**Chapter 618**
**Scene 1**
**Mandalore – Sundari, Peace Park**
**Dagon POV**
The Peace Park in Sundari was a carefully cultivated oasis of calm amid the domed city. Manicured lawns, flowering shrubs imported from distant worlds, and elegant statues commemorating Mandalorian history stretched out before us. The artificial sunlight filtering through the massive dome gave everything a soft, almost ethereal glow. It was beautiful — in a controlled, sanitized way that felt deliberately distant from the warrior heritage of old Mandalore.
Duchess Satine Kryze walked beside us, her white and blue gown flowing gracefully with each step. She had insisted on this walk through the park after accepting the beskar gifts, perhaps hoping the peaceful setting would soften whatever difficult conversation lay ahead.
"Your peaceful ways have paid off," Yoda said, his voice gentle as he looked around. "Mandalore has prospered since the last time I was here."
Satine smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Not everyone on Mandalore believes that our commitment to peace is a sign of progress. There is a group that calls itself Death Watch. I imagine these are the renegades you're looking for. They idolize violence and the warrior ways of the past. There are those among us — certain officials — who are working to root out these criminals. It has been an ongoing investigation."
"How widespread is this Death Watch movement?" I asked, keeping my voice modulated and neutral through the Temple Guard mask.
"It's hardly a movement," Satine replied quickly. "It's a small group of hooligans who choose to vandalize public places. Nothing more. We shall soon have them in custody. We have tracked them down to our moon, Concordia."
A sudden itch crawled up my spine — a sharp disturbance in the Force. My eyes narrowed behind the mask. I sensed it immediately: danger, malice, and the cold intent of a bomb.
Force lightning shot out from my hand in a tight, controlled sphere, wrapping around an expanding explosive device planted near a memorial shrine. The bomb had been seconds from detonating. I lifted it into the air with the Force, containing the blast within the lightning cage, then hurled it high into the sky. A muffled explosion echoed far above, harmless except for a temporary ringing in our ears.
"Master Yoda — there's the attacker!" I pointed sharply.
Yoda reacted instantly, his small hand extending as he caught the fleeing Mandalorian saboteur in a powerful Force grip before the man could reach for a suicide pill. The attacker struggled futilely in mid-air, his armor clanking as Yoda pulled him closer.
Satine's eyes widened in shock. "What is the meaning of this?"
I stepped forward, my voice low but firm. "A demonstration, Duchess. Death Watch is bolder than you believe. And they are not alone."
The captured Mandalorian glared at us with pure hatred, but Yoda's grip held firm. The park around us had gone deathly quiet, civilians and guards staring in stunned disbelief at the scene unfolding before them.
**Scene 2**
**Concordia – Death Watch Base**
**Gar Saxon POV**
The underground command center on Concordia was dimly lit, the walls reinforced with scavenged beskar plating. Gar Saxon stood near the back of the room, arms crossed, watching as his leader, Pre Vizsla, raged at the blue holographic figure of Count Dooku.
"Yoda himself!" Vizsla snarled, pacing back and forth like a caged beast. "Not just any Jedi — the Grand Master of their Order! How did the Republic dare send him here? This is an insult to everything we stand for!"
Dooku's hologram remained calm, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of irritation. "Keep a low profile, Vizsla. Do not draw unnecessary attention. The Republic must be the ones to strike first if we are to maintain our narrative."
Vizsla slammed a fist on the table. "Send someone! Or begin the attack on Mandalore now! We have the numbers. We have the will!"
Dooku shook his head. "Not yet. Patience. The peace conference is approaching. Let the Senate and the Jedi bleed themselves dry first. Then we strike."
The hologram flickered out. Vizsla continued pacing, summoning the Nite Owls for an emergency briefing. Gar Saxon quietly slipped away from the main group, his mind racing.
Clan Saxon, along with several other proud clans, had aligned with Death Watch because they could no longer stomach what Satine and her New Mandalorians had done. They had stripped away everything that made Mandalorians strong — their warrior culture, their honor in battle, their legacy. Gar's family had controlled MandalMotors for generations. Once Death Watch took control, they would repurpose those factories to build a true Mandalorian fleet once more.
But rumors had been spreading like wildfire across the clans. A Jedi — one who had been to the cursed world of Malachor V — had started arming his troops with beskar armor and ships built with ancient Mandalorian designs. Dagon Marek. The recordings showed him taming and riding a leviathan Krayt dragon on Atraken. What did this mean for the future of Mandalore? Was this Jedi an enemy… or a sign of something greater?
Gar Saxon clenched his fists. Whatever came next, he would be ready. For the old ways. For the true Mandalorians.
**End chapter.**
(Word count: 1,512)