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Eceil slips into his spot at the breakfast table, where he just stares at his food for a long moment. He hadn’t eaten a halfway decent meal in a long time, but thanks to either the lack of drinks in his system or the fact the General prepared it Eceil had just found himself without any appetite. Still, it wouldn’t be a sign of good faith to not do anything, so he takes a fork in one hand and twirls it around his bowl absentmindedly.
“Its time for us to plan our next move. Maybe we should start looking into what’s really going on with the Trills. They have to have some kind of embassy here on Courescant, right?”
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