Tales of the Mandalorians

[Dieter Schprokets]

Mandalore Bishop sat next to the hospital bed, and waited for the man in it to come to.

When he did, he spoke tersely.

"Little soon for your next promotion, don't you think?"

Briikase winced. Billy continued.

"I don't take it personally. That's how we do things. Consuls are within their rights to challenge the authority of the Mandalore, and deadly force is usually the method. Reason is tedious and boring."

"I tried to challenge Ranov'la once. He put his blade into my thigh. Still hurts when it gets rainy."

He stood to leave. "Your shoulder has been repaired, but it will be sore as hell for about a month. Light duties for you. Lots of paperwork being a Consul, you will find."

He winked as he left the room. "Better luck next time, eh? And wound me, don't kill me. I'd like to retire to Curacao, or maybe Gran Canaria."

Briikase lapsed into a fitful sleep.

As he walked down the corridor, Billy reflected that the Mandaorians should figure out a less bloody way of succession planning.

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