The Jedi Council chambers were quiet, heavy with unease. Reports had trickled in from Outer Rim worlds: whispers of pirates slaughtered by "warriors in unbreakable armor," of fleets vanishing without a trace. Nothing verifiable. Nothing solid.
Qui-Gon Jinn stood before the Council, his voice calm but edged with curiosity."I walked the streets of Mandalore. I saw a peaceful world, rebuilt from scars of war. Their people are thriving, their clans united. If there is power growing there, they hide it well."
Yoda's ears drooped slightly as he hummed in thought. "Hidden, perhaps. Dangerous? No proof, there is. Watch, we must. But act? We must not."
And so, the Jedi withdrew, their gaze still wary but finding no handhold to justify interference. Mandalore remained, in the eyes of the Republic, nothing more than a neutral world on the edge of the galaxy.
In the shipyard's docking bays, Jango prepared to leave once more. His path led to Kamino, where Count Dooku known to him only as Tyranus—awaited. The clones required his guidance, his training, his DNA.
Shepard clasped his brother's forearm in farewell ."Remember, vod. You are their father as much as their template. Teach them well."
Jango smirked. "Don't worry. If they inherit half of what I've learned, the Republic won't know what hit them."
He glanced once at the rows of Infinity-class carriers taking shape, then back at Shepard. "Just don't finish building an empire without me."
Shepard's eyes glinted ."Don't take too long, then."
With that, the Prowler launched into hyperspace, vanishing into the void.
The Shield of Mandalore
Left on Mandalore, Shepard turned his focus inward. The people had rebuilt, the clans had united, but true security required more.
He stood in the command nexus beneath Sundari, watching as the planetary shield generators came online one by one. Massive towers, rooted into the bedrock, linked together in a lattice of energy that could shrug off orbital bombardments.
Above, new satellites deployed eyes in the void, warning systems tied into the command networks.
Beneath, aqueducts spread from restored rivers, feeding vast farms on Concordia. Crops flourished, super-seeds yielding harvests unheard of. No Mandalorian child would go hungry again.
Cities gleamed with clean energy pulled from stellar matter. Hospitals were filled with advanced technology once thought impossible. Schools and academies thrived, teaching not only combat, but science, engineering, and culture.
Shepard walked the streets in plain armor, unseen among the people, and listened. For the first time in centuries, laughter outweighed grief. The people believed in tomorrow.
The Hidden Truth
None outside Mandalore knew of the Infinity fleet growing on the second moon, hidden behind projections. None knew of the Spartan legions drilling in secret caverns, or the matter engines bleeding distant suns for resources.
The Republic saw only a neutral system quietly recovering. The Jedi felt only faint ripples in the Force, too subtle to draw their hand. The underworld dismissed Mandalore as too disciplined to exploit.
And that was exactly as Shepard intended.
From his private balcony, he looked across Sundari's skyline as the sun dipped low. His hand rested on the railing, armored fingers tracing faint grooves.
"Let them underestimate us," he murmured to himself.