Thyferra, Inner Rim
The last thing Cassian Graves wanted to do was sink more money into another humanitarian project. Goodwill initiatives were all well and good, but nothing drained the pockets of a working man faster than a helping hand. Nevertheless, the senator's reputation was at stake, and that was something he took very seriously.
Senator Sapent's Galactic Outreach Program Act had been shot down almost unanimously by other constituents, but Onderon had not been wholly spared the addition of another unnecessary expenditure. Cassian had vowed before the Galactic Senate to increase funding to the GHO and to explore funding to the ISCRA, and these days politicians were expected to fulfill the promises they made. Electors could be worse than the Syndicates when it came to that.
Only a concern for public opinion would ever drive the Zeltron to seek a meeting with the wicked witch herself, Sibyl Lassiter. It never hurt to improve relations with the ever growing ISC either, even if that woman was one of the most insufferable people he had ever had the misfortune to meet.
The distant, low-pitched hum of the engine died away, and the light freighter's boarding ramp began to lower with a hiss. Beyond it, the landing pad. After hours confined to a stuffy starship, Cassian was ready to stretch his legs and breathe in fresh air again. Although, from what he had heard of Thyferra, you didn't breathe in the air here. You drank it.
@LouJoVi