One year has passed since Lorenzo and Lara escaped the Pale Father's wrath on Hoth. Lorenzo has hardened — his body scarred, his soul quieter. He now wears hybrid Mandalorian armor, black trimmed in silver, a symbol of rebirth and regret. His new lightsaber burns white, symbolizing balance — neither Jedi nor Sith. Under Lara's leadership, Mandalore has unified. Refugees, rebels, and warriors have gathered under her banner. Lorenzo rarely speaks. His time is spent in battle simulations, hunting fragments of Jedi wisdom, and training Mandalorian recruits in lightsaber combat and strategy. We're not ready for another war. Neither are they. That's why we strike now. You're not here to destroy yourself. You're here to lead them.
Lorenzo's journey to Jedha's ruins is shown in flashback. There, amid fallen statues and broken holocrons, he confronts a Force vision: his brother Domenico, bloodied, accusing. You became everything we feared, everything we fought against. Not anymore. He forges a white-bladed saber alone in the ruins, leaving his crimson saber buried beneath the dust. This is the moment he fully steps out of the shadow of the Pale Father.
The Rebellion's remnants join Mandalore under Lara's leadership. Rebel commanders are wary of Lorenzo's reputation as the Pale Father's former assassin, but Lara defends him fiercely. Together, they plan their final strike: Endor, now transformed into the Pale Father's war world. His fleets orbit it. His cultists and monstrous troops infest its surface. Why Endor? Why now? Because monsters grow bold when they think no one will fight them. And we fight them together.
The battle is brutal. Star Destroyers clash with Rebel and Mandalorian fleets in orbit. On the forest moon below, Mandalorians descend in waves alongside rebel troopers.
Lorenzo leads from the front, a white blade blazing through waves of twisted Sithspawn and cultists. His cold, precise fighting style is terrifying, reminiscent of Darth Maul — but now tempered with clarity. As they press toward the heart of Endor's fortress, Lara commands the siege: Cut them off. Burn their supplies. Break their command lines. This is how we win.
Deep within the corrupted ruins of the old Imperial bunker lies the Pale Father's throne —a grotesque fusion of flesh, metal, and ancient Sith relics. The Pale Father waits, robed in black and crimson, his cracked mask leaking shadows. Lorenzo confronts him alone.
Did you think you could crawl from my shadow? I made you. No. You broke me. I made it myself. Their duel is violent, savage, and unnatural. The Pale Father's blade seems to bleed reality itself. Lorenzo's white blade pushes back against the darkness with raw determination. Blow after blow, they tear the throne room apart. Columns shatter. Stone crumbles. Pale Father (taunting) Your brother's blood… your victims… they cry out beneath your feet! Lorenzo falters but rises again. And I'll carry them… beyond you. The Pale Father wounds him grievously, piercing Lorenzo's side with a Force blast that bends reality itself. But Lorenzo smiles through the blood. Lorenzo (whispering to comm): Lara. Now.
While Lorenzo's battle unfolds, Lara and the Mandalorians smash through the final defenses outside. Rebel ships decimate the remaining fleet above. Lara reaches the throne room as Lorenzo collapses to his knees. The Pale Father doesn't see her coming. Her blaster fires into his back, staggering him. Then, with precision learned from Lorenzo himself, she drives a beskar spear through his heart. Pale Father (dying, laughing): You think this ends with me? Darkness always returns… Lara: Not this time. She ignites Lorenzo's fallen white saber and severs the Pale Father's head in one clean stroke. Lorenzo, bleeding out, reaches for Lara's hand. His expression is calm. You were right. I wasn't meant to survive this. Lara (tears in her eyes): You gave us this future. That's enough. Lorenzo (smiling faintly): Tell them… I chose who I became. He dies with peace on his face. Lara closes his eyes. The battle is won.
Months later. Lara, now Senator of Mandalore and the Free Systems, speaks before the newly reformed Galactic Senate. Mandalorian banners hang beside the Republic's crest. The war is over. The Empire is dead. We did not win through fear or destruction, but through unity… through hope. Let us rebuild not empires, but futures. A murmur runs through the chambers. Some breathe in relief. Some wipe tears. Some sit in solemn silence. The Empire is dead. Its cruelty, its fear… ended not by another Empire, but by those it tried to break. We did not win through domination. Not through terror. Not by burning worlds into submission. We won through unity. Through trust. Through hope. She glances briefly to the empty seat left for Lorenzo Maxwell, her face tightening with quiet grief but only for a moment. Let this be the last time we rebuild from ruin. Let this be the last time we call vengeance leadership. Let this be the last time we forget who we are… and who we fight for. The room is silent, hanging on her every word. We will not rebuild empires. We will rebuild futures. Together."Mandalore stands with the Free Systems. Not above them. Not apart from them. Beside them. A Mandalorian creed, once written for war, now guides us into peace: Strength through Unity. Honor through Choice. Freedom through Sacrifice. Across the vast chamber, one by one, Senators begin to stand. Some in silence. Some clapping. Some saluting. Others bowing their heads in respect. The thunder of applause rises. The galaxy listens. The galaxy accepts. The galaxy dares, once more, to hope.
Lara stands alone, watching the city below. The twin banners flutter gently behind her. A faint smile crosses her face as she places her hand over the Mandalorian crest on her chestplate.