Gilamar Skirata
The most important step is always the next one
The Lazy Strill screamed through Coruscanti space. Approved for landing as a diplomat the current head of the Skirata Clan as well as the Mand'alor, leader of the Mandalorians made his way to the senate. They were to meet in a few minutes and Gilamar and the Mandalorians were the topic. No doubt they had tons of silly replies or weak willed, half thought out answers, but what else was he to expect from Aruietii who sat on their shebs all day long flapping their gums about where their giant personal starships could and couldn't sit.
Oh yes, Gilamar was angry. Angrier than he had been in several years. Not even had the Sith's bombing of Keldabe angered him this much. If one could touch the Force, the sheer volume of the hatred, loathing, and murderous intent could be felt. It was revolting, thick as a Sith Lord's odor in the Force. As such he was stopped by two Jedi before entering the senate building, being forced to relinquish his weapons. That was fine. His armor and his body was enough. With his helmet mag clipped to his waist he entered the large double doors.
To the non-Force user, his anger was plastered all over the wrinckled old face. You could see it in his grey eyes. Whatever had him angry, the Senate would soon have to deal with, likely with little to no success.
As Senate moved into session, Gilamar's podium pod hovered into place. It was his time to speak. <Karking airheads...> he muttered to himself in Mando'a before speaking. "I want answers." he said simply. It was obvious he had little training in the private sector or in politics. "What in the Seven Corellian Hells was a Republic-Fel Remnant Fleet doing in my, in OUR territory?"
A pause. He didn't wait for a response.
Flipping a switch he began to play data from not only the Ja'hailir station that had been destroyed, but the attack on Aetan II. "We came here not two months ago telling you that you were becoming too unruly, too...Ambitious. You turn us away, tell us to mind our own buisness. A month before that you refuse to aid, or even hold an investigation when Mnenchii ships aided in the destruction of our Dark Prison base on Mykyr. And now this?!" His gloved fingers curled around the edges of the podium pod tightly.
There wasn't anything stopping this hate train. Probably.
Oh yes, Gilamar was angry. Angrier than he had been in several years. Not even had the Sith's bombing of Keldabe angered him this much. If one could touch the Force, the sheer volume of the hatred, loathing, and murderous intent could be felt. It was revolting, thick as a Sith Lord's odor in the Force. As such he was stopped by two Jedi before entering the senate building, being forced to relinquish his weapons. That was fine. His armor and his body was enough. With his helmet mag clipped to his waist he entered the large double doors.
To the non-Force user, his anger was plastered all over the wrinckled old face. You could see it in his grey eyes. Whatever had him angry, the Senate would soon have to deal with, likely with little to no success.
As Senate moved into session, Gilamar's podium pod hovered into place. It was his time to speak. <Karking airheads...> he muttered to himself in Mando'a before speaking. "I want answers." he said simply. It was obvious he had little training in the private sector or in politics. "What in the Seven Corellian Hells was a Republic-Fel Remnant Fleet doing in my, in OUR territory?"
A pause. He didn't wait for a response.
Flipping a switch he began to play data from not only the Ja'hailir station that had been destroyed, but the attack on Aetan II. "We came here not two months ago telling you that you were becoming too unruly, too...Ambitious. You turn us away, tell us to mind our own buisness. A month before that you refuse to aid, or even hold an investigation when Mnenchii ships aided in the destruction of our Dark Prison base on Mykyr. And now this?!" His gloved fingers curled around the edges of the podium pod tightly.
There wasn't anything stopping this hate train. Probably.