Prologue

"I was curious to see how far you'd go to find me."

The woman who stood before him didn't turn around. She didn't have to, for he knew the HUD in her helmet allowed her to have a clear, three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of her surroundings. His provided the same information when he required it, as all Mandalorian helmets did. Instead, she elected to look out over the snowy precipice on which she stood.

"You're not easy to track, Ms. Fehl," he said matter-of-factly. "Once I had you, I wasn't about to let you slip away."

It was true. This woman had lead him on a months-long chase across the galaxy. Even though now she stood on the edge of a cliff, he knew better than to think that he had her cornered. At any moment, she could evade him once more. Her skills were impressive - born of an intense desire not to be found. All the more reason why he needed her help.

"High praise, coming from the great Jango Fett." She finally turned around, "Or is it Mand'alor these days?"

His jaw clenched slightly. He had held the title for a time, but the old ways were long gone. As far as he was concerned, the mantle had died with Jaster Mereel. If this woman abided by the same code he did, the same tenets that made a Mando, she would know as well as he did that their way of life was all but destroyed.

But that's not why he was here.

"You proved your worth, now it's time to talk business."

The woman removed her white helmet, confirming his suspicion that she had had enough of the games. "Business?" She scoffed, "That's what this is about?"

Fett removed his own helmet, "Consider it...a proposal, of-sorts."

"Whoever gave you my name surely told you I'm no longer in the business of collecting bounties." She raised a delicate blonde eyebrow.

Of course, they had. The reclusive bounty hunter known as Miri Fehl was one of the best, but hadn't been active for several months. Some said the young, ambitious woman had bitten off more than she could chew, and had died. Others said that she just disappeared and didn't want to be found. It was no matter, because that's not what he was after.

"There is no bounty," he reassured her. "It's much more involved than that."

Ice blue eyes narrowed, "So, what is involved?"

"I can't tell you much," he admitted. "Suffice to say, I need your skill set to help train the finest army in the galaxy."

"Army?" She blinked, "You need me to train an army?"

Fett shrugged, "More specifically, commandos. You will be handsomely compensated, of course."

Her icy gaze still bore through his skull, "And the catch?"

She's smart, he thought. Even at nineteen, she'd been all over the galaxy, and new that everything had a price. "You would become cuy'val dar."

Cuy'val Dar. Those who no longer exist. She would have to give up clan, kin, and everything she had ever known. By the look on her face, Fett saw she knew exactly what he had said.

With a smirk and a chuckle, she shook her head, "Nu daar." Not on your life. Obviously, the price was too steep. Fett knew next to nothing about her, but now he knew that she had plenty in her life that she felt was worth living for. Maybe he could use that some day.

But not today.

Replacing her helmet, the young woman said, "Good luck training your army."

"Won't need luck," Fett smirked before he put on his helmet, as well. By the time he looked back up again, she was gone.

Eight years later

Clone Cadet Training Facility

Tipoca City, Kamino

Ja'dari Cerar approached a figure standing at the railing overlooking the training floor. He cut an imposing image in his white and blue armor with a double-sided pauldron, and armed to the teeth. His facial features bore more than a resemblance to the late Jango Fett, save for heavy scarring he had earned on numerous battlefields.

"What have we got, Alpha?"

The clone shook his head, arms crossed, "Domino Squad, one of the new units they just put together."

She peered over the railing, observing a squad of five other clones, identical in their white and green training uniforms. The only way to tell them apart were the numbers painted on their backs.

"And?"

"And they're an absolute mess. I guarantee you, not a single one of them will be a prospect for us."

"You never know," Ja'dari continued to focus her attention on the squad. They were quite uncoordinated, and certainly didn't get along with one another.

One of the clone cadets wielded a DC-15A long rifle, and appeared to be a good shot with it at long range. However, he relied heavily on the others if the droids got too close. Another favored a rapid-fire gatling gun, and didn't much care to try and coordinate his attacks with the others. She chewed on her bottom lip as the squads next set of orders came in over the intercom.

"Advance and secure objective."

"We need to advance and secure the objective!" One of them shouted over the din of blaster bolts.

"We heard it the first time! I swear, it's like there's a blasted echo in here!" Another shouted back.

"Well, if you lot would actually follow the orders, I wouldn't have to repeat them!"

"Will you two just SHUT UP?" A third clone joined the argument.

"Not until you stop being droid bait!"

"How am I supposed to aim with you three going at it?" The clone with the long blaster sighed in exasperation.

She couldn't deny that they weren't getting anywhere, thanks to their lack of teamwork. But they had seen this before with other squads. "They seem to be doing okay, at least for their first week."

"Until the bickering breaks out," Alpha said, "then it devolves into what I've come to call the 'Domino Effect.'"

"Yes, they do fall apart rather quickly, don't they?"

Alpha grunted and crossed his arms, "See what I mean?"

Indeed she did. But she didn't have time to think on it further before someone cleared their throat behind them.

"Excuse me, Lieutenants," one of their clone students, an ARC trainee, addressed them.

"Yes, Riley?" Ja'dari turned around to face him, while Alpha didn't bother. She was generally considered the most approachable of the ARC instructors, anyway.

"I had some questions regarding Echani combat doctrine, ma'am. If you can spare the time."

Ja'dari nodded to her student, "Of course, just give me a minute." She turned back just in time to watch Domino Squad fall to simulated blaster bolts in rapid succession.

Alpha shook his head, "Like I said, Ja'dari. Not a single one of them."

"Stranger things have happened," she shrugged.

"Always the optimist," Alpha said dismissively.

"My people have a saying, Alpha," she patted the helmet she held at her side for emphasis. "'Verd ori'shya beskar'gam.' A warrior is more than his armor. Only time will tell if they amount to anything."

The alpha-ARC nodded once and grunted noncommittally. It was the best she was going to get out of him.

On their way down to their classrooms, she and Riley passed by Ninety-Nine, an old, decrepit clone from an earlier batch who served as a janitor of-sorts, no doubt on his way to clean up the training floor. Ja'dari felt a pang in her stomach at the reminder of what could happen to those clones if their armor proved to be too heavy. She quickly put it out of her mind. There wasn't anything she could do to help them.

Not now, at least.