Mandalore's Quiet Strength
It had been nearly three decades since Shepard first opened his eyes beneath the crest of Clan Fett. Mandalore was unrecognizable compared to the dust-choked world he had inherited. Verdant plains stretched across Concordia, rivers once dry now flowed with engineered abundance, and cities bustled with markets and industry.
The Infinity-class carriers loomed like silent gods above the second moon, their hulls nearly complete, escorts orbiting them in protective lines. The Mandalorian Spartan Corps had expanded into legions — enhanced warriors loyal to Mandalore first and the galaxy never. Planetary shields webbed the skies, ensuring that no fleet could strike Mandalore without bleeding heavily for it.
To the galaxy, Mandalore remained neutral, its people known as warriors and mercenaries-for-hire. But those who returned home whispered of marvels — prosperity, unity, and strength unlike anything seen since the ancient days.
The Senate Erupts
Far away on Coruscant, the Senate boiled with chaos. The Trade Federation had blockaded Naboo, citing taxation disputes and new trade restrictions. Shepard watched it unfold through secure holonet intercepts, his expression unreadable as ambassadors and diplomats screamed in chambers he had long rejected.
For Mandalore, neutrality was a shield. But Shepard knew this blockade was not about tariffs. It was the opening move of something larger, something orchestrated. His instincts told him the galaxy's storm was about to break.
Jango on Kamino
Meanwhile, Jango Fett drilled another regiment of clones on Kamino. Rain hammered the transparent dome above as he barked orders, movements sharp and merciless. These clones weren't children anymore — they were soldiers.
"Keep formation! Suppressive fire on my mark!" His voice echoed across the chamber. The cadets obeyed instantly, covering lanes with machine precision. Jango nodded once. They'll be ready. Sooner than the galaxy thinks.
Later, in the shadows of his quarters, he transmitted a secure burst message back to Mandalore:"The army is nearly complete. Your vision was right, vod. But I don't trust the hands that will wield it."
Arla in the Confederacy
Deep within Separatist circles, Arla Fett stood among smugglers, guild leaders, and senators whispering of secession. Already the cracks in the Republic spread, fear and greed driving worlds into the arms of the Confederacy. She played her part loyal, calculating, and invisible.
Her latest report reached Shepard through coded bursts:"The Separatists grow bold. Their armies swell with droids. Their financiers move faster than the Republic can track. War is coming."
Shepard read the message in silence. Then Mandalore will be ready.
Shadows Behind the Throne
And in the deepest layers of Coruscant, Darth Sidious smiled as his puppets danced. His master, Darth Plagueis, still whispered counsel, but Palpatine's web was already spreading. The Naboo crisis was the spark, the Jedi Council was blind, and the Senate was weak.
Soon, he thought, chaos will demand order. And when it does, the galaxy will have no choice but to kneel.
Shepard's Vision
On Mandalore, Shepard stood before the Council. A holo of Naboo's blockade shimmered above them.
"This war the galaxy creeps toward is not ours," Shepard said. "We will not be pawns of the Republic, nor slaves to the Confederacy. Mandalore will stand apart. Strong. Watchful. Ready."
The councilors bowed their heads, agreement unspoken but certain. Shepard looked beyond them, toward the stars.
The Phantom Menace had begun. And while Jedi, Sith, and Senators moved their pieces, Mandalore's hidden king built his own game one the galaxy would not see until it was too late.