Ships broke through the clouds of Dexun in formation: Fett clan transports, gunships, and freighters entered the atmosphere. Their engines roared like a rancor, scattering flocks of winged predators and sending massive beasts crashing through the undergrowth below.
They land gently and with precision. The Mandalorians disembarked in hell. As speeders were sent out across the moon of Dexun.
Humidity wrapped around them like a wet cloak. The air was heavy with rot, pollen, and the low, constant thrum of unseen life. Verd Fett stepped down the ramp of the lead ship and took in the sight.
Stone walls and metal were cracked, but were still standing. Towers broken, not fallen. Massive gates scarred by time and war alike. Vines as thick as cables strangled battlements once designed to mount Basilisk war droids.
Verd said nothing because he did not need to.
Jack stood at the edge of the clearing, cloak hanging loose, visor reflecting green and shadow and ruin.
"This is where they trained," he said quietly. "Where they broke warriors and forged survivors."
Tor Fett let out a low whistle. "This place hates us already."
Dxun did not care that Mandalorians had once ruled here. It tested them like any other intruder.
Beasts charged from the undergrowth, scaled beasts with too many limbs, fanged horrors that shrugged off blaster fire until someone put a vibroblade through their skull. Vines snapped tight around armor joints and tried to drag in the mud warriors.
The Fett clan answered with discipline.
Perimeter lines went up within hours. Heavy repeaters were mounted atop ancient stone that had once held identical weapons. Fire teams rotated in overlapping arcs. Kill zones formed naturally, as if the outpost itself remembered where enemies used to die.
Jack moved constantly.
He fought where the line bent, where the jungle pressed hardest. His shields flared and reset, flared and reset, and every time they did, something very large died shortly afterward.
Jango followed him everywhere.
Too young to fight in the first wave. Old enough to watch.
"This place is alive," the boy whispered as something massive roared beyond the treeline.
Jack didn't look away. "Yeah."
Jango swallowed. "Does it ever stop trying to kill you?"
Jack considered that.
"No," he said. "You just get better at not dying."
Jango nodded like that was the greatest answer he'd ever heard.
Once the perimeter was held, they started fully rebuilding.
Mandalorians stripped the jungle back with disciplined violence. Trees were cut down and used. Roots were burned out of the stone. Durasteel walls and buildings polish to a shine. Old bunks were replaced with modular racks. Weapon lockers were reopened, some still holding vibroblades etched with old clan markings no one recognized anymore. Power systems were restored slowly and carefully. Ancient conduits hummed, reluctant but functional.
Lights flickered on one by one, revealing control panels that still worked and even had old records. By the end of the week, the outpost no longer looked dead.
Cassandra's processing surged.
"This technology is sophisticated," she said. "Modular and brutally efficient, designed to interface with any mechanical systems." The training yards came next. Open stone circles scarred with ancient impact marks. Grooves in the floor where something heavy had landed repeatedly.
Now, smoke rose from forges. Laser turrets on towers. Planetary radar towers, once covered in vines, are fully active. Fett banners hung from stone and metal walls that were last seen centuries ago.
Ancient forges were cleared. When the first fire was started in the forge, it burned blue and steady, as if it had merely been waiting.
Jack knew this was a true home now.
Verd Fett stood beside Jack as lights illuminated the space.
"These are our real home is now," Verd said quietly.
Jack nodded. "yes and we can be again."
The jungle still watched.
But now, it kept its distance.
Mandalorians moved through the halls with purpose. Armor echoed against ancient floors. Laughter, sharp and rare, carried through corridors that had only known war.
Jango stood on a battlement beside Jack, staring out over the sea of green.
"This place," he said softly. "It feels… important."
Jack rested his forearms on the stone.
"It is," he said. "It's proof we weren't always scattered."
Jango looked up at him. "Will it be like this again?"
Jack didn't answer immediately.
"Yes," he said finally. "But stronger."
Below them, Dxun's jungle roared in challenge.
And for the first time in centuries
It roared back at Mandalorians who were ready.