Chapter 340: Modded Lightsaber, Style Achieved! The Jedi Returns!
At this moment, Imperial stormtroopers were still patrolling the streets, their loudspeakers blaring propaganda to warn passersby.
> [The Galactic Empire is currently engaged in a campaign against the terrorist insurgents led by Saw Gerrera. Thanks to the tireless efforts of the Imperial forces, the lives and property of our citizens remain safe and secure.]
> [Please continue to support our law enforcement efforts and help maintain peace and order across the galaxy!]
The "Gerrera" mentioned in the broadcast referred to Saw Gerrera, the rebel leader from the planet Onderon. He had fought in the Clone Wars before the founding of the Empire, resisting the invasion of the Separatist Alliance.
That so-called Separatist Alliance was a faction dominated by the Trade Federation—rich corporate Enterprise that formed armies primarily composed of battle droids.
Under Palpatine's manipulation, the Trade Federation launched an assault on the Old Republic. Seizing the opportunity, Palpatine emerged victorious, taking control of the Republic's political legacy at minimal cost.
Thus, the new Galactic Empire was officially born at the end of the Clone Wars.
However, even after the Empire had been established, Gerrera remained a relentless thorn in its side, tirelessly fighting against Imperial rule.
Throughout the galaxy, Saw Gerrera acted as a silent benefactor to many rebel factions, providing them with money, weapons, and manpower—all in the hopes of founding a new Republic through independent uprising.
Hearing the relentless patrols outside, Chirrut expressed his distaste without hiding it:
"If it weren't for them inciting war in the first place, there wouldn't be any rebellion, let alone so-called terrorist uprisings."
"They know damn well who's really endangering peace and order across the galaxy—those serving their own interests at the cost of everyone else."
Paul didn't respond. In the end, all of this was just a matter of victors and vanquished. Justice and order were merely words used by the winners—power and reputation always went to the strongest.
"Forget it, let's get back to the real reason we're here."
Chirrut sighed and waved his hand, leading Paul and Chani deep into the ruins of the Kyber Temple. The three of them soon arrived at a remote corner of the sanctuary.
Chirrut then thrust his staff into a patch of damp earth and began digging with practiced hands, clearly searching for something buried long ago.
"A few years back, Imperial forces looted every Kyber crystal from this temple. As guardians, we were powerless to stop them."
"But not everything was lost."
With that, Chirrut finally unearthed an object resembling a flashlight. After brushing off the dirt, he solemnly handed it to Paul.
"I doubt any Jedi would ever forget what this is—even those who've left that identity behind."
Staring at the lightsaber in his hands, Paul instantly recalled an image he'd seen in the headquarters' archives—it was a perfect match.
"Of course. I fought alongside one of these for many years. Even after parting ways with it, I never truly let go."
Paul hadn't expected to gain Chirrut's trust so quickly—much less walk away with a legendary weapon from this blind monk.
Then again, perhaps Chirrut had remained in Jedha City for this very moment: to pass the blade on to a Jedi he could believe in.
"Go ahead—try it out!"
Chirrut invited Paul with eager anticipation. If the light of the Jedi could once again shine in Jedha, perhaps the disillusioned Force believers might rise again to resist the Empire's tyranny.
But Paul shook his head and declined. "Not yet. Wielding a lightsaber would mean openly defying the Empire."
"Their enforcers won't let any Jedi live."
That was what he said, but the real reason was something else—Paul was afraid he wouldn't be able to activate it at all.
After all, he wasn't a Jedi. He'd never received formal Force training. If he failed to ignite the blade in front of others, it'd be nothing short of humiliating.
"I see…"
Chirrut nodded in understanding. Not every Jedi was ready to die for their beliefs.
The ones who held steadfast to justice and honor had long been hunted down and killed. Those who remained—if they hadn't turned traitor—were most likely still lost and uncertain.
"In that case, keep it with you for now. When you're ready—truly ready—you can decide whether to use it to uphold the Jedi's legacy."
He nodded with quiet confidence. All he needed was time. As long as the Jedi still lived, he believed they could eventually be swayed to fight alongside the rebellion.
"But if you're Force-sensitive, why not wield the saber yourself?"
Paul asked curiously.
As a swordmaster of the Megacorp, Paul could tell Chirrut was no ordinary man.
The guy looked like "Master Ip Man" himself—definitely someone who could take on ten men at once.
Chirrut chuckled and shook his head. "I'm just Force-sensitive—I can feel its presence, but I can't command it."
"Besides, if the Empire knew I could use a lightsaber, they would've arrested me long ago. There'd be no way for me to stay here, waiting for the Jedi to return."
Hearing this, Paul glanced at the core of Chirrut's staff—there was a piece that looked suspiciously like a lightsaber's power module. He nodded thoughtfully.
Maybe Chirrut wasn't a Jedi yet. But one day, who knows? He might awaken the Force and truly become a wielder of the blade.
Just then, chaos erupted in the city—explosions rocked the air, followed by bursts of blaster fire.
A new clash had broken out.
"This isn't good—I have to go!"
Chirrut seemed to realize something and rushed out, leaving Paul behind.
But Paul didn't follow him immediately. Taking advantage of the moment alone, he activated his internal communicator and summoned a Scorpion-Tail AI drone.
Moments later, a drone shimmered into visibility—its optical camouflage deactivated—hovering silently before him.
Ever since Megacorp had unified the Halo and Transformers universes, their AI drone tech had undergone a massive upgrade.
Built with transforming metal, these drones could shift into virtually any form on command. Their hard-light camouflage made them practically invisible.
This particular model was Paul's favorite recon unit. Though unarmed, it was outfitted with the Red Queen AI—perfect for data hacking and analysis.
It had followed Paul on this mission in complete stealth, only revealing itself now at his command.
"Upload the analysis data to headquarters. Quickly."
Paul handed the lightsaber to the drone, carefully watching his surroundings for any potential spies.
The drone accepted the saber and began scanning it with advanced analytical tools, its systems compiling data and uploading it to HQ.
> [Analysis at 80%. Uploading data now.]
Paul was desperate to activate the lightsaber—by any means necessary.
If he could wield it publicly, he could establish his identity as a Jedi.
He couldn't hide forever—eventually, the truth would come out.
He only knew that his spice-enhanced neural abilities allowed him to flawlessly predict opponents' movements in battle—but whether that counted as true Force-sensitivity, or whether it could interface with the Kyber crystal, remained uncertain.
If it could, that would be ideal—it would save Paul a lot of trouble.
If not… he'd have to rip the Kyber crystal out and replace it with an energy core from the Halo universe.
That way, he could force the weapon into functioning like a lightsaber—at least in appearance. A little tweaking of the blade's shape and color would make the imitation nearly indistinguishable.
Unless they were an experienced Jedi, most people couldn't tell the difference between a real lightsaber and a fake one.
Back at HQ, once the data was received, the research division immediately began analyzing it. But with time short, they couldn't confirm if Paul's neural powers could activate the crystal.
So instead, using faster-than-light communications, they issued remote instructions to the drone for an immediate on-site modification.
Soon, the drone removed the Kyber crystal and replaced it with its own internal power core.
A new drone would arrive later to continue assisting Paul's mission and return the original Kyber crystal to the research lab.
With the modified lightsaber in hand, Paul and Chani rushed outside to assess the situation.
The city's narrow streets had already descended into chaos. Stormtroopers and rebel fighters were locked in fierce combat.
Using the terrain and support from local residents, the rebels initially gained the upper hand—ambushing stormtroopers from all sides with hit-and-run tactics.
But it didn't take long for the Empire to retaliate. Leveraging their superior gear, tanks fired laser cannons and demolished entire blocks where rebels had taken shelter.
Exploding walls and flying debris mixed with blood and dust. Rebel casualties began to soar.
Worse still, Imperial reinforcements were arriving nonstop, flooding into the warzone.
With the addition of massive 20-meter tall AT-ST walkers providing heavy firepower, the tide of battle began to turn.
The rebels, in contrast, were poorly armed. Most were just armed civilians—lacking both armor and training.
A single blaster shot could reduce them to a pile of meat. And their outdated weapons stood little chance.
Many carried decade-old blaster rifles. Their only anti-tank options were heat grenades—primitive and insufficient against the Empire's might.
Neither of the rebels' weapons could even scratch the Empire's tank armor. The only way to stop them was through sheer sacrifice—charging forward and throwing grenades directly beneath the treads.
Only then did they have a slim chance of destroying one of the Empire's tanks.
But attacks like that were suicidal at best. Out of ten who tried, maybe one would succeed.
In most cases, the rebels didn't even have a chance to get close to the tanks.
The disparity in equipment was simply too great. Once the engagement dragged on, the advantage inevitably shifted toward the Imperial forces.
This particular rebel faction—known for their brash and reckless tactics—wasn't part of the official Rebel Alliance. They were under the command of Saw Gerrera, the very same radical the Empire had denounced in its broadcasts.
Gerrera was the archetypal brute-force rebel leader. He cared little for civilian casualties, and the destruction his forces caused often rivaled that of the Empire's own troops.
To many, Gerrera's faction was a terrorist organization—and the Galactic Empire had marked them for complete elimination.
As for the Rebel Alliance, although they shared a common enemy with Gerrera's rebels, they weren't formally aligned. At most, the two sides cooperated when convenient, but operated in fundamentally different frameworks.
The Alliance often found itself helpless in the face of Gerrera's brutal methods.
Now, with the city plunged into battle, the Alliance and Gerrera's rebels fought their own separate wars against the Empire, coordinating loosely when it suited their goals.
And amid the chaos, two figures from the Rebel Alliance were already entangled in the mess: Captain Cassian Andor and Jyn Erso—the daughter of Death Star architect Galen Erso.
Their position had been compromised while trying to rescue a young girl caught in the crossfire. In the process, they were forced to kill a rebel fighter and had since been hounded relentlessly by both rebels and stormtroopers alike.
Cornered by a squad of stormtroopers, they were running out of options.
Chirrut had dashed into the chaos precisely to find and help them.
Meanwhile, Paul and Chani watched from the shadows, biding their time before deciding to intervene.
If Paul wanted to integrate himself into the Rebel Alliance, then timing was key. He had to wait until the moment they truly needed him—only then could he make an impression.
At that moment, Chirrut strode toward the squad surrounding Cassian and Jyn, tapping his staff as he walked, chanting softly like a monk:
> "The Force is with me, and I am one with the Force."
"I shall not fear, for the Force guides my path."
The stormtroopers were momentarily perplexed by the sudden appearance of this blind, murmuring monk. They raised their weapons cautiously.
"Hey! Stop right there or we'll open fire!"
People tend to underestimate the weak. To the stormtroopers, Chirrut was no threat—a blind man with a stick. They didn't see the danger.
But when he didn't stop, they began to raise their blasters in earnest.
"I said stop or I'll shoot!" barked the squad leader.
He didn't care if Chirrut was blind, deaf, or senile. Anyone interfering would be put down.
As the trooper pulled the trigger, Chirrut moved—fast, fluid, and impossibly precise, as if dodging bullets on instinct.
He darted forward, evading the blaster bolts with uncanny agility, and in the next instant, disarmed the squad leader with a swift strike of his staff before grabbing him as a human shield.
The others snapped to and opened fire—but it was too late.
Using the squad leader's body and white armor as cover, Chirrut withstood the volley. While not indestructible, the armor could absorb enough hits to keep Chirrut safe.
His movements were nothing like a blind man's. He was more like a larger-than-life Ip Man, his fists fast and brutal, striking down troopers one after another.
In the tight quarters, afraid of friendly fire, the troopers hesitated—just long enough for Chirrut to overwhelm them.
With one final spinning kick, he knocked out the last of the stormtroopers and reached Cassian and Jyn.
He'd tracked Jyn using the high-purity Kyber crystal in her necklace. Its quality marked her as someone of significance—and that was why Chirrut had risked exposing himself to rescue her.
He wanted to know where the necklace had come from. But with the battle still raging, there was no time to ask questions.
Even as Chirrut took down the last squad, a fresh wave of stormtroopers arrived.
"Damn. Time to run!" Chirrut muttered.
He knew he'd been lucky. The element of surprise and his unassuming appearance had let him close in.
But these new troops wouldn't make the same mistake.
Once they opened fire, no amount of martial arts would save him.
Beside him, Baze Malbus—his towering partner and bodyguard—readied his heavy repeater blaster, prepared to hold the line.
But then—
A blur flashed across the battlefield. Someone had arrived.
It was Paul Atreides.
To make this "heroic entrance" truly unforgettable, Chani stayed hidden in sniper support while Paul stepped into the spotlight.
With a dramatic gesture, Paul extended his hand—and from the shadows, the Scorpion-Tail AI drone hurled the modified lightsaber toward him.
To onlookers, it looked like Paul had summoned it through the Force, a textbook Jedi maneuver.
He caught the hilt mid-air, flicked it around, and pressed the activation switch. A blade of radiant blue light erupted with a hiss.
The entire performance was flawless.
Even the stormtroopers froze for a moment—how was this possible?
They'd spent years rooting out every last Jedi. None were supposed to remain—especially not here.
If the Rebels now had a Jedi, things were about to get a lot more complicated.
"Forget him! Open fire!" barked the commander.
He didn't care who this guy was. Even Jedi could bleed.
Blaster bolts erupted in every direction, but Paul wasn't fazed.
With his precognitive combat sense, he dodged the blasts with ease. Even when the shots came too fast, he deflected them with his lightsaber—cutting through them in arcs of sizzling energy.
To the stormtroopers, Paul looked like a ghost—gliding through gunfire like it wasn't even there.
> Was this… a Jedi Master?!
Too late, they realized they'd picked the wrong fight.
Paul dove into their ranks, his saber slicing through armor, flesh, and bone in a dazzling flurry of light and motion.
The hard-light energy blade was nearly indistinguishable from a real lightsaber.
His blinding speed and precise footwork masked any small discrepancies between a real Kyber-powered blade and his modified version.
No one had time to scrutinize the weapon itself.
They only saw a lightsaber cleaving through stormtroopers like paper.
To the crowd, he wasn't just a Jedi—he was a Jedi Master.
Watching from the side, Chirrut was now utterly convinced. Force-powered weapon summons, a glowing saber, flawless combat technique—there could be no doubt.
> "So, you've chosen to reclaim the saber you once laid down," Chirrut said, visibly moved.
To the Rebels, recruiting a Jedi Master would be a monumental morale boost—one capable of turning the tide against the Empire.
"I'll handle things here," Paul said calmly, radiating the quiet confidence of a true Jedi.
His performance was pitch-perfect. Every word, every movement, every stance—all masterfully choreographed.
He wasn't just playing the role.
He was the Jedi now.
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