His armor gleamed under the suns, yet the reflection it cast was one of a man torn. The mantle of Mand'alor had never been easy to wear, but the pressure was mounting in ways he had not anticipated. His advisors had convened in hushed circles, their murmurs growing louder with each passing day. The council had reached a consensus: Jango needed to marry. It was not merely a matter of personal happiness; it was a political necessity, a move that would solidify his rule and strengthen alliances among the clans

He had come to do a job, as he always did; but this time, the job was different. He was not just here to hunt or collect a bounty. He had been summoned by the ruling council, and the weight of their expectations settled heavily on his shoulder.

Jango had never considered himself a man for such entanglements. His life was defined by freedom, by the thrill of the chase, and the exhilaration of living on his own terms. Yet, here he was, a pawn in a game of politics that he had no desire to play.

As he entered the chamber, he was greeted by many people. The same as the one welcomed with the sight of the candidates the advisors choosed for this meeting.