**Chapter 422**
**Rothana Orbit**
**Resurgent-class Star Destroyer Gray Wolf**
**Dagon POV**
The bridge of the *Gray Wolf* hummed with disciplined efficiency. Officers moved between stations with crisp purpose while the massive viewport framed the icy shipyards of Rothana below. Dozens of Republic and independent vessels hung in formation around my fleet, but my attention remained fixed on the incoming holo-transmission.
Skywalker and Kenobi. The gifted bunch, as the Order liked to call them. The Chosen One and the Negotiator. I couldn't suppress the bitter edge in my thoughts. Where were they when Naboo was attacked all those years ago? Where were they during the early campaigns when systems fell one after another? Yet the Chancellor favored them. Despite me bleeding across half the galaxy, Palpatine ensured his golden boys received the praise for every high-profile action.
The transmission resolved. Obi-Wan Kenobi appeared first, his beard neatly trimmed, expression calm and measured. Beside him stood Anakin Skywalker, radiating that familiar restless energy. Ahsoka was back at Lantilles with the others, so Anakin's current Padawan, Etain, stood at his side. On the other side of the holo stood Jedi Master Shin Wen and her Padawan.
Shin Wen was striking. She looked like the actress Emilia Clarke in her prime—flawless ivory skin, delicate yet strong features—but with long, flowing white hair that cascaded past her shoulders and piercing purple eyes that seemed to hold centuries of wisdom. Her family had served the Jedi Order for ten generations. She was flawless in every lightsaber form and a master of martial arts. Her brother, Master Zhou Wen, served as warden of the secret prison known as The Prism—the Ghost Prison—housing fallen Jedi and other galactic terrors. The Lotus Battalion, clones who served both Wen siblings, were among the first batches from Kamino and trained extensively in Teräs Käsi, the deadly hand-to-hand art designed specifically to combat Force-sensitives.
Beside Shin stood her Padawan, Erictia. A young woman in her early twenties with flawless ivory skin, silky brown hair, and enchanting amber eyes. She had been speaking quietly with a group of clone troopers before the meeting. Erictia wielded two soft blue lightsabers and was incredibly gifted in Force healing. She had saved countless Jedi and clones throughout the war and was an exceptional duelist in her own right.
"Greetings, General Dagon," Obi-Wan said warmly, though his eyes widened slightly. "Whoa… new armor?"
I stood in full modified Neo-Crusader beskar'gam, salvaged and reforged from Malachor V. The dark plates, etched with subtle Sith runes that only I could see, fit like a second skin—stronger, lighter, and far more protective than standard Jedi robes.
"Yes," I replied evenly. "Taken from Malachor V. Neo-Crusader design, modified with beskar."
Anakin leaned forward. "But the Jedi Code—"
I cut him off with a raised hand. "Have you ever saved a planet single-handedly? Deactivated a Mass Shadow Generator? Faced an immortal Gen'Dai twice? If not, no questions. We have a battle to win and a world to save."
Shin Wen watched me carefully, her purple eyes calm but assessing. Erictia stood slightly behind her, amber gaze curious and a little wary.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Of course. Shall we review fleet dispositions?"
Kenobi had his flagship *Negotiator* and five Venators along with five Accumulator-class assault ships. Skywalker commanded the *Resolute* plus ten Venators. Master Shin Wen brought three Venators and fifteen CR90 corvettes. Solid support, but my own fleet dwarfed theirs in raw power and technological edge.
"Interesting bunch," I muttered under my breath.
A voice interrupted my thoughts. "Sir, we are being hailed."
The full group appeared on the main holomap. Etain, Anakin's Padawan, offered a respectful nod. Wren—another Jedi Knight present—looked shy as she addressed me.
"Um, Master Dagon?" she began hesitantly.
"I am not a Master. Just a Knight."
"Technically you are," Wren replied. "You have a Padawan. Or at least two."
"But you are not a Master, and we are the same age," I said calmly. The deeper, darker timbre my voice sometimes carried now made a few of them shift uncomfortably.
Anakin crossed his arms. "We should at least hear your plan. We don't know the current enemy fleet status over Ryloth."
"Never mind that. Just prepare to jump."
The holomap expanded, showing the planned route.
"First, we will jump to the Roon system in the Abrion sector. Once there, I will jump ahead and clear any traps for your forces. When I engage the blockade and any possible reinforcements, I will signal new jump coordinates. We trap and eliminate the enemy fleet in detail."
Master Shin Wen studied the map. "A bold strategy. You intend to act as the spearhead alone?"
"I intend to win," I replied.
The conversation continued for several more minutes, with Obi-Wan offering diplomatic suggestions and Anakin pushing for more aggressive timing. Erictia listened intently, occasionally glancing at me with those amber eyes, no doubt sensing the turbulent currents beneath my surface. Shin Wen remained composed, but I could tell she was measuring me—ten generations of Jedi instinct warning her that something about General Dagon Marek was fundamentally different now.
I ended the transmission once the jump coordinates were locked in.
**Scene 2**
**Dagon POV**
I stood alone on the observation deck overlooking the *Gray Wolf's* bridge as the fleet prepared for the first jump. *Man, those Jedi are too much in a rush.* Luckily, I still had my contingencies for the battle.
Grand Captain Wilhuff Tarkin appeared on a private holoscreen, his sharp features impassive.
"Sir, are you certain about not fully advising the other Jedi? The Chancellor speaks very favorably of Skywalker."
I allowed a small, cold smile. "The Jedi is too young. We had to rescue his forces at Christophsis, and we covered for his actions at Bothawui while the CIS focused their attention on us at Falleen. Anyway, the Allegiance-class and Valiant-class heavy turbolasers are capable of turning any planet to molten slag at range. That advantage is ours."
Tarkin nodded. "Yes, sir. But the route you're taking through the Death Wind Corridor… are you sure?"
"Positive."
The transmission ended. I turned back to the viewport, watching the stars begin to streak as the *Gray Wolf* led my fleet into hyperspace. The other Jedi forces would follow a slightly longer, safer path. I had other plans.
**Scene 3**
The Death Wind Corridor, sometimes simply called Death Wind, was a notorious spice trade route. It passed through an intersecting portion of the Outer Rim Territories and the Slice regions, connecting the Roon system in the Abrion sector with the Ryloth system in the Gaulus sector. The corridor intersected the Corellian Run at Ryloth and the Triellus Trade Route at Roon, passing through the dangerous Cloak of the Sith. Together with the Mumble's Turnaround smugglers' route, these hyperlanes formed the infamous Spice Triangle linking Roon, Ryloth, and Tatooine.
For Kenobi and the others, the journey would be longer. For me, a certain Sith holocron recovered from Malachor had revealed a hidden path through an uncharted nebula—one that would keep us far from CIS scanner nets and allow us to emerge with the element of complete surprise.
I stood on the bridge as the *Gray Wolf* and my full armada—Valiant, Resurgents, Allegiances, Starkillers, and the rest—navigated the treacherous but hidden route. The nebula's swirling gases glowed with eerie colors against the viewport, but my upgraded sensors and the ancient knowledge from the holocron guided us safely.
Ryloth hung in the distance on the tactical display. Cham Syndulla's freedom fighters had been waiting for this day. I had made a promise to help liberate his world, and that promise would soon be fulfilled.
The fleet emerged from the nebula in perfect formation. No CIS probes. No early warnings. Just the silent, overwhelming presence of my warships materializing like ghosts ready to deliver judgment.
"General," Captain Firmus Piett reported from the *Knull*, "all ships report ready. The blockade above Ryloth is unaware of our presence."
"Excellent," I replied. "Send the signal to the other Jedi forces when we engage. Today, Ryloth begins its path to freedom."
I thought of the girls back on Lantilles—Stella, Kayla, Flare, and the rest. Of Ashara and Nox. Of the emotional wreckage I had left behind with the Force illusion. All of it felt distant now, pushed aside by the cold clarity of command.
This was what I was built for.
The Soldier. The weapon.
"Begin the assault," I ordered.
The *Gray Wolf* surged forward, its massive turbolaser batteries already charging. Behind it, the might of my fleet followed—hundreds of warships ready to break the Separatist grip on Ryloth once and for all.
The liberation had begun.