Mandalorian warriors parted just enough to let Verd Fett step closer, his boots crunching in the red dirt. Up close, the clan patriarch was even more imposing broad shoulders, Beskar armor painted with weathered blue lines of honor, scars carved into the plating like ancient runes.
"Before we take you as brother," Verd said, "you will give us your name."
Jack hesitated.
Not from fear, Spartans didn't fear, but from instinct. Names were personal. Names were leveraged. ONI had trained him to give only what was necessary.
Cassandra chimed softly in his helmet.
"Spartan… culturally, this is important. Mandalorians value identity, not secrecy."
He sighed.
"Relax," she added. "If they wanted to kill you, they would have done it already."
Six cleared his throat.
"…Jack," he said at last. "My name is Jack."
Verd nodded slowly, as if testing the weight of the name.
"Jack," he repeated. "Simple. Strong. A warrior's name."
The Mandalorians murmured in approval.
Jango Fett stepped forward, eyes bright with curiosity.
"Jack of Clan…?"
Jack blinked once. "Didn't make it that far."
Jango snorted, amused.
Verd clasped Jack's shoulder with a warrior's grip. "Then today, you stand with Clan Fett. If you prove yourself worthy… the name Fett will be yours to carry."
Jack's dry voice slipped out before he could help himself:
"No pressure."
Several Mandalorians chuckled.
Jango grinned. "You're funny. I like you already."
Jack muttered, "That makes one of us."
"I heard that," Cassandra scolded in his helmet.
"They didn't," Jack whispered back.
Clan Fett escorted Jack across the rocky plains. Their stronghold sat atop a ridge towering walls of stone and durasteel, cannons mounted along the battlements, banners of blue and silver snapping in the wind.
Mandalorians moved with purpose. Every warrior wore Beskar, every child carried training gear. The air smelled of metal, oil, and smoke.
Cassandra whispered:
"This culture is… impressive. Efficient. Brutal. I approve."
Jack smirked behind his broken visor. "Should I be worried about that?"
"I didn't say it was a compliment."
They entered a vast hall lit by torches and suspended lamps. Armor stands lined the walls—Beskar forged generations before any of them were born.
Verd turned to face the clan, his voice echoing:
"This offworlder, Jack, fell from the sky and survived. He stands unbroken, with the courage of a warrior. Today, he begins his path among us."
The room hummed with interest. Some clan members looked curious. Some skeptical. Some are watching like hawks.
Cassandra muttered, "Congratulations. You've been drafted."
"Story of my life," Jack whispered.
Verd pointed to a circular arena carved into the hall floor.
"Jack. To walk with us, you must show your strength."
Jack rolled his shoulder, joints popping. "Figures."
A young warrior stepped into the ring, Beskar armor gleaming, dual blades in hand.
"This is Tor Fett," Verd announced. "A skilled fighter of our clan. Defeat him, and you earn the right to wear our colors."
Jack stepped into the circle.
Tor twirled his blades. "Don't die quickly, alor'ad."
Jack smirked. "No promises."
Cassandra added cheerfully, "Try not to break his spine."
"No promises," Jack repeated.
Tor lunged first, fast, aggressive, Mandalorian to the core.
Jack sidestepped, letting the blade slice past his damaged chestplate. His movements were efficient, precise, a lifetime of Spartan training boiled down to instinct.
Tor struck again.
Jack blocked with his forearm, twisted Tor's wrist, and sent the blade clattering across the arena.
Mandalorians murmured.
Tor snarled and swept low.
Jack hopped back lightly. "Nice try."
Tor charged
Jack stepped into the attack, grabbed the warrior by the collar, and flipped him onto his back with a thunderous impact.
Silence.
Tor groaned.
Jack stood over him. "You done?"
Tor wheezed, "…I yield."
Jack offered a hand. Tor slapped it away and stood on his own, grudgingly impressed.
Verd Fett raised his gauntleted hands.
"Jack. You have proven your strength."
The hall echoed with approval.
Cassandra whispered like a proud instructor:
"Well done, Spartan. You didn't even kill him."
"Yeah," Jack murmured. "Personal growth."
r
Verd stepped forward and placed both hands on Jack's shoulders.
"Jack, son of no clan… today you stand as brother of Jango Clan Fett."
The hall erupted with the thunderous sound of armored fists pounding against chests.
Jango stepped beside him, eyes shining with excitement.
"Looks like we're brothers now," Jango said.
Jack smirked. "Try not to regret it."
Jango elbowed him. "Try not to embarrass us."
Jack shrugged. "No promises."
Cassandra sighed. "I'm surrounded by children."
Jack whispered, "Welcome to the family."
She muttered, "…dear god."