Emil was working a long night at his desk in his apartment at 500 Republica. The news cycle was aflame and he was barely able to keep ahead of it. The Jedi had won a battle at Denon, a battle he himself had not won. The Syndicates had struck and critically wounded Mon Cala. The Hutts had taken over the criminal underworld on Ord Mantell, to the Republic's galactic north; and now there was some rumblings of Sith sightings on Mandalore. Add to all of this an upcoming meeting of the Galactic Senate. It was all too much.
When Emil finally couldn't take it anymore, he shoved away from his desk and strolled into the living room. It was cooler in there. A cold draft from the open balcony wafted into the room, carrying with it the sound of Coruscant's countless skylanes. He took up an iced glass of something strong he'd had sitting around on his coffee table and drank deeply. The sounds of Coruscant always soothed him when he was stressed. But they proved to be not enough this time.
He worried for the Republic.
More and more worlds were leaving by the day. It wouldn't be long, he thought, until there was no Republic at all. Unless the Republic was just Coruscant and the corporate worlds, and what Republic would that be? He supposed he would find out at the next senate meeting. For now, he sucked in another gulp of night air, closed his eyes, and tried to focus elsewhere on anything else. Like what that miserable wretch Jin was doing. That one was never up to any good. @Sreeya