The moon base was stirring before dawn, though "dawn" meant little in the void between planets. The twin suns of the system were distant, casting only a pale glimmer across the rugged surface of the rock. Inside the steel corridors of the base, however, energy pulsed with purpose. Engineers, technicians, and warriors moved with silent urgency.
In the heart of it all, a new facility had come online — the Warforge.
Massive, thunderous, and lined with alloyed basalt and reinforced beskar plating, it stretched hundreds of meters beneath the surface. Sparks danced from suspended cranes. Automated arms welded frames with industrial precision. It was the beginning of something greater than any single warrior.
Sira stood at the observation deck, arms crossed, her armor recently re-plated in dark gunmetal gray.
"The first hull plates are ready," Talyen reported beside her. "Power infrastructure can support four launch bays, once we finish expanding the fusion core."
Sira nodded slowly. "No point having Mandalorians without a crusader fleet."
"About time we took to the stars," Joron added, stepping in behind them. "And when we do, we go loud."
Strategic Priorities
Later that day, the War Council assembled in the Command Core, a hexagonal room lined with holomaps and tactical stations. Around the central table, the lead commanders — including Talyen, Joron, Alor Solen of the armorers, and several clan representatives — debated their next moves.
Sira called the meeting to order.
"Now that we've recovered the Sith artifact and contained it, we shift to offense," she said. "Our goal: secure orbital dominance."
A 3D holographic projection of the planetary system lit up — three asteroid belts, two moons, and a dwarf planet lurking on the outer edge.
"We'll start with Asteroid Cluster Alpha. Mining potential is high, and it's sparsely occupied. Establishing an orbital dockyard and forward base there will let us deploy larger ship classes."
"Do we know who else is in orbit?" Solen asked.
Talyen nodded. "Some of the droid faction's probes have been spotted. Passive surveillance mostly, but they're scouting."
"Let them," Joron said. "We'll send a message soon enough."
Deployment Begins
The next day, the Mandalorian Drop Battalion loaded into transport shuttles. Three heavily armored freighters accompanied them, retrofitted with point-defense turrets and electromagnetic shielding. Their destination: Asteroid B-09, a mid-sized rock with a deep equatorial trench ideal for underground facilities.
The landing went smoothly.
Engineers deployed stabilizing struts and drilled support pylons into the rock. Prefabricated structures emerged from the ships' modular bays — a field command post, power generators, and a series of collapsible hangars.
Above them, orbital sentries began deploying small recon drones into nearby asteroid fields.
Within the first forty-eight hours, the outpost was online. They named it Bastion Thorn.
Opposition Stirring
Back on the planet, deep within the encrypted comms of the system interface, a hidden notification pulsed red.
Incoming encrypted transmissionOrigin: Unknown orbital vectorSource signature: Sith-derived architecture
Talyen traced the data stream and rerouted it to the isolated Black Box.
Inside, a distorted voice emerged: low, guttural, and almost static. "You dig in the bones of gods. Be wary that they do not wake."
Alarms blared.
The Sith Shadow
In orbit, a cloaked probe vessel powered down its transmitter and began adjusting course. The Sith acolyte who had dissolved in the ruins — or something like him — had returned.
But not as a man. As a whisper.
Within the probe's corrupted core, red lines of code etched across its synthetic brain. Coordinates were fed into its system. A new location: Bastion Thorn.
The Sith were watching.
Chapter Closing
Back in the Warforge, the first full starfighter — a Mandalorian Fang-class — was lowered onto the deck.
Its angular design gleamed in the light, twin wings folded upward like a bird of prey poised to strike. The shriek of its engines during ignition made the gathered crowd pause.
Sira placed a gauntleted hand on its hull. "One ship," she said quietly. "The beginning of a fleet."
Joron smirked. "How long until they regret ever waking us up?"