The Dancing Guard of Mandalore: Masterpost until it's posted on Ao3
For those not already involved in the Time Traveling Dancing Guard of Mandalore. Here are the other peices. Jaster Meets Obi. Jaster Meets Obi pt 2. The drawing of Jaster carrying Obi. Boba and Obi 'Dance' (drawing). Satine and Obi dance young. Boba and Obi meet. The one that started it all: The Foundlings. Jango Fett. Jaster Mereel. Kal deals with ghost. Jaster and Henley chat. Kal and Obi mourn. Jaster, Jango, and Boba planning (former master post). Kal saves Obi. The Mand'alor, and Part 2. plot centric.
Time Travel. Mandolings find Obi. The Mand'alor pt 3. Celebration pt 1. Part 2: Sabine and Obi dance. Hot Springs. Henley's Buir and Guard (drawning). Obi gets a hug: Mandoling(drawing). Temple Guard and Jaster pointing (drawing). Quick Release (drawing). Sleeping on Duty (drawing, link to blurb). Satine, Obi, Jaster (drawing). Journeyman Protector (drawing). Kal'buir (drawing and blurb). Obi and The Daughter (drawing). Kal'buir Pt 1. Obi gets a Hug: Kal (drawing). Quin hugs Obi.(drawing) Obi/Kal (Drawing). Kal's first kiss. Metamorphosis (drawing). Obi's first kiss.
Walon finds Obi. Kal and Obi drunk. Kamino: Kal. Quinlan helps Obi find Peace. Kal and Walon (drawing). ObiKal post divorce. Obi and Coins(drawing). Obi in armor (drawing). Obi and Kal dance. ObiKal dance (drawing).
If I've missed one, check the reblogs. It will all show up on Ao3 eventually. Or check out @worm-strung-string for art and stuff related to the Time Traveling Temple Guard. I don't even know the order right now.
They mentioned the Skittle Squad. I had to cover all the armor colors. More random stuff. A Smoothie? Jaster saying FU while being carried away. Obi's 8 out of 99 problems. Mand'alor's circus act. Put it Back (i didn't know this one existed.). Drunk Obi with spoilers for Kal's story, a blurb. Are you mad at us? (drawing). What do you mean? (drawing).
1 of 2 animatic.. 2 of 2 animatic.. Fun art with music. Animatic: Earrings (coin).
Worm's writing and thoughts furthering the antics. kal&obi. Time travel stress. Porchlight. Memories Jaster meets Mandolings. Future decisions . ParentTrap . Obi's home . Obi vs Jaster viewpoint . Jango . Anakin and Maul about Obi .
The Kom'rk's ramp hit the landing pad with a hollow clang. Veyla adjusted the seal on her gauntlet, gave her blaster a casual spin, and barked over her shoulder:
"Line up, womp rats. And remember—shut your mouths. If anyone asks, you're mine. My foundlings. Got it?"
The six pairs of eyes staring back told her they did not get it. Tiva crossed her arms like she was running the show, Kale scowled so hard his face might crack, and little Sira clung to Do-ro's leg like he was a tree trunk.
"Good," Veyla muttered, even though they hadn't answered. "Try to look mean. Or at least less pathetic."
The doors of Cid's parlor slid open to the usual haze of stale ale and grease. The air was thick with the low murmur of voices, the clink of glasses, and the faint smell of fried nuna wings.
At a corner table sat four clones in mismatched armor, instantly recognizable to her trained eye—even if she hadn't seen their faces. Scarred leader. Towering bruiser. Cyborg with a permanent scowl. The one tinkering with his datapad like he was married to it.
And the kid.
A tiny blonde girl perched between them, wide-eyed and curious. A child. With clones.
Her younglings noticed immediately. Kale went stiff as a vibroblade, rage sparking behind his eyes. Tiva's jaw clenched, her gaze locked on the group with a suspicion Veyla almost admired.
"They're clones," Kale hissed under his breath, his voice laced with venom.
"Not like the others," Do-ro murmured, but the way his throat vibrated betrayed his unease.
Omega leaned forward, watching them with unabashed curiosity. "Hunter—look."
Veyla didn't spare them more than a glance. She had bigger prey.
She stomped up to the bar, plating on her boots clattering against the floor. "Cid. Still uglier than a mynock's backside."
The Trandoshan swiveled around on her stool, a glass of something swamp-colored in her claws. Her smirk split wide. "Well, if it isn't the walking migraine herself. Thought I smelled trouble."
Veyla leaned one elbow on the bar, casual as a queen on her throne. "Don't sound so happy to see me, old friend."
"Happy?" Cid barked a laugh. "Sweetheart, the most peaceful time of my life was when you vanished off the face of the galaxy. Haven't slept better in years."
"Peaceful, huh?" Veyla let her voice drip sarcasm. "Yeah, you look it. Still running a sleazy bar on the armpit of Ord Mantell. Big upgrade."
Cid narrowed her eyes. "At least I don't drag half the sector's problems in my wake every time I walk through a door."
"Funny," Veyla said, leaning closer. "Because the last time I was here, I recall introducing you to the Jedi. Got you your cushy little gig as their pet informant. Without me, you'd still be hustling sabacc games and watering down spotchka."
Cid slammed her glass down hard enough to slosh. "Would've been better off if you hadn't. Jedi connections brought me nothing but grief."
Veyla spread her arms, feigning innocence. "Aw, don't tell me you're not grateful."
Behind her, the Batch had tensed. Hunter's hand hovered near his knife. Echo's eyes tracked her every move. Wrecker leaned forward, knuckles drumming on the table, itching for a brawl. Tech didn't even look up from his datapad, but his jaw was tight.
The younglings clung close, glaring at the clones. Bren edged protectively in front of Sira. Tiva's eyes flicked between Cid and the men in the corner, calculating.
Cid gestured at the kids. "And what in blazes is this? Don't tell me you're dragging Jedi womp rats through my place."
The room chilled.
Veyla scoffed so hard it rattled her helmet's vocoder. "Jedi? These little gremlins? Please. Just strays I scooped up. Half-feral foundlings. Wouldn't know a lightsaber from a vibrospoon."
But Cid's grin went predator-sharp. "Funny. Because if you take a stroll over to my bounty board, I think you'll see a different story."
Veyla stilled. Her gauntlet flexed, a subtle creak of leather and durasteel. "...What did you say?"
Cid just sipped her drink, smug as a Hutt.
Slowly, Veyla turned. The holoboard flickered in the smoky light, casting blue shadows across the room. She scanned the listings until her visor froze.
Her name. Clear as day. With a price tag that could buy a small moon.
And underneath, the line that made her gut twist even under beskar:
"Wanted for harboring six Jedi younglings. Extreme caution advised."
Silence stretched thin as a tripwire.
Her hand slid toward her blaster, slow but certain.
The kids felt it. They knew. Tiva's breath caught, panic sparking in the Force like static.
"Veyla, wait—"
Zzzzap!
The blaster screamed, searing a bolt through the air. It scorched the wall centimeters from Cid's head, vaporizing a chunk of plaster. Cid ducked with a hiss.
The parlor exploded.
Hunter was on his feet in an instant, knife flashing in his hand. Echo's rifle snapped up, locked on her helmet. Wrecker roared, knocking over a table as he surged forward. Tech shoved Omega behind cover, already calculating escape routes.
The younglings scattered like spooked tookas, Bren yanking Sira behind him while Kale snarled, fingers twitching for the saber he no longer had. Tiva shoved her hands out instinctively, the Force still humming from the shove she'd given Veyla's arm a second earlier.
"Stand down!" Hunter barked.
Veyla whirled, blaster still raised, voice like a vibroblade. "That Trandoshan snake is about to sell us out! She's always played both sides since long before the war started—you think she won't hand you over too?"
Echo's voice cut like ice. "Looks like you're the problem here."
"Oh, bite me, Cyborg." Veyla snapped back.
Cid's voice shrieked from behind the bar. "You're bringing too much heat into my joint! Empire's already sniffing around, and you just painted a target on all of us!"
"You did that the second you plastered me and mine on that board!" Veyla roared.
A slam of a door. Cid bolted for her office, locking it tight.
Coward.
The room fell into a standoff—Batch on one side, Veyla and her ragtag foundlings on the other. Six kids huddled behind her, every one of them trembling, glaring, or near tears.
Veyla's voice dropped, low and deadly. "She's calling the Empire right now. And when they get here, they'll come for all of us. Jedi. Clones. Foundlings. Doesn't matter. We either move, or we burn."
Hunter's knife glinted in the low light. He studied her through narrowed eyes, every muscle wound tight.
And then, with a curt nod, he said, "Then we'd better move."
⸻
The parlor erupted into bedlam. Chairs overturned, tables splintered, and blaster bolts seared the air. The Batch moved like a unit: Hunter snapping orders, Wrecker barreling toward the entrance like a battering ram, Tech ducking Omega behind cover, Echo's calm voice crackling over comms as he mapped enemy positions and relayed firing arcs.
The instant the office door slammed shut, Veyla's visor flared crimson. She didn't wait for orders. She bolted for the Kom'rk, six younglings scrambling in her wake like startled mynocks, her boots pounding the gravel with lethal rhythm.
"Stay close, little womp rats, or you'll end up star fodder!" she barked, not looking back.
"Where are we going?!" Kale shouted, nearly tripping as Tiva yanked him upright.
"Out," Veyla snapped. "And fast. Cid's calling in the Empire—don't tell me you think that slimy snake wouldn't sell us out the second she smelled a profit."
On the comms, Echo's voice cut in. Calm. Efficient. Deadly.
"Imperial patrol—small strike contingent. Fast movers, cutting in from the north and east streets."
"Perfect," Veyla growled, picking up speed.
The younglings scrambled to keep pace. Tiva pulled to the front, sharp-eyed and already counting exits. Bren hovered close to Sira, his toolkit clutched like a weapon. Do-ro lumbered alongside, humming low and steady to calm the toddler clinging to his robe. Kale muttered curses under his breath, fists clenched. Chik darted nervously between them all, clicking in Rodese, his Basic failing under the pressure.
Blaster fire snapped overhead. Two Imperial speeders tore down the narrow street, scattering civilians. Smoke curled from overturned stalls, panic bleeding into every shout and scream.
"Batch, cover the kids!" Hunter's voice cut sharp through the chaos. "Keep them safe!"
"On it!" Wrecker roared, ripping a scout droid from the wall and smashing it underfoot. Tech barked warnings as he dragged Omega behind a stack of crates. Echo's detonators burst overhead, cutting a brief path of fire and smoke.
Veyla didn't waste a second. She hit the Kom'rk's ramp controls, the door slamming down with a hydraulic whine. "Get in, all of you! Now!"
The kids bolted aboard. Tiva shoved Kale ahead of her. Bren all but carried Sira. Do-ro brought up the rear, nudging Chik along when he froze on the threshold.
Veyla slapped the ramp control, sealing them in. She vaulted into the cockpit, hands gripping the controls like a predator gripping prey. The Kom'rk screamed to life, engines flaring, hull shuddering under fire.
Blaster bolts pinged across the plating as she shoved the throttle forward. The ship clawed for altitude, weaving through rooftops, thrusters whining under the strain.
That's when she felt a tug on her gauntlet.
Veyla glanced down, visor catching wide brown eyes staring up at her. A blonde girl, tiny but steady, clung to her arm as though she belonged there.
"What the—?" Veyla blinked. "Who in the void are you? You're not one of mine."
Omega blinked innocently, still clutching onto her.
Veyla swore, checking the cargo bay through her HUD. Six kids. All present. Tiva, Bren, Do-ro, Kale, Sira... but where was—
Her stomach dropped.
The Rodian was gone.
Instead, this tiny blonde clone-child was staring at her like she was supposed to be there.
Veyla slammed a fist against the console. "What in the nine hells? I had him! I had my little Rodian, and now I've got—you!" She jabbed a finger at Omega. "You're not mine!"
Omega tilted her head. "I'm Omega."
"Congratulations, you've got a name," Veyla snapped. "Now where's my Rodian?"
⸻
Across hyperspace, the Batch had already noticed. Chik crouched near Tech, babbling in hurried Rodese. Tech answered fluently, calming him down as he translated for the others.
"He says he was following the group when he got swept onto our ramp. He's unharmed, just... confused."
Wrecker grinned, protective hand resting on the kid's shoulder. "Guess we got your Rodian, Veyla."
Veyla's visor flared red. "Trade later? Trade?!" Her voice thundered through the comms. "I should blow something up right now!"
Hunter's reply was calm, steady, unshakable. "Survival first, Rynn. We leave the system. Then we sort the kids."
Veyla ground her teeth, every muscle in her jaw tight. "...Fine. But if anything happens to him before I get my hands on him, I will hunt you all down."
Omega giggled quietly from her seat, tugging at Veyla's gauntlet again. "You sound like Wrecker."
Veyla growled. "Don't compare me to that man-child, tiny clone. And stop laughing."
⸻
In the hold, the foundlings reacted in their own ways.
Tiva scanned the ship, already making a plan of escape if needed.
Kale sat stiffly, fury simmering under his skin.
Bren fiddled with his toolkit, knuckles pale.
Do-ro hummed, rocking Sira gently until her sobs softened.
Chik... was somewhere else entirely, clinging to strangers in black armor and muttering in a tongue only one of them understood.
Veyla turned in her chair, voice booming through the cockpit. "Listen up! You're alive because I'm better than the bastards trying to kill us. You don't have to like it, you don't have to thank me, but you do what I say if you want to stay alive. Clear?"
A nervous chorus of "yes" followed, Tiva's sharper than the rest.
Veyla leaned back, teeth bared in a manic grin under her helmet. "Good. Because gods help anyone who tries to touch my foundlings. Even if..." Her gaze flicked briefly to Omega. "...some of them aren't technically mine right now."
On the comms, Hunter exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Just survive, Mandalorian. We'll figure out the rest after."
Veyla's laugh rang harsh through the cockpit, steel and smoke. "Surviving's the one thing I do better than anyone, Clone. You can count on that."
The stars stretched into hyperspace, two ships hurtling toward safety, carrying the wrong kids—and a problem neither side could ignore.
Despite beliefs parents, spouses, and children are allowed to see your face
Medics, of course, are allowed. However, they don’t unless absolutely necessary and will prefer they just have lift the edge of their helmet
None of the Nite Owls really know this because, to the tribe, it’s not important or necessary to voice as it was their business
When babies are first taken in or borne, the parents are very secluded so they can spend as much time with their children out of armor (includes helmet as those taking care of the baby, found/birthed the baby and therefore adopt the baby), skin to skin
When it comes to babies, the adoption process is more so 'i found a baby and now i am their parent in every way' no real adoption like with the older kids since the babies won't remember
The adoption rites are still said, just much less fanfair than with the older kids
This is also true for any new foundlings that need the contact, true for all ages though not a requirement
For babies, this period lasts about 8 months, then when out either parent is with the child without chest armor which lasts until they’re about 16 months
When children come to the tribe, they have little with them so what they do have is kept safe and in tip top shape
When they first arrive, foundlings are given essentially a deep clean by those that found them (they usually become their parent)
This includes getting their clothes washed, washing their hair twice (sometimes three) times, skin is scrubbed, lotion, and clothed in spares, and finally put to bed
Sometimes the kids come with pets (though very rare) and those are given similar treatment depending on the species
All in all, the Watch has the three shriek hawks, two nexu, eight massiffs (coming from two adults so far), three strill, and four anooba
Ragnar came in with a baby strill named Lord (he tried to change the name but no dice)
Lord was bathed after Ragnar, then deflea’ed and dewormed by the medic
Lord has been adopted by all foundlings and has taken the role of Guard dog, including all the commands and mannerisms that come with (though a sucker for belly rubs)
Bathing is important for bonding as it establishes trust and safety for the child, showing that the parent will always love and protect their foundlings no matter what state (mental or physical) they are in
Ragnar is the oldest of the younger group and took on the leader role
There are older teens who’ve completed the verd’goten and are considered adults but mostly teach youngers' kids
The teenagers oppose the Nite Owls the most and, while the most inexperienced of the adults, enjoy causing the most trouble with their youngest
The Nite Owls don’t have nearly as many young foundlings, their youngest is 15. The Children of the Watch youngest of the adults was 14, their actual youngest is 10 months old.
Younger groups age is from 0-13, then 14-20
The youngest enjoyed the new addition to their older siblings they could annoy; especially since the new teens had no idea what to do with them
Many times the kids will be all over the them. The moment they sit down, they have two children climbing on them (hanging over their legs, grabbing their head or arms, laying over their back, on their feet) but otherwise totally ignoring them unless addressed
The Nite Owls either have no idea what to do or don’t care enough about the tribe to care. The adults of the Tribe think it’s hilarious and that it builds character
They’re reasoning is that ‘if you don’t have the spine to tell them to get off of you, you don’t have a spine at all’
Eventually a nineteen year old takes a kid climbing over his face and throws him to the floor, and yells ‘get the hell off me you leeches!’
The child laughs, yanks his leg out from under him, climbs over to their face, slaps their cheek mockingly and says ‘bout time you grew a spine, grew a set of balls too! Congrats! You're no longer a spineless worm!'
The nineteen year old is then quasi adopted by this weird child and secretly enjoys it
A surprising amount of young Watch children quasi adopt the older kids from the Nite Owls, the Owls are confused and don’t really know how to stop it and those who have tried are told to stop by their teens
The peace between the two groups is actually pretty stable in day to day life
Though, some Owls still take issue with the Watch and avoid them, that number is few
After Paz and Axe become riduur, there is even less tolerance by either group for those people so many keep their negative opinions to themselves
Another factor is their pets
Obvi, the Tribe has so many pets and animals that are very well taken care of. Surprisingly, the Owls also have a few pets (but again not as much as the tribe)
The animals each have their roles and enjoy getting pets from literally anyone. Though, most will only respond to attack/work commands coming from a certain few people
Many of the massiffs will lay around and cuddle with the youngest of the children, though a majority only listen to the Beastmaster and her two apprentices
However, with each new litter, half of the pups are given to those couples with the youngest or most vulnerable children
All of the animals are incredibly well trained and well behaved, with even the biggest and most dangerous Anooba still fully trusted around babies (the only outlier being the bird things)
Many of the animals are purchased/found as babies since they respond the best to training
When the Nite Owls animals meet the Tribe's animals, it goes well
Though the Owl's are a little older and calmer, generally receptive to children and people playing with them but prefer to lay around and sun bathe
The Nite Owls' have one strill, three akk dogs, one massiff, and two anooba.
The pets are loved by all the young children and spend a lot of time around the younger kids, due to instincts or the fact the kids come to them
the Owls don't have a Beastmaster like the Tribe and so their animals are used to being more separate and with their owner than hanging around so many different people and animals
they also aren't used to working in a herd but many choose to just keep their animals with them rather than the group
Though, the owner of the massiff (who is about 22 year old female) does keep it with the other massiff and gives open permission to use it to help with breeding new puppies when the time comes
All the aminals in both groups only know Mando'a commands, though they know 'good *insert pet name/gender*' and stuff like that
(whether they know that or they just go wild for the pets, no one will ever know)
I'm just loving the way the adults are interacting with the Littles. Several are obviously family, with how close they stand. But absolutely nothings beats seeing those adult buyce tilted down to look at those little buyce.
Early Mandalorian culture, originating with the ancient Taung species, was believed to have begun as a religious warrior society, War was practiced as a form of ritual worship to their multiple gods and because of this, many of the Mandalorians' earliest conflicts were seen as holy wars and their warriors known as the Mandalorian Crusaders.
After the Great Sith war where most of the Taung had perished , the Mandalorians began accepting beings of other races and species into their culture and transforming what it meant to be a Mandalorian. Those who considered themselves Mandalorian were bound by a single, unifying culture rather than any one race, and they believed that an individual was defined by their actions rather than the circumstances of birth.
Resol'nare
Young Mandalorian children were taught a rhyme to help them learn the tenets of the Resol'nare (basic: six actions) These six tenets defined what it meant to be a Mandalorian, and any who wished to be considered as such was expected to follow them.
Ba'jur, beskar'gam, (Education and armor)
Ara'nov, aliit, (Self-defense, our tribe)
Mando'a bal Mand'alor — (Our language, our leader)
An vencuyan mhi. (All help us survive.)
This code is self-perpetuating and was directly responsible for ensuring the survival of the Mandalorian culture and society.
Wearing the armor (beskar'gam or ''iron skin'')
Once Mandalorians reach adulthood, they assemble a suit of armor that suits their needs and skills. It is both a tool and a symbol of their cultural identity. Aside from its defensive capabilities, armor served another function: in a group formed from so many different species, often times it was only the armor that displayed an outward sign of the culture that bound these individuals together. The paint scheme of a Mandalorian's armor occasionally represented a soldier's state of mind, or their personal mission.
As many soldiers preferred the inconspicuousness afforded by camouflage, Mandalorians believed in the saying:
"It's one thing to see us coming, it's another to do something about it."
Speaking the language (Mando'a)
While most Mandalorians know and speak Basic and other languages, all are raised speaking Mando'a, the language of the Taungs. When among themselves, they speak Mando'a almost exclusively. The language itself is very fluid and simple, reflecting the culture of which it is a part, and like the culture, it has changed very little over the centuries.
Mando'a was often thought of as easy to learn, a trait highly desirable in a culture that regularly adopted adults from numerous races and species. But there were difference speaker of Basic had to adjust, including Mando'a's expression of tense, and its gender-neutrality.
It was not unheard for Mandalorians to speak other languages such as Huttese and Basic alongside Mandalorian as it was necessary to communicate with others when working as a mercenary or bounty hunter.
Defending oneself and the family
While the Mandalorians are best known as a warrior culture, they are also strongly family oriented. Each member of a family is expected to protect the others, garaunteeing their survival and through this, ensuring the survival of the clan and culture.
Adoption was extremely common in Mandalorian culture, to the point where even adults could be adopted. Because of the Mandalorians' constant connection to war, widows and orphans became an inescapable fact of life.
Contribute to clans welfare
Each individual and family is expected to contribute to the welfare and prosperity of their clan, which in turn helps provide for the family and individual as needed. This act is far from the socialist prop it first seems, as it is a neccessity for a society that spends a great deal of its time at war to provide for such neccessities as food, shelter and manufactured goods when a large number of a clan's adults are on other worlds fighting.
Raise children as Mandalorians
It is a Mandalorian's responsibility to raise children in the traditions of their culture. However this is not simply an imperative to breed, as it might seem on the surface. Mandalorians often adopt their children, caring very little for blood lineage and bowing to the neccessities created by their lifestyles as nomadic warriors. This act is a mandate to perpetuate the culture, as are the majority of the Six Acts, by passing it down to both offspring and adopted war orphans.
Rally to the cause of the Mand’alor
While the social structure of the Mandalorians is very simple, revolving around family and clan, each clan and family answering to itself, in times of war all families and clans are expected to answer a call to war by the Mand'alor, the leader of the Mandalorian people.
The old and the new way.
In order to retain their heritage in the face of outside influence, Mandalorians placed a high value on rigorously carrying out the Resol'nare's tenets in a daily manner. However, interpretation of the Resol'nare differed, and at least one group of Mandalorians, the New Mandalorians, potentially followed an alternate interpretation of the Resol'nare by doing away with personally-owned sets of armor and refusing to aid the Mand'alor.
The New Mandalorians was the pacifist movement who placed great importance on the virtues of pacifism, neutrality, and nonviolence rather than martial prowess and military strength as the Old Mandalorians did. They were led by a Duchess of Mandalore up until its dissolution following the coup in 19 BBY.
Similar to Death Watch, the Old Mandalorians were exiled from Mandalore, but unlike their Death Watch counterparts, did not seek vengeance on the New Mandalorians. Instead, the Old Mandalorians resettled in other parts of the galaxy and worked for the highest bidder, maintaining their Mandalorian warrior heritage as bounty hunters, mercenaries and other professions.
"Here's why you can't exterminate us, aruetii. We're not huddled in one place—we span the galaxy. We need no lords or leaders—so you can't destroy our command. We can live without technology—so we can fight with our bare hands. We have no species or bloodline—so we can rebuild our ranks with others who want to join us. We're more than just a people or an army, aruetii. We're a culture. We're an idea. And you can't kill ideas—but we can certainly kill you."
Where most of the Jedi survive order 66 because the Mandalorians get a heads up about order 66 and decides to adopt the Jedi. It starts off with just wanting to adopt the younglings. Then it escalates to adopting the padawans and the younglings, then the knights, then they wanted to adopt the masters for some reason, and you can't forget to adopt the temple guards, so before they know it they've adopted the entire Jedi order. The Mandalorians' adoption senses just keep on increasing and become stronger during order 66. It ends up becoming a competition to see who can adopt the most amount of Jedi. So the temple still looks the same with it being on fire, but there is a huge swam of Mandalorians coming in to surprise adopt a jedi, then coming out with as many jedi as they can carry. Yes they really did adopt Master Yoda.
Or
The Kaminioans had a feeling that Palpatine was going to betray them, so instead of the inhibitor chips making the clones kill the jedi, it gives a strong boost to their Mandalorian instinct to adopt, so basically they adopt the jedi instead of killing them. So when order 66 is issued they adopt the first jedi they see. Obi wan was confused when his men started to shout "adopt the jedi", then even more confused when he is called a foundling.
Or if both scenarios are happening at once, it could be a competition between the clones and the Mandalorians to see who can adopt the most amount of jedi. The bad batch also joins in, they are confused as to why Crosshair wants to adopt the padawan so bad, but they decide to adopt the padawan too, Caleb Dume is now their son, Omega gets a space wizard brother and is happy that they too got a jedi. Depa got adopted by her squad.
Palpatine is confused and is fuming. He has even more trouble in the senate because the senators want to adopt the jedi too, where's their space wizard? They want one too! Then it gets even more problematic because republic citizens also want to adopt jedi. Instead of order 66 being called the purge, it was called the great adoption. Also Padme doesn't die.
