"An inspection delegation?" Max froze for a second. "What are they inspecting?"
"Ah, it's nothing, nothing," Lord Figg said with a broad, careless wave. "Just a formality."
"On the civil-administration side, they mainly need to do two things. First is to investigate and confirm Bespin's population and territory…"
"Uh—" Max raised his hand. "My lord, sorry to cut in, but… are you sure our population meets the requirement?"
"It meets it, it meets it. No problem." Figg blinked, totally unworried. "It's just a formality—there aren't any hard numerical thresholds. As long as the delegation believes Bespin has enough people and territory to sustain an autonomous government, that's good enough."
"The delegation thinks that?" Max was still skeptical.
"Relax," Figg continued, waggling his eyebrows as he patted Max's shoulder. "It's all handled."
Seeing Max give him another thumbs-up, Killian Figg pressed on smugly. "Second, they'll supervise Bespin holding a full public referendum—make sure Bespin joining the Corellian Republic is a democratic choice by the people. So? No issues on Cloud City's end, right?"
"No issues. Absolutely no issues!" Max thumped his chest with the same confidence. "You took care of the big, nasty problems, my lord. This little thing—leave it to me and Williams. I guarantee nothing goes wrong."
As for the military delegation, Lord Figg didn't know the details. During his time working Coronet City, he'd made it clear: he would only negotiate politics and economics. Military matters would wait until Max got back.
Still, Figg said there was no need to worry about the military side either. Senator Leif Galamby—head of the civil delegation—had already coordinated with Figg; he said Admiral Berethron, head of the military delegation, was an old friend of his and easy to talk to, so Max and Figg shouldn't worry.
Hide their strength, show their muscles, or split the difference? Max still couldn't decide. Fortunately, the hyperspace lane from Corellia to Bespin was more than ten days—he could talk with Admiral Berethron and the others on the way, then decide.
That night's welcome banquet, Billy Williams went over with extreme solemnity and toasted Lord Figg round after round. In the past, he'd always thought this playboy was just a pretty face and an empty suit. This time, Figg's outstanding results genuinely forced him to reassess.
From mine director to prime minister of a member-state—Billy Williams was riding high. And he wasn't satisfied with that.
At the banquet, Max introduced Lisa to Lord Figg, and then repeated the same "Crazy Horse Club" plan he'd told Aayla Secura—this version, again, not mentioning the intelligence-station layer underneath. After he finished, Max leaned in to Figg's ear and dropped his voice.
"When the time comes—whether it's seasoned veterans with real experience and top-tier skills, or fresh faces just starting out, even girls who haven't stepped into the business yet; human, non-human; Twi'lek girls in every color under the suns; long legs, big—cough—anyway, whatever you're into… the club will 'coordinate' it for you. How's that?"
"Ahehehe—" Figg nearly drooled onto the floor.
"Good. Very good. Extremely good!"
Lord Figg praised the plan to the skies and immediately promised he'd dispatch the most senior professional team to train Lisa, aiming to have the Crazy Horse Club up and running by next spring.1
After the welcome banquet ended, Max received two important calls.
One was from the Intelligence Bureau.
"Reporting, boss: 'Jango' has been extracted. 'Pharaoh' has entered sleep. 'Unhappy' withdrew cleanly and is awaiting further instructions."1
"Beautiful work!"
"This is the Way."
"Bring 'Jango' to the company. After that, you return to base."
"Yes, boss."
The Silman envoy was important—no question—and also undeniably a hot potato. Max didn't yet know the best way to handle him. But fewer people knowing meant safer, that much was certain. Talk to him first, then decide. Worst case… ship him off to farm on Rishi, Max thought.
After ending the call, Max wasn't particularly happy. Instead, worry sat on his face. He didn't know whether ordering an assassination on Lom Pyke counted as a political assassination.
Political assassination… seemed like a very bad thing. That unit—aside from eliminating traitors—had never really engaged in political assassination, as if there were some taboo around it. They'd even had multiple chances to take out that bald man, and they still never pulled the trigger.1
Low-cost and highly efficient—why not use it? Max still hadn't fully figured out the logic. If one day he stood opposed to the Galactic Empire and had a chance to assassinate the Emperor… Max felt there was a very high chance he'd do it.10
The other call was from his mentor.
"I'm leaving."
"You're that bold?" Max was genuinely surprised.
"What are you talking about? I'm not sneaking out." Aayla realized he'd misunderstood. "After discussion, the Jedi High Council cleared me to go."
"That's insane." Max was even more shocked. "You actually convinced those old hardliners? Or did Master Ki-Adi-Mundi feel too awkward to flip sides?"
"What are you even saying?" Aayla was displeased by his flippancy. "The Force is my witness—I have nothing to hide. Once they investigated, of course they cleared me."
"Ah…" Max sighed dramatically, putting on a defeated look.
"What's with the sigh? What are you sighing for?" the Jedi woman asked.
"I just… really wish you did have something to hide."
Aayla Secura went silent for a moment before she said, "I'll arrive three days later. Try thinking fewer stupid thoughts—and don't be in such a hurry to fall to the dark side."
"I'll wait for you in Coronet City. We'll go together."
"No need." Aayla refused decisively.
"In my view, there's every need." Max cut her off. "Alright. That's that." He ended the call.
He checked the time—9 p.m. Still early. A thought sparked, and Max opened his comm again.
"Sein—prep the Kom'rk. I'm heading to the pad now."
He planned to go see how the Shmi couple were doing. With everything coming up, he'd probably be tied up with nonstop obligations and might not have the time later.
"Yes, Commander."
Anakin— I don't believe in destiny. I've already done all this… will you still walk the path of falling?4
On the way to the Shmi couple's little rural courtyard, Max unconsciously clenched his fist.
In this Star Wars galaxy… does "man can conquer fate" still hold true?1
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🛡️🔥🌌 STAR WARS: THE RISE OF MANDALORE 🌌🔥🛡️
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🚨 FOR MANDALORE! 🚨
The clans are stirring.
The armor remembers.
And Mandalore will rise again.
Star Wars: The Rise of Mandalore has 100+ chapters ahead available right now on Patreon! ⚔️🔥
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🛡️ THIS IS MORE THAN A STORY OF SURVIVAL
⚔️ Mandalorian warriors🔥 Clan warfare🚀 Galactic conflict🌌 Star Wars worldbuilding👑 Power & leadership💥 Massive battles🛡️ The resurgence of Mandalore
The galaxy has seen Mandalore shattered before.
But broken does not mean defeated.
🔥 A people forged in war can rise from the ashes.
And Patreon readers are already 100+ chapters ahead watching it happen.
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This is the way.
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