The stars stretched into bright white pillars before snapping back into pinpoints of light as The Prowler exited hyperspace. The sleek gunmetal vessel drifted forward under silent sublight engines, wings folding inward in a smooth mechanical motion. Mandalore's system shimmered ahead green world, blue oceans, restored forests, vibrant cities sprawling where once there had been dust.
Jango Fett stood at the cockpit viewport for a long moment.
He remembered this world when it was dying.
Now it lived.
Its sky burned with sunrise. Its surface shone with thriving life. The reconstruction wasn't just material it was cultural. Mandalorian children laughing in training yards. Markets trading goods from across the Outer Rim. Armories expanding. Schools open. Families growing.
Hope.
A word he never used out loud.
But it was there.
He tapped the comm.
"Mandalore defense net, this is Jango Fett. Clearance code: Kando-Resh-Two-Four."
A voice responded immediately strong, proud, disciplined.
"Welcome home, Fett. You are cleared to approach."
Home.
The word settled heavier than armor.
The Prowler descended through cloud banks, landing on the polished steel platform beside one of Mandalore's new military complexes sleek black durasteel accented with silver, design language modern yet unmistakably Mandalorian.
Waiting for him stood Shepard cloak swept over one shoulder, armor beneath it matte black with orange streaks along the plates. Taller now. Denser. Muscles like durasteel cables. Not enhanced superficially but fundamentally. A figure shaped to endure war.
And beside him, walking with the confident stride of a commander, was Arla Fett.
Jango's younger sister.
No longer the bright-eyed youth he once lectured about discipline. Now she was sharp, steady, and carrying herself with the quiet lethality of one who lived among enemies to understand them. She wore standard Mandalorian armor but dark green, with red sigils marking infiltration unit designation.
She had returned from her deep-cover assignment in the Separatist diplomatic networks under new orders.
When Jango removed his helmet, Arla stepped forward and pressed her forehead to his.
Mandalorian greeting.Not warrior-to-warrior.
Family-to-family.
"Welcome home."
Jango exhaled slowly.
"It's good to be home."
Shepard stepped forward, expression calm but eyes sharp.
"The mission?"
Jango handed him a datachip encrypted, sealed with multiple authentication layers.
"Cloning transition complete. Phase-One units stable. Kamino's training regimen is underway. The Jedi believe the army was commissioned by one of their own."
A small, satisfied smile placed itself on Shepard's lips not pride.Confirmation.
"Good. Things are unfolding as expected."
Jango nodded.
"But I bring more than updates.""General Grievous is on the move. The Republic is losing ground fast. The Jedi are being killed. Clones are dying by the thousands. Whole worlds fall before they can respond."
Shepard didn't flinch his expression remained analytical, calculating variables instead of reacting emotionally.
"Palpatine wants a war that lasts. The longer the galaxy bleeds, the more it depends on him."
Arla crossed her arms.
"I've watched the Separatist council more closely than the Jedi have. Half the corporations funding Grievous are the same ones the Republic is awarding military procurement contracts to."
Jango snorted bitterly.
"So both sides are being fed by the same hands."
Shepard nodded.
"Because war isn't about victory. It's about dependence. Palpatine needs the Republic to believe only he can end it."
The three stood in silence for a moment as the wind rolled across the landing platform.
Eventually, Shepard turned.
"Come. There is much to discuss."
The Council Assembly Hall Mandalore
The Great Hall was filled.
Clan leaders representing the reformed Mandalorian Houses stood around a circular projection table. Banners of ancient lineage hung from the walls—Viszla, Kryze, Fett, Ordo, Rook, Saxon each restored, each proud, each reborn. Shepard took his place at the center. Jango at his right. Arla at his left.
The hologram of the Outer Rim blinked to life marked with battle lines, burned worlds, and contested sectors.
Shepard spoke clearly.
"The Clone War is not our war."
A murmur spread agreement mixed with unease.
"But the galaxy will come for us Republic or Separatist if we remain unprepared."
He gestured another hologram replaced it.
A Halo Array ring massive, ancient-looking, beautiful and terrifying in scale.
The work of years.
Silent guardians encircling Mandalorian space.
Some in the room swallowed hard.
The council Matriarch of Clan Rook spoke, voice steady:
"What are they truly meant for, Mand'alor?"
Shepard didn't lie.
"To ensure the Mandalorian people are never conquered again. The Death Star is coming years from now, but inevitable. Palpatine seeks ultimate power. I intend to ensure he never obtains uncontested dominion."
Silence.
Then the head of Clan Ordo struck his armored fist against his chest.
"Then Mandalore stands ready to defend itself."
The room voiced agreement not loudly, but with the unified, iron certainty of warriors.
Private Council ,Shepard, Jango, Arla
When the hall cleared, Shepard spoke quietly:
"Jango. You'll return to Kamino. Your position there is critical. The clones trust you they look to you. The Jedi cannot see how deeply their army belongs to someone they do not understand."
Jango nodded.
"And when the Order falls?"
Shepard met his eyes.
"You will bring our sons home."
Not Mandalorian clones.
Not Republic clones.
Mandalorian sons.
Arla leaned forward.
"And what of the Separatists?"
Shepard turned to her, voice low and firm.
"Remain embedded. Your intelligence is one of our greatest weapons. Grievous is effective because he is focused. But the Separatist council is riddled with rivals. We will need those fractures."
Arla smiled under her helmet visor.
Deadly.
"Good. I missed the game."
Jango's Departure
The Prowler's engines roared to life.
Shepard and Jango stood at the edge of the platform once more.
No salute.No dramatics.
Just brothers.
Warriors.
"Don't get killed," Shepard said quietly.
Jango smirked behind the visor.
"I'm too stubborn for that."
The Prowler launched into the sky, burning a white trail through the clouds.
Mandalore watched one of its strongest sons return to the storm.
And Shepard stood alone again eyes rising to the Halo Array glinting faintly above the atmosphere.
Preparation was nearly complete.
The galaxy simply hadn't realized it yet.