The Prowler's engines hummed as it departed Mandalore's orbit, slipping into the void with Jango at the helm. His path would take him to Kamino, to the shadowed halls where Tyranus waited, and to the role that would change the galaxy forever.
Shepard watched from the balcony of the Fett stronghold as the stars swallowed the ship. His brother was walking into danger, but also into destiny. Mandalore would have eyes within the coming war, and resources would flow home.
Yet Shepard's thoughts were already elsewhere. Mandalore had risen from ashes, but to remain free, it needed more than fields and schools. It needed fleets. It needed strength the galaxy had never seen.
Concordia had been reborn with farms and mining, but Shepard's gaze had shifted to Mandalore's second moon: a barren rock of craters and jagged ridges. To most, it was lifeless, unworthy of attention.
To Shepard, it was a blank canvas.
The nanite printer his hidden forge of wonders was brought in with shipments of beskar, durasteel, and alloys scavenged by Jango's strike teams. Day after day, Shepard worked with engineers and smiths, etching tunnels and caverns deep into the moon's crust.
And then, he unveiled it.
A shipyard the size of a continent, hidden beneath rock and shadow. Its walls glowed with power conduits, its foundries roared with fire. Entire slipways stretched into the void, waiting for warships to be birthed.
Shepard stood at its heart, watching the skeletal frames of titanic ships being lowered into place. His voice was quiet, but it carried through the chamber like a prayer.
"Ah… my masterpiece. You will churn out ships, weapons, a future for Mandalore."
Infinity-Class Supercarriers
The first design was no ordinary cruiser. Shepard drew from the legends of his past life, the might of humanity's fleets in Halo.
The Infinity-class Supercarrier.
Each one was a city in space, bristling with weaponry, armor reinforced with beskar, and hangars large enough to unleash swarms of starfighters. They were not mere ships they were nations forged in steel.
Ten were laid down at once, their colossal spines stretching across the cavern docks like sleeping gods.
Completion would take years seven at least but time was a weapon Shepard knew how to wield. Mandalore had patience. Mandalore had vision. And when the galaxy finally saw these ships emerge from the shadows, it would never look at the Mandalorians as fractured mercenaries again.
The second moon could not remain bare. Shepard ordered a projection system constructed across its surface, a planetary-scale holographic shroud. From space, it appeared unchanged a lifeless rock, untouched and ignored.
But within, the foundries burned, the slipways thrummed, and Mandalore's future was forged.
When the council was summoned to witness it, even the most hardened warriors stood in awe.
One clan leader whispered, his voice reverent and afraid:"By Kad Ha'rangir… this is no shipyard. This is a god-forge."
Another spoke bluntly, his voice tight with unease:"With this, we could conquer systems. Perhaps the whole galaxy."
Shepard stood before them, armored, his presence undeniable."No. With this, we will never kneel again."
The council fell silent. For some, fear lingered. For most, pride swelled. But none could deny what their leader had accomplished.
As construction continued, Mandalore itself grew stronger. The people farmed, studied, and built. Returning warriors found not only a home, but a future.
And far away, Jango Fett met with Tyranus, his genetic code becoming the foundation of an army that would soon march across the stars.
The galaxy drifted toward war. Mandalore sharpened its blade in silence.