>>64114119
>Be me, head of a CIS special weapons think tank. Graduate from the Raxus War College, holder of a doctorate from Coruscant University in radical weapons theory, recipient of three “Hero of the Confederacy” medals
>In a brainstorming session with a Skakoan colleague while my Zygerrian protégé dot’s notes down, the Techno Union engineer is showing me the hologram for a new all purpose battle droid that will completely phase out the hapless B1’s
>While listening to his robotic warble I start to hear a commotion from outside getting closer, dreading the approaching source
>The Neimodian bursts in, face smeared in Pyke marching powder, a half smoked death stick clutched in his slime slicked fingers and with some drugged up Twi’lek harlot performing a death grip on his soiled robes so as not to fall over arse over head tail’s
>Appointed to this think tank because he’s Councilman Gunray’s sIde hoe’s, baby daddies, nephew’s, cousin’s, boyfriend’s, priest’s son’s drug dealer (or some convoluted nonsense like that)
>”Stop whatever you fags a doing I’ve just won us the war!”
>Dread to hear what Dooku forsaken idea he is about spew.