**Chapter 620**
**Scene 1**
**Concordia – Mandalorian Moon**
**Satine Kryze POV**
Satine Kryze stood in the dimly lit observation room overlooking the secure holding cells on Concordia. The captured bomber sat motionless behind the transparisteel barrier, his armor stripped and his face hidden behind a blank expression. He had spoken only in the old Concordian dialect — a language few outside the traditionalist clans still used fluently. Every attempt to question him had met with stony silence or defiant glares.
She had refused Dagon's request — the Temple Guard's request — to probe the man's mind with the Force. The very idea made her skin crawl. Mind invasion felt too close to the violence she had spent her life fighting against. She believed in justice through law, through truth, through civilized means. Not through Jedi sorcery that could twist a man's thoughts.
Prime Minister Almec stood beside her, his face etched with concern. "Duchess, we must get answers. If Death Watch is truly organizing on Concordia…"
"I know," Satine replied quietly, her voice tight. "But I will not allow the Jedi to violate a prisoner's mind, no matter how dangerous he may be. We will find the truth our way — through proper investigation."
Almec sighed but nodded. "As you wish. However, Governor Pre Vizsla has extended an invitation for dinner this evening at his residence. He insists it would be a good opportunity to discuss security matters on the moon."
Satine's lips pressed into a thin line. Pre Vizsla — the very same man whose clan had long been rumored to harbor traditionalist sympathies. Coincidence? Or something more? She needed proof before making accusations.
"Very well," she said at last. "We will attend. But keep the guard tight. I do not trust the situation."
Later that evening, as they arrived at Vizsla's residence, Satine couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in her chest. The dinner was polite, almost too polite. Vizsla spoke smoothly about Mandalorian progress and the need for unity. Yet his eyes… there was something cold and calculating behind them.
She noticed the Temple Guard — Dagon — quietly slip away during the meal. Satine's heart skipped a beat, but she said nothing. Perhaps he was doing what she could not.
**Scene 2**
**Concordia – Death Watch Stronghold**
**Dagon POV**
The mining facility on Concordia looked ordinary enough from the outside — heavy machinery, cargo lifts, and workers moving crates of ore. But the Force told a different story. This was no ordinary mine. It was a Death Watch stronghold.
I moved silently through the shadows, the Wrath Shield shifting into its Hunter Mode. Dark red armor with a light red visor partially revealing my face materialized around me. Silver V-shaped lines ran down my chest and thighs. Black shoulder pads, breastplate, and thigh pads completed the look, along with grey spikes and dark grey boots. The suit rendered me nearly invisible to both eyes and most sensors.
A lone Death Watch soldier stepped around a corner. I moved like a ghost, knocking him out with a precise strike to the neck before he could react. I dragged his body into a side alcove and quickly donned his armor over my own. The fit was decent — Mandalorian armor was designed for adaptability.
*Now then,* I thought, *let's see if I can find the Children of the Watch among them. Maybe I can get them to plead my case about the fair fight.*
I activated the special vision mode the Wrath Shield provided — a mix of thermal, electromagnetic, and Force-enhanced sight. It highlighted hidden passages and life signs. I followed a trail of concealed energy signatures deeper into the facility until I reached a secured door.
I slipped inside quietly.
Rook Kast stood in the center of the room, examining a tactical display. She turned sharply as I entered.
"You — soldier. What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice sharp and authoritative.
"Uh… Lord Vizsla asked me to request you speak with him," I lied smoothly, keeping my helmet on. "A communication is ready."
"Very well. Thank you," Rook replied, turning to leave.
"This is the way," I said quietly.
Rook froze. In a blur of motion, she grabbed my throat — only for me to counter, pinning her against the wall and closing the door behind us with the Force. She struggled, but my grip was iron.
"Look — wait a minute. You are a Child of the Watch, but you don't wear your helmet," I said, lowering my voice.
"How do you know that? Who are you?" Rook demanded, eyes wide with suspicion.
I released her and removed my stolen helmet, revealing my face.
"Name's Dagon Marek. I need a little help," I said calmly.
Rook Kast stared at me, her expression shifting from shock to wary recognition. The legendary Jedi who had been to Malachor V, who rode a leviathan Krayt dragon, who armed his troops with ancient beskar — standing right in front of her.
She slowly lowered her hands. "You… have a lot of nerve coming here alone, Jedi."
"I'm not here to fight you," I replied. "I'm here to offer the Children of the Watch a chance to restore what was lost — without Satine's pacifism or Vizsla's madness destroying everything in between."
Rook studied me for a long moment, then gave a single, cautious nod.
"Talk fast, Marek. Vizsla's men are everywhere."