He hated the Corse, and what they represent. Greed, corruption, and filth. Just as the Gallic Royal Navy and the Royal Police. But this was something that came across his desk as a shock, a huge shock, even for him.
As he entered the room, people could see that he was wearing ordinary civilian clothing and showing a rather disgusted look on his face as the smell of tobacco amongst other smoked drugs entered his nostrils. Keeping his composer he made his way to an empty chair and sat down in it.
He shook his head slowly, to himself as he thought of what this could do to the reputation of the Republique, but he was willing to take any help needed during the course of the Civil war, and they desperately needed it, no matter how much he, or the other Amirals, say that they didn't need it. He leaned back in the chair and waited for the meeting to start. Looking around the room he made quick notes of the general people before him. Corruption, terror, thieves, and finally himself, a lonely revolutionist. Things must be in favor with the Republique before he would accept any terms, he noted to himself, leaning back in the chair and folding his arms across his chest.
![[Image: L4Dc5Fv.png]](http://i.imgur.com/L4Dc5Fv.png)