The two entered the opulent governmental building, its corridors lined with traditional Mandalorian artwork and historical displays that spoke to the moon's rich cultural heritage. Satine led Matt down the main hallway toward the dining chamber where Pre Vizsla had arranged to receive them for their evening meal. Upon entering the elegantly appointed room, they found Vizsla seated at a polished table, focused intently on a datapad as his fingers moved across its surface.
"Please forgive me, Duchess," Vizsla said, looking up with an apologetic smile. "I'm composing a formal letter of condolence to the family of the deceased operative and making arrangements for them to retrieve his body for proper burial according to our customs."
"Of course, Governor. That's very thoughtful and appropriate," Satine replied with genuine appreciation. "Master Kenobi should be joining us shortly—he mentioned needing some time for personal reflection."
"He said he required meditation to center himself after today's events," Matt added, playing his assigned role in maintaining their cover story.
"Ah yes, the ancient Jedi tradition of meditative contemplation," Vizsla chuckled with what seemed like genuine amusement. "I've known several individuals who adopted this practice during my younger years. I actually attempted it myself at one point, though unfortunately I abandoned the discipline due to the demanding responsibilities of colonial governance."
"Perhaps you should consider returning to it," Matt suggested conversationally. "I've learned to incorporate brief meditative moments throughout my day when I need them most. It helps manage stress remarkably well, especially in high-pressure situations."
"Oh? May I ask what profession requires such stress management techniques, Mr. Murdock?"
"I practice law—specifically criminal defense and civil rights litigation."
Vizsla burst into hearty laughter at this revelation. "You have indeed chosen an extraordinarily stressful career path, Mr. Murdock. I certainly don't envy the psychological burdens you must carry in that profession."
Matt smiled pleasantly in response, but as his enhanced mind processed the conversation, he began detecting subtle inconsistencies in Governor Vizsla's behavior patterns. Something felt distinctly wrong about the man's responses, though he couldn't yet pinpoint exactly what was triggering his instincts.
He was determined to discover what Vizsla was hiding.
Meanwhile, at the mining facility, Master Kenobi faced his own investigation...
Arriving at one of the supposedly abandoned mining complexes, Obi-Wan cautiously made his way inside the main entrance. Moving through what should have been dark, empty tunnels, he soon encountered unexpected illumination deeper within the facility. He carefully scanned the area and quickly realized that this place was far from abandoned—the presence of operational lighting throughout the mine shafts clearly indicated ongoing activity.
Investigating further, he examined a nearby equipment storage area and discovered it was actively being used for weapons manufacturing. Freshly forged Mandalorian armor and weaponry were arranged in organized production lines, their metal still bearing the marks of recent crafting.
Kenobi moved deeper toward the center of the mining operation, approaching what appeared to be a newly established assembly line for jetpacks and helmets. The equipment was sophisticated and clearly designed for mass production rather than individual craftsmanship.
He picked up one of the helmets to examine its construction, noting the familiar T-shaped visor design that was iconic to Mandalorian culture, when his enhanced hearing detected someone approaching rapidly from behind.
Obi-Wan spun around just in time to see a heavily armed Mandalorian warrior opening fire on him with a powerful blaster rifle. The Jedi instinctively raised the helmet as an improvised shield, and the impact of the blaster bolts knocked him backward to the ground.
Kenobi quickly recovered his footing and ignited his blue lightsaber, its humming blade casting dancing shadows on the cave walls, only to discover that his initial attacker had vanished into the maze of equipment and shadows.
Moving forward cautiously with his weapon at the ready, Obi-Wan called out to the hidden Mandalorian, hoping to avoid unnecessary violence. "I am here on an official diplomatic mission under the direct protection of Duchess Satine. I mean no harm to you or your operations."
"We do not recognize her authority or her pacifist government," came the gruff reply as the Mandalorian emerged from behind cover and charged toward Obi-Wan while firing a sustained barrage.
As the armored warrior closed the distance between them, Kenobi executed a precise spinning kick that connected with the man's blaster rifle, sending the weapon flying from his grasp and clattering across the stone floor.
However, moments later, Obi-Wan's lightsaber was suddenly blasted from his own hand by a second Mandalorian who had positioned himself on an elevated control platform overlooking the production floor.
Finding himself disarmed and facing multiple opponents, Obi-Wan quickly engaged the nearest Mandalorian in hand-to-hand combat, utilizing his Jedi training to unleash a series of precise strikes. Unfortunately, he was soon overwhelmed as two additional Death Watch operatives emerged from concealment, grabbing his arms and restraining him effectively. Before he could break free using the Force, a heavy boot connected with his face, and consciousness faded to black.
Back in the governor's dining chamber...
Satine and Matt had settled comfortably at the elegantly set table while Vizsla poured each of them a glass of what appeared to be fine Mandalorian wine, the liquid gleaming amber in the room's warm lighting.
"Alien alcohol," Matt thought to himself with mild amusement. "This is definitely a first for me."
"Someone has been feeding deliberately false intelligence directly to the Republic Senate, claiming that Death Watch is successfully taking control of Mandalore's government," Satine said, her tone growing more serious as they moved into substantive discussion. "The question we need to answer is: who benefits from spreading these specific lies?"
"Death Watch themselves, obviously," Vizsla replied, as if the answer was self-evident to any reasonable person.
"They couldn't have orchestrated this level of sophisticated disinformation on their own," Satine countered thoughtfully. "This operation is clearly much more complex and well-funded than we initially suspected. I believe some external force is providing them with resources and strategic guidance."
"Undoubtedly. It must be someone with significant influence among the Separatist leadership," Vizsla agreed, nodding gravely.
"Separatists?" Matt interjected with carefully measured surprise. "Why would the Separatist Alliance involve themselves in Mandalorian internal affairs?"
"An excellent question," Satine said, turning to face Vizsla directly. "Why would they target me specifically?"
Vizsla smiled knowingly in response to her inquiry, his expression suggesting he found her question somewhat naive. "Duchess, I'm genuinely surprised you don't see the obvious strategic implications. You lead the Council of Neutral Systems, which represents hundreds of worlds that refuse to choose sides in this war. As such, your influence directly threatens both the Separatists' expansion goals and the Republic's military recruitment efforts." He raised his wine glass in her direction with what seemed like respectful acknowledgment. "Consider it a compliment, in a way. Someone very powerful is actively working toward your political downfall."
They all drank their wine and fell into contemplative silence for several moments.
"Governor Vizsla," Matt began carefully, his legal training guiding his approach, "with all due respect, what do you personally know about Death Watch operations and capabilities?"
Vizsla set down his glass and wiped his mouth thoughtfully. "I know they represent a genuine terrorist threat, as evidenced by the bombing that occurred on Mandalore today. They deliberately target civilian populations with no regard for innocent lives. While I maintain deep respect for our ancient warrior culture and traditions, the deliberate murder of innocent people is absolutely inexcusable under any circumstances."
Matt detected the passion in Vizsla's voice but somehow couldn't sense the emotional conviction that should have accompanied such strong words.
"I completely agree with that assessment," Matt said, nodding approvingly. "What do you know about the other faction—the Protectors?"
The governor's hesitation was so subtle that it would have been completely imperceptible to normal observation. Yet Matt's enhanced senses caught it immediately, along with the slight change in the man's vocal patterns and breathing rhythm.
"I haven't had much direct contact with other Mandalorian factions—Death Watch keeps us busy enough with their local activities," Vizsla said slowly, his words carefully measured. "Only what I've been able to gather from occasional intelligence reports. From what I understand, they follow a different code of conduct than either Death Watch or the New Mandalorians."
As he spoke, the man unconsciously rubbed his left arm, and Matt noticed a barely perceptible twitch in his eyebrow. Satine didn't appear to observe these subtle tells, but for someone with Matt's enhanced perception and courtroom experience...
Based on his physical reactions, that arm was definitely injured recently. In fact, Governor Vizsla's entire body language suggested recent physical stress as Matt focused more intently on his breathing patterns and heart rate.
Though Vizsla was clearly attempting to control his responses, Matt recognized the subtle breathing patterns of someone who had recently been engaged in strenuous physical activity—possibly combat. He was familiar with bacta healing technology from his briefings, but even advanced medical treatment didn't always completely eliminate the physical and psychological aftereffects of violence.
"What specific information have you heard about them, Governor?" Matt probed as diplomatically as possible, maintaining his friendly demeanor. "I find myself increasingly curious about the apparent proliferation of Mandalorian political factions."
"It's... complicated political territory," Vizsla said evasively, then deliberately changed the subject. "Master Kenobi's meditation session seems to be taking considerably longer than expected."
What neither of them realized was the true nature of Obi-Wan's current predicament.
"You know how Jedi are about their spiritual practices," Satine said with a mixture of affection and mild exasperation. "They never approach anything halfway—when they commit to meditation, it tends to be thorough and time-consuming."
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