Mandalorian Unmasked Novels & Stories

He pulled his secure comm pad from his wrist guard and punched in Freda’s emergency code. The Jimenez heir accepted the transmission immediately, logging a set of coordinates for a neutral lounge in the lower commercial district before severing the link. Ronan donned a heavy combat mask to conceal his rank and navigated his interceptor to the designated sector. Freda was already stationed in a secure booth, her frame wrapped in a soft, light-toned silk tunic, her hair pinned back with delicate silver combs that completely contradicted her usual combat profile.

The rider passed casually in front of Ki Randu Alas and the others, then stopped directly in front of Wisnumurti, who had already braced himself for a fight. Only then could they see the rider’s face clearly. Something about it looked wrong. There was no expression. No visible emotion. Then they realized why. He was wearing a wooden mask painted milky white with chalk. “Jaladri.” The name hit him like a physical blow. Jaladri shuddered. Every eye turned toward him. “Tonight, your lesson ends.” The masked man’s voice was cold. “Your name is Kartika Wuni, means the Hidden Star”

"The Monadikos are preparing to strike. But it’s more than that. Adrian has uncovered the full truth behind his parents’ empire. He possesses the weapon blueprints. If this is true, he holds more power than any of us anticipated." Alvarez chuckled, a sound devoid of humor. "The Monadikos are fools. Let them believe they are leading the charge. We have already infiltrated Adrian’s organization. We know his security patterns, his vulnerabilities. We let them make their move first. Let them bleed themselves dry. And when they think they’ve won… that’s when we will strike." The second-in-command hesitated. "And the Masked Men? They are not to be underestimated." Alvarez’s smile turned razor-shar

As it so turned out that Andrea wasn't the only one who knew so much about him. If she knew so much about him and she kept no secrets at all from him, then it would be unfair for him to continue to keep something as big as his own face from her. But as he was about to unstrap the masquerad mask from his face and just show her the person she was so in love with as she had told his mom, they shifted the topic. He didn't know how exactly, but they were now talking about the president of the Larson's group which was him.

“But master, if you leave now, what about your surgery? Rebel asked. “Postpone it; I’ll do it later. Was the surgery successful? He asked while walking to the mirror and standing in front of it. Rebel sighed. “Yeah, it was successful, Master; you won’t believe how unbelievably the result is until you see it with your own eyes.” Rebel suddenly got excited. The masked man paused. Suddenly, he raised his hand and pulled off the mask. A handsome yet faulty scar appeared in the mirror. He had a flawless face, beautiful eyes, long eyelashes, and thick eyebrows that put devilish handsomeness on his face. His pinkish lips were so kissable that any woman would fall for this face on the spot, but the

​​PNEUMATIC THERMAL JACKET: DISENGAGED. ​​VANGUARD_COMMANDER_01: ONLINE. ​The reinforced glass face of the pod didn't just slide open; it unsealed with a massive, booming release of pressurized cryogenic vapor that blanked out the room in a thick, white cloud of frost. ​Through the freezing mist, a massive silhouette—even broader and more heavily scarred than Julian's—slowly shifted inside the metal harness. Long, silver-streaked hair fell over a pair of massive shoulders that were wrapped in a pre-war, dark navy vanguard uniform, the chest plate covered in heavy, tarnished silver medals of a forgotten empire.

This was the very Milo who ranked first among the ten toughest people! He was the leader of Firebrand Base, a man who was said to have reduced his own base down to nothing but the last few survivors. When he heard Liam's voice, the man in the mask reached up and pulled off the black face cover. A tan, sun-darkened face appeared. Milo's face was lean, with a hint of foreign blood. His features were sharp and rugged, his brows heavy, his nose high and straight, and his eyes a clear amber color. Everything about him looked hard and unbreakable.

“Yes.” “And you believe him.” Elias nodded. Marcus didn’t argue. Instead, he asked quietly, “What happens when the mask comes off?” The question landed softly and stayed. Elias hadn’t thought that far. Or rather, he had, but only in fragments. Moments where the future blurred and he pushed the thought away before it could frighten him. “I don’t know,” Elias admitted. “But I know he’s afraid too.” “That doesn’t make him harmless,” Marcus said gently.

Pockmark Mask now. ***

“The famous Phantom.” Alexander’s eyes shifted toward Luna slowly. Not fear, not suspicion, just recognition. Now he was finally seeing it. The real her, the operative, the weapon, and the monster beneath the published executive exterior. The masked man continued casually. “You know, your replacement candidates were disappointing.” A shrug. “None of them survived training.” Luna’s heartbeat slowed. Dangerously calm now. Which was always a bad sign. “Who are you?” “You really don’t recognize me?” The man removed one glove slowly. A scar ran across his wrist. A burn mark shaped like a crescent moon.