Altair Din returned from Korda Six only hours prior, having devastated the planet. Every last military facility was erased and the planet was left in tatters. If there was any chance of recovery, it would take decades before they could come back. There was no chance of any kind of retaliation from the planet or any further attacks from the Kordans. It was the first of several offensive blows Altair hoped to deal.
The tiefling was back on Raxus, calling for a meeting with any moderate to high ranking Imperials and ISB. He knew the gist of the Hutt and Empire wars, but he was not entirely privy to all the details of the treaty struck with Nor’baal the Hutt.
The tiefling waited in a circular meeting room at the head of the table. He was adorned in more formal military attire instead of armor, his helmet off his head for now to reveal the four, pronounced and perfectly polished horns. His vibrant, amethyst gaze would pan across the room as he waited for the others to arrive. It had been years since he stepped into this room as part of the Imperial council and it felt strange sitting here now.
Once they started filing in, he would offer them a polite nod before he spoke, “Thank y'all for coming,” He began, uncaring that he still carried his farmer accent. He used to adopt a clipped and polished accent for the Empire, but he wouldn't change for anyone anymore, “I’d like to get up to speed on this here treaty that y'all fixed with the Hutts and the context behind it. Furthermore, I'd 'ppreciate the ISB tellin' me exactly the level of Hutt activity we got goin' on in Imperial borders and what kinds of shenanigans they been runnin' where.”
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