**Chapter 465**
**Children of the Watch**
**Dagon POV**
**Mos Pelgo Saloon, Tatooine**
The tension in the cantina was thick enough to cut with a vibroblade. Four Mandalorians stood at the entrance, their armor a mix of colors — forest green, deep crimson, gunmetal gray, and midnight blue. None of them wore the signature blue of Death Watch. These were different. More traditional. More… devout.
*Hmm. Not blue like Death Watch,* I thought, studying their armor. *Each has a different color. Must be the Children of the Watch. I should verify it.*
I kept my stance relaxed but ready, my black-armored right arm resting casually on the table while my left hand hovered near my lightsaber.
"When one chooses to walk the Way of the Mandalore," I said calmly, quoting the ancient Creed, "you are both hunter and prey. How can one be a coward if one chooses this way of life?"
The four Mandalorians froze. Then, in perfect unison, they recited the next line of the Creed:
"This is the Way."
A ripple of recognition passed through them. Weapons lowered slightly, but they remained wary.
I sent a quick message through the Force bond to the girls standing behind me: *Play along.*
"I am Dagon Marek," I continued, stepping forward, "of the Jedi Order. I slew Durge — the one who killed your last true Mandalore over three hundred years ago. And I hold in my hand the Sword of Mandalore, the Ultimate, taken from his ship on Malachor V."
I slowly drew the ancient beskar sword, its blade catching the dim cantina light with a deadly gleam. The Mandalorians' posture changed instantly. Several took involuntary steps forward, eyes locked on the weapon.
The leader — the one in forest green armor — spoke, voice modulated but filled with awe. "How do you know the words of the Way of Mandalore, Jedi?"
"Long story," I replied. "But I also carry beskar from fallen Mandalorian warriors. I intend to return it to your people."
The leader lowered his blaster rifle completely. "Why are you here?"
"We have come for the Krayt Dragon," I said. "We need to safely move it far away from inhabited areas. It will serve a greater purpose elsewhere."
A heavy silence fell over the cantina. The Weequay bartender, Taanti, looked like he wanted to disappear behind his counter.
The green-armored Mandalorian finally spoke again. "You speak the Creed. You carry the Sword. You offer beskar. But words are wind. Prove it."
I nodded. "Ethan," I commed quietly. "Bring down three crates of beskar from the shuttle. Include the melted remnants of Durge's armor and the pieces from the Nightbrother warriors I killed on Jabiim."
"On my way, General."
While we waited, I studied the Mandalorians. They were clearly Children of the Watch — a sect that still followed the old ways strictly, living as nomadic warriors rather than adopting the pacifist New Mandalorian ways under Duchess Satine Kryze.
Shin Wren stepped up beside me, her purple armor gleaming. "We come in peace… mostly. But we will not be threatened."
The Mandalorians regarded her with new interest, noting the Mandalorian-style sword at her hip.
A few minutes later, Ethan and a squad of Darkstar clones entered, carrying three heavy crates. They set them down and opened them.
Inside lay polished beskar plates, gauntlets, helmets, and chest pieces — all recovered from fallen warriors. One crate contained the twisted, melted remnants of Durge's infamous armor. Another held pieces from the Nightbrothers I had slain.
The green-armored leader knelt, reverently touching one of the chest plates. "This… this belonged to my ancestors from the time of the neo crusaders 5,000 years ago."
I nodded. "Then it should return to your clan."
The four Mandalorians rose, their posture now one of respect rather than hostility.
The leader rhe bigger one asked if we reallysre mandalorians I replied as we have not bathed in the living waters we are not they never removed their helmets. "I am Paz Vizsla. These are my brothers. You have proven your words, Dagon Marek. But you must understand our situation on Mandalore."
I leaned against the bar. "Satine Kryze's pacifist rule has weakened the old ways. A splinter group of dishonorable Mandalorians known as Death Watch has risen in secret."
Paz Vizsla's head lifted. "Yes. They hide in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. They call themselves true Mandalorians, but they are terrorists who care only for power."
I crossed my arms. "If you wish to join me, you must help protect your planet — and the galaxy beyond it."
Paz studied me for a long moment. "This is the Way."
The other three Mandalorians echoed him. "This is the Way."
**Scene 2**
We moved the conversation outside, into the harsh twin suns of Tatooine. The girls formed a protective circle around me while I spoke with Paz and his warriors.
"You want to join my forces?" I asked directly.
Paz nodded. "We have heard stories of the Black Dragon — the Jedi who fights like a Mandalorian. Who slays monsters and returns honor to the fallen. If you will help restore the true way to Mandalore… we will follow you."
I glanced at Shin. She gave me a subtle nod.
"Very well," I said. "You and your people will be given a place among my legions. But understand this — I do not tolerate terrorism or needless slaughter. We fight for the galaxy's survival, not for conquest."
Paz slammed a fist against his chest plate. "This is the Way."
The other Mandalorians repeated the phrase with fervor.
As we prepared to head deeper into the desert to locate the Krayt Dragon, I felt a strange sense of destiny settling over me. Ancient Mandalorian warriors, a legendary dragon, and a mission to save an entire planet from devastation.
The girls moved closer as we walked. Ahsoka bumped my shoulder playfully. "You're collecting quite the army, Master."
Flare smiled. "First clones, then Mandalorians. What's next?"
I chuckled. "Whatever the galaxy throws at us."
Shin slipped her hand into mine. "And we'll face it together."
Behind us, Paz Vizsla and his warriors followed in disciplined formation, their colorful armor standing out against the endless sand.
The hunt for the Krayt Dragon had just become a much more interesting endeavor.