(1500 words Due to me Being Exhausted )
Bo-Katan muttered something under her breath and slumped back in her chair.
Pre Vizsla just smirked silently.
Obi-Wan, who had remained quiet until now, finally speak . "I'm afraid you won't get it, Satine,"
Pre Vizsla, sensing the shift in atmosphere and eager to appear cooperative before Satine and Bo-Katan, took a half-step forward. "I respect that you kept the Duchess safe from my father's wrath," he said, tone rehearsed but polite. "But this isn't the time for mocking, especially not in front of the Duchess… and especially not when you two seem pretty close."
Obi-Wan exhaled softly, then looked directly at them all. "Let me rephrase," he said. "The Armored Man… he vanished from Sundari. No ship. No sound. Not even his drones carried him. There is absolutely no trace of him."
Pre Vizsla's hand twitched near his holster. His face twisted in annoyance. "If you've been drugged by your so-called 'Force' visions, Jedi, I suggest you step outside the room before spouting more nonsense."
Obi-Wan didn't budge. Instead, he calmly turned his head. "If you don't believe me, ask Master Yoda." His gaze flicked toward the far side of the chamber. "Since he told me just now… isn't that right?"
Satine frowned. "Obi, this is not the time for your antics—"
But she froze mid-sentence, along with the rest of the chamber, as something shifted. A faint ripple passed through the air, like reality peeling back slightly. And then—like a fog lifting from their minds—two cloaked figures were revealed, standing silently by the entrance of the council chamber.
Master Yoda stood with his cane, serene and ancient, his gaze unfazed. Beside him, tall and composed, was Qui-Gon Jinn.
"Hehmhmhmhmhm…" Yoda chuckled lightly. "You seem better at detecting me now, Obi-Wan."
Qui-Gon smiled, placing a hand on his former Padawan's shoulder. "I'm proud of you."
Pre Vizsla instinctively reached for his blaster, hand brushing the grip—but stopped short as he recognized the two figures clearly. Slowly, with visible restraint, he holstered the weapon and forced his voice to remain neutral. "Jedi Grandmaster… or not, please don't sneak up on the Duchess like that again. It's bad manners ."
Yoda just gave a small hum of amusement.
Satine pressed her fingers to her temple and sighed.
Satine lowered her hand from her temple, her voice sharper now. "Is there anything else I need to know about this Armored Man, Masters? Aside from his drones and his absolutely insane tech?"
Bo-Katan crossed her arms with a smug shrug. "Sister, you seem stressed. I mean… come on. He is too cool."
Satine gave her a flat look.
Qui-Gon, ever patient, gave a thoughtful nod. "Actually… the only ones who may know something more—just one extra piece—are Jaster and Jango. They were the ones he saved from Death Watch, no offense, Pre Vizsla," he added with a glance.
Pre Vizsla, standing tall, gave a small nod. "Noted. I am the losing party here. I know where I stand. But I'm still a man of my word." He turned, locking eyes with Jaster. "But Jaster… my Death Watch survivors said something bizarre . That we should never try to remove his armor." He stepped closer, voice lowering. "What kind of nonsense is that?"
He turned slightly toward Jango now. "Come on. I deserve the truth. My father died in that fight. In honor, as you all say. At least be honest with me." His voice didn't tremble, but there was an edge of bitterness to it.
Jaster glanced toward Jango again, silently asking permission. Jango gave the faintest nod this time—reluctant, but allowing it.
Jaster turned to Pre Vizsla. "Pre… what we faced wasn't something words can describe properly. Your father fought with everything he had. He defended his men with pride. But the Armored Man…"
Jango cut in, his tone dead serious. "It was one-sided. Completely."
Pre Vizsla's eyes narrowed.
Jango continued. "Your father—Tor Vizsla—fought with honor. No doubt. But the Armored Man… without his armor?"
He exhaled, eyes distant.
"He's a beast. No—he's something worse than a beast. He only put his armor back on after rescuing us. That's when he negotiated for twenty percent of the beskar from Satine. And before your sister here,"
he gestured toward Bo-Katan with a sideways glance, "decided to test him with her usual attitude—he threatened to crush a black kyber crystal. You know what came next? Thirty percent."
Bo-Katan threw her hands up. "Stop mentioning that, damn it, Jaster! It's already embarrassing enough."
Pre Vizsla furrowed his brow. "Without his armor, he shouldn't be stronger. That doesn't make sense. I thought he relied on that tech."
Jaster shook his head slowly. "That's where you're wrong, Pre Vizsla… son of Tor Vizsla. Your father made that same mistake. He challenged him. Told him to fight without tech. And then…"
Jaster's voice quieted. His next words were heavy. "That's when the nightmare started."
The air in the room grew still.
Jango's tone dropped further, grim and flat. "He removed his armor . And what we saw wasn't human. A towering figure… black aura swirling like smoke. A dark horse appeared from the shadows—gigantic, spectral. He mounted it like a warlord from myth."
He looked Pre Vizsla dead in the eyes.
"He was three to five times the size of your father. Maybe more. He carried a black sword. And when he swung it once…"
Jango paused, voice steady but haunted. "He cleaved through the very landscape of Korda Six. Like it was made of paper."
Qui-Gon folded his arms as he stepped forward, speaking calmly. "And Korda Six has a new map now. Valleys that didn't exist before. Entire mountain ranges sliced apart—effortlessly."
Jaster nodded. "Yeah, like that. It wasn't just a battlefield. It became a scar." He then turned to the Jedi. "But before we move further, Master Jedi… do you mind that the Darksaber has returned to Mandalorian hands? I know it's still a lightsaber in design."
Master Yoda's gaze drifted toward Pre Vizsla, then to the unignited hilt at his side. "Pre Vizsla," he said, voice even, "the Darksaber you wield… hmmm. May it lead you down a path not of war, but of peace. That is my hope." His eyes narrowed slightly. "The red color the Armored Man left within… a symbol of the Sith, it is. But also, perhaps… a lesson. A reminder. Even in blood, something new may rise. Let it guide Mandalore to prosperity, not ruin."
Pre Vizsla slowly bowed his head. "Thank you, Master Jedi. I'll take that to heart."
Yoda turned back to Jaster. "Now… a question. Sith, erased long ago, their presence… gone, it was said. But this Armored Man—does he bear corruption? A Sith's aura, perhaps? Yellow or orange eyes… dark cravings?"
Jango shook his head, slowly but firmly. "No… his eyes are nothing like a Sith's. They're either deep purple… or black as the void. Like death itself. And when he let go of his armor—when we saw his true form—we didn't feel corruption. We felt death. Pure, raw death."
Jaster added in a low, respectful voice. "He has a true name. A name tied to that form. But we won't speak it. Not here. Not ever."
He exchanged a glance with Jango.
"It was the deal," Jaster continued. "Every survivor from the Korda Six operation swore it. We don't speak his true name—not even to the Jedi. It's not fear. It's respect… and caution."
Yoda gave a slight nod, the tips of his ears drooping just enough to show the weight of his thoughts. "Hmm… I will not intrude on private vows. That alone tells much. But it confirms what I suspected." He looked up slowly, eyes narrowing. "He is not from this galaxy. Nor from the Outer Rim. And… he does not wield the Force as we know it."
He turned his gaze to Satine. "If the Armored Man returns to Sundari… stall him, you must. Before he vanishes again." A quiet seriousness laced his voice. "Speak with him, I must. While there is still time."
Satine placed her hand over her chest, bowing her head slightly. "I'll do my best, Master Yoda. No promises, but I'll try to keep him still long enough for a conversation."
Bo-Katan leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "Should I just order someone to shoot one of his mining drones to get his attention? Might drag him back here."
Everyone in the room immediately turned to look at her. Flat. Silent. Deadpan stares.
Jango slowly raised a brow. Pre Vizsla's mouth parted slightly. Jaster's jaw clenched like he had déjà vu from a nightmare. Even Yoda blinked, once.
The mood shifted instantly.
That kind of stare that didn't need words. Just one collective thought radiating off all of them:
Are you seriously trying to get Sundari turned into another Korda Six map?
Bo-Katan's smirk faltered. "…Too much?"
Satine sighed deeply and reached across to tug Bo-Katan's sleeve. "My Bo is tired. Come on, Bo. Let's get some air."
Bo-Katan groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "Stars above—I told you, stop calling me Bo. My name is Bo-Katan. That's a childhood nickname, Satine."
Satine gave her a teasing smile, gently patting her shoulder. "Still suits you. Especially when you're about to accidentally cause a planetary catastrophe."