Inside one of the royal palace's dojos, Max could be seen sparring against several men dressed in white training uniforms, their belts ranging from brown to black, while others with green or blue belts watched attentively from the sidelines.
In the center of the tatami stood Max, surrounded by three opponents. When facing multiple adversaries with no way to retreat, the priority is always awareness—maintaining visual contact with everyone, keeping your distance, and never losing balance.
The first of the three lunged forward, striking with a high guard and a straight punch. Max pivoted smoothly on his foot, dodging the blow and redirecting it with a light forearm push, causing the attacker to stumble into another who was mid-kick. As the second attacker's leg rose, Max lowered his center of gravity, turned, and clashed his forearm against the man's shin, diverting it. With his other hand, he delivered a gunting strike to the bicep—right on the nerve—eliciting a pained grunt and rendering the opponent's arm useless.
The last man had been waiting for an opening. He moved in from behind, attempting to wrap an arm around Max's neck. But with a quick side step and a shift in posture, Max caught the man's forearm, twisted his wrist, and redirected his entire body, sending him crashing into the previous opponent who was still struggling to recover. Both fell entangled on the mat.
The first man charged once more, but Max intercepted the attack—blocking the strike, driving his knee into the man's abdomen to knock the air out of him, and finishing with a downward elbow to the shoulder that forced him to his knees.
Seeing his three opponents incapacitated, Max relaxed his stance—signaling the end of the match—while the spectators applauded.
"Anyone can face multiple opponents, especially if they're weaker than you. Keep training."
Max's POV
After finishing today's session, I left the dojo behind, letting the sounds of sparring fade as I made my way to my office—state matters awaited me, as always. On my way, I passed the palace staff in charge of cleaning and maintenance.
Lately, my routine hasn't varied much: train to maintain my conditioning, oversee the state of my territories, secure our borders, eliminate the pests inside my granary—metaphorically and literally.
Upon entering my office, I was greeted by a mountain of datapads and holochips stacked on my desk—reports containing key information about ammunition and weapons production.
In the short term, weapon manufacturing is certainly profitable, but with the technology available in this galaxy, we can produce far more, far faster. If on Earth a single production line yielded roughly 1.225 billion rounds of 5.56mm ammunition per day, our automation systems now produce three times that amount—around 3.672 billion rounds daily. And that's just one example.
Despite possessing such technology, our focus remains on modernizing essential equipment. For that reason, I've hired some of the finest minds to develop components of a much larger, more complex system—one that only my scientific corps has the expertise to assemble in its entirety.
On the naval front, little has changed. Improvements continue, but ship construction remains our main priority.
As for Walex Blissex, after designing the V-Wing, he's taken an interest in adapting atmospheric starfighters and bombers for space use. He's also assumed the role of instructor for new recruits in the aeronautics division, splitting his time between his office and his home with his wife.
At the start of the Clone Wars, the Republic possessed roughly 500 Acclamator-class assault ships across the galaxy. It wasn't until a year later that the Venator-class entered service as a response to the Separatists' newer designs—the Providence and Recusant classes—both vastly superior to the Republic's cruisers.
As for our own forces, we currently field 10 Dreadnought-class heavy cruisers, 4 Lucrehulk-class battleships, 56 Unity-class (Terminus-class Star Destroyers) and 24 Legacy-class Star Destroyers
That totals 94 active warships, and when corvettes and smaller craft are included, the number rises to around 174 operational vessels—not even two-fifths of the Republic's fleet, not to mention the Separatists' vast number of converted commercial ships.
This imbalance worries me. Our ships are stronger and better armed, yes—but numerically, we're vastly outnumbered by both sides. As a result, I've increased pay and recruitment across our shipyard worlds, where droids and organics alike work tirelessly to close the gap before the conflict erupts in 22 BBY. For now, we are in 24 BBY.
One advantage we hold is the secrecy of our world's location. Still, planets such as Naboo and Bespin remain under constant surveillance—especially the latter, after the recent incident.
Militarily speaking, at the Battle of Geonosis, about 200,000 clone troopers fought against 1.2 million battle droids. Those numbers may not seem overwhelming, but Kamino still held another million ready for deployment, while the Separatists continue to produce droids by the millions in factories across the galaxy.
Currently, over 3.4 million soldiers are active across all worlds under my control—and that number keeps growing. Tanks, transports, artillery—every unit trained under standardized regimens. However, barely half of those troops have seen real combat, whether against pirates, insurgents, or native resistance on occupied worlds.
'So much to do, and so little time to do it,' I thought to myself as two incoming calls interrupted my work—one from within the palace, the other from Bespin.
Prioritizing external matters, I took the call from Bespin. The hologram of Rear Admiral Smith, a native of Earth-1's Commonwealth, appeared before me. A talented naval officer and subordinate of Ann.
"My lord, as instructed, Bespin's garrison has been reinforced with 200,000 ground troops, and the support ships have arrived as scheduled. We currently maintain three Legacy-class Star Destroyers, eight Unity-class (Terminus) destroyers, and fifteen Crusader-class corvettes to safeguard the planet and its people, per your directives—especially after the recent incident."
"Excellent. Proceed as planned and ensure the convoys remain on schedule. We can't afford further trouble with the Republic."
"Understood."
The transmission ended. Immediately, I answered the second call—from Candara. Her message was brief and direct.
"My lord, Miss Assajj has completed the first two phases of her training. As promised, the final stage will be under your supervision."
"Very good news, Candara. Just one question—on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate her performance so far?"
"Without a doubt, a nine. If you had no plans for her, I would gladly take her as my personal apprentice."
"Indeed. A pity I already have other plans for her. Tell her to report to my personal dojo tomorrow—and prepare the equipment."
"As you command."
The transmission ended.
Very well, my dear Assajj… I hope you don't disappoint me in this final stage of your training.