Post by Binary the Great on Sept 7, 2005 2:25:39 GMT -5
"... And the viral epidemic continues to spread through the population of Destrada with still no word on when New Republic medical supplies will arrive safely. Greg Burdette, GHN, Destrada."
The coyote frowned and turned off the holonet viewer with a disgusted sigh. Several data pads before him listed the contents of the most recent convoy attacks. The majority of them were the usual pirate activities after token goods. A few of the reports detailed medical hijackings and like crimes. However, there was one that was of considerable concern: the theft of major military hardware at the paws of a pirate group using a Dominator-class Star Destroyer. The coyote picked up the pad and read over the report once more, wondering how a Dominator could have escaped their notice for so long.
Reaching the end of the document once more, the canine lightly tossed the pad onto the desk. He rose from the chair behind and paced around his office.
The office itself was fairly typical. The pneumatic door had the seal of New Republic Intelligence colored into both ends, and a small plaque outside the front read "Gen. McNiel" on it. A plackard on the coyote's desk further extrapolated with "General James McNiel" through the clear plastic. In one corner of the room, near the door, stood a flag with the New Republic symbol on it, while another on the other side gave homage to those loyal troopers whom had gone missing in action or were taken prisoner during the civil war. The back wall behind the desk was McNiel's "me wall" and held numerous images of him with other famous people and awards he had earned throughout his career. One of the remaining walls held a small-scale galactic information display. It was currently set to display a little icon where each of the pirate attacks occured. The other side of the office had the holonet viewer, which now merely displayed another copy of the New Republic seal.
James ran his paws through his brown hair before a preset tone alerted him that he had a meeting in five minutes. The coyote used those minutes to straighten his desk. He looked up as the sound of the pneumatic doors opening came to his ears.
"Ah, General Starkiller," McNiel began, rising and offering a paw, "punctual as always." He was forcing a more congenial smile than he felt like showing, but it was of little consequence. He retracted his paw after shaking and motioned to one of the two seats before his desk. With his other paw, he picked up the pad depicting the military convoy's attack. "Please, have a seat. I'd like you to read this report and tell me what you think about it."
The coyote frowned and turned off the holonet viewer with a disgusted sigh. Several data pads before him listed the contents of the most recent convoy attacks. The majority of them were the usual pirate activities after token goods. A few of the reports detailed medical hijackings and like crimes. However, there was one that was of considerable concern: the theft of major military hardware at the paws of a pirate group using a Dominator-class Star Destroyer. The coyote picked up the pad and read over the report once more, wondering how a Dominator could have escaped their notice for so long.
Reaching the end of the document once more, the canine lightly tossed the pad onto the desk. He rose from the chair behind and paced around his office.
The office itself was fairly typical. The pneumatic door had the seal of New Republic Intelligence colored into both ends, and a small plaque outside the front read "Gen. McNiel" on it. A plackard on the coyote's desk further extrapolated with "General James McNiel" through the clear plastic. In one corner of the room, near the door, stood a flag with the New Republic symbol on it, while another on the other side gave homage to those loyal troopers whom had gone missing in action or were taken prisoner during the civil war. The back wall behind the desk was McNiel's "me wall" and held numerous images of him with other famous people and awards he had earned throughout his career. One of the remaining walls held a small-scale galactic information display. It was currently set to display a little icon where each of the pirate attacks occured. The other side of the office had the holonet viewer, which now merely displayed another copy of the New Republic seal.
James ran his paws through his brown hair before a preset tone alerted him that he had a meeting in five minutes. The coyote used those minutes to straighten his desk. He looked up as the sound of the pneumatic doors opening came to his ears.
"Ah, General Starkiller," McNiel began, rising and offering a paw, "punctual as always." He was forcing a more congenial smile than he felt like showing, but it was of little consequence. He retracted his paw after shaking and motioned to one of the two seats before his desk. With his other paw, he picked up the pad depicting the military convoy's attack. "Please, have a seat. I'd like you to read this report and tell me what you think about it."
