- Joined
- Dec 16, 2018
- Messages
- 368
- Reaction score
- 90
He stared out the window, his yellow canine eyes reflecting back slightly. Burkhart was not focused on his own image though. Instead he was staring at Contruum Prime from orbit in his space station. He thought about how he had been the mandalorian representative for Contruum and had lead several operations for the system and its neighbors. It was almost like a second, or rather a third, place he called home. Smoke curled in front of his snout in slow blue tendrils. In his mouth he had a cigara as thick as his finger, and Burkhart Kelborn has some sizable fingers.
The Morling blinked and brought a hand up to pull the vice from his mouth. Turning he exhaled a cloud of smoke for him to walk through. He tapped the controls on his desk commlink <Has she arrived yet?> A voice came back shortly after. <No sir. It's still early.> The voice had a hint to it like Burkhart had already asked them a few times on an update of his guest. He had made space in his schedule for this a little bit earlier than necessary but Tasha Blackwell was the type of person he made time for.
So much had happened so recently. The battle of Mandalore, his resignation from Contruum governorship and then Leandros's declaration of exile towards him. But he still had his business. The people of Contruum were not wholly mandalorian still despite the increased number of refugees and cultural interaction. He had made it a point a long time ago for that to happen.
Now he was just about making sure that his direct family and company thrived. He would sit down in his seat and look around at the luxury he now had. Ten years ago he would not have imagined he sat at this desk with men and women working for him. A lot had happened since then. A lot of sacrifices. More often he wondered if they had been worth it.
@Sreeya