Galactic Standard Calendar Year 5 — March 16, Lessu, Ryloth.
"Cham Syndulla's people are vicious, lawless thugs." Senator Orn Free Taa clasped Max Vizsla's right hand with both of his, face full of worry. "For you to go in alone—no, two blades with only two men—this is far too dangerous."
"Ah, danger like this is nothing." Max waved it off with his left hand. "You've given everything for Ryloth—worked yourself to the bone—and there are still rabble who dare show you disrespect? Outrageous. I'm going to teach them a lesson to their faces and vent that anger for you. Chris—let's move!"
"Yes, Chief!"
"Lord Vizsla—please, be careful!" Orn Free Taa shouted and waved as the repulsor bikes sped off. The moment they were out of sight, he grinned like a man watching fireworks.
—
"Commander—due north, two fast-moving black dots closing in. They're slowing down. Two speeder bikes!" a lookout reported.
(So he really came. Bold.) Cham Syndulla answered calmly over comms, "Copy. All posts—keep eyes on, maintain perimeter."
"Yes, Commander."
"Come on." Cham stood and headed out first. "Let's greet our guest."
—
"Lord Vizsla—Free Ryloth welcomes you." Cham strode forward and offered his hand to the Mandalorian who had just swung off his bike. "I'm Cham Syndulla. Your courage earns my respect."
"Courage? What courage?" Max gripped Cham's hand firmly.
Cham chuckled. "Unless Senator Orn Free Taa forgot to paint us as savage monsters?"
"And even if he did?" Max asked.
The smile died on Cham's face.
The Mandalorian's handshake tightened—slowly, steadily, like a clamp ratcheting down. Cham lifted his left hand, about to signal.
Around them, the Free Ryloth fighters tensed. Hands drifted toward holsters.
"Mr. Syndulla," Max said evenly, still increasing pressure by the heartbeat, "if I were you, I wouldn't make any sudden moves. An EE-3 carbine at point-blank might leave a neat scar on my helmet. Two hundred meters out? Your sniper won't even scratch the coating."
Cham kept his expression under control, trying not to give ground—but his jaw was locked so hard he couldn't speak.
Max continued, unhurried. "I can tell you don't like someone squeezing your hand. I don't like someone aiming a rifle at my head. I'll count to three. If your sniper doesn't shift his muzzle, I'll crush your right hand."
"Salenko. Ilin. Vasili. Lyudmila." Before Max could even start counting—and before Cham could respond—Gobi Glie barked into the comm. "Weapons down."
He didn't know the Mandalorian in front of them. But he knew his commander: Cham Syndulla would rather have his hand shattered than bow.
"Good." Max released the grip. He removed his helmet, stepped forward, and offered his hand to Gobi. "Mr. Gobi Glie."
"Lord Vizsla." Gobi shook his hand. "Taking off your helmet this early—aren't you afraid we'll try something else?"
Max gave a small nod.
Then his left forearm snapped—whistling darts launching in a clean burst. Ten blurrgs in a nearby pen dropped in a row, collapsing to the ground.
The Free Ryloth fighters froze.
"Nobody move!" Cham shouted first this time.
"Third time's the limit." Max released Gobi's hand. "One more threat—and there's no point continuing this conversation."
"Go deal with the blurrgs," Cham ordered. "Pick the best cuts for lunch. Smoke the rest and store it."
And like the cheesiest story cliché, friendship started the way it often did in the Outer Rim—by almost tearing each other's throats out.
—
Inside Free Ryloth's Reserve Base Three, Max got straight to it.
"Your doctrine is basically: if the enemy opposes it, you support it; if the enemy supports it, you oppose it. Fair summary?"
"Fair." Cham nodded. "That's how we fight."
"Good. Same here." Max paused. "But before that—you have to be clear on who the enemy is, and who the friend is. Agreed?"
Cham shook his head, amused.
"Lord Vizsla. Senator Orn Free Taa might be your friend. He is not ours."
"Mr. Syndulla, I can guarantee you this: when it comes to holding this recruitment fair, the senator is not your enemy."
"Guarantee?" Cham's eyes narrowed. "How?"
"Send your people." Max's voice stayed calm. "Your fighters' families, if you want. Even your fighters themselves. Let them attend the fair. Let them act as observers—monitor the event, and then continue monitoring Figg Mining's Bespin facility afterward."
"Lord Vizsla, I can't just take you at your word," Cham said bluntly. "I'm worried you'll detain my people as hostages, then come back and leverage them against us."
"That's too much work." Max shook his head. "If I wanted your unit as an enemy, I could kill all of you right now. Thirty-seven people. Two minutes."
"Killing us wouldn't solve anything." Cham didn't flinch. "As long as Ryloth's people are still crushed under oppression, Free Ryloth will keep rising—one wave after another."
"Then tell me—who is oppressing Ryloth? Senator Orn Free Taa?"
"Who else?" Cham shot back.
"Maybe he is." Max let a faint smile show, then wiped it away and went serious again. "But he wouldn't rank near the top. Orn Free Taa is a corrupt thief—nothing more. And even while he lines his own pockets, as long as it doesn't threaten his personal interests, he'll still put effort into doing something that looks like 'helping Ryloth'—like this recruitment fair."
"In my view, the senator is a potential friend—someone Free Ryloth should try to win over."
"Lord Vizsla," Cham raised a finger sharply, "Ryloth decides who Ryloth's enemies are. We know better than you ever will. Scum like Orn Free Taa will be judged."
"And what if there's an enemy worse than him?" Max asked.
Cham shook his head, certain. "I don't think there is."
"Mr. Syndulla—when you're inside the storm, you can't see the sky." Max's tone hardened. "Black Sun. That is the enemy far worse than the senator."
—
PS: In canon, "Free Ryloth" is usually used for the anti-Imperial resistance Cham leads after the Empire rises. The name of Cham's late-Republic anti-government resistance isn't specified in the setting, so the author uses "Free Ryloth" earlier for simplicity.
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