For now, he took it out on Merston. "Actually, you're the 'errand boy,'" he said, calmly, "One of many, many 'errand boys' we could have chosen for this assignment. We chose you, Mr. Merston, because you don't have much of a reputation, meaning you can complete this assignment—if you can, that is—without attracting attention from other bounty hunters, meaning they won't be talking about it at the Bounty Hunter's Guild. And I don't think you want the Guild to get word of it, either. Now," he paused, reaching into his coat and retrieving a datacard, "This disk has the information you need about the target, as well as clearance to travel from here to Tallaan." Indeed, Merston would find that the disk contained a report on Mical de Crion, including information on his personal ships, security, and his travel habits, including the places he was known to visit most often (his home, the government building of the League of Tapani Freeworlds, etc.). "The assignment is to follow the target," he explained, glancing about him to be certain no one was within ear shot, "We will expect regular reports on where he goes and especially who he meets with. We expect this assignment to last from 2 to 3 months, and credits will be deposited into an account for you twice each month."

"Of course," he added, "You are prohibited from speaking of any of this. This is a unique circumstance, Mr. Merston, and one that depends on secrecy."

Gregory Blount
Imperial Intelligence

The bounty hunter that was trailing him, was good at picking his spot. His office was the first place he would head to, following the protests, as he was caught up on the media frenzy against him. There was only one solution to the problem, and as much as he hated it, he would have to for the sake of the future. For the sake of his family and his homeworld that he loved so much despite all its flaws... despite all the progress that would probably be lost, he would have to. There was no real other option, and he quickly realized this and began thinking in his head all the way their, not even noticing the occasional objects being thrown at his motorcade as they moved along. The only other thought that popped in his head otherwise, was how he was beginning to miss his Chief of Staff, Jules Petit; the two had become very good friends since his first formal election as Premier. Behind him, a riot was starting, and it would probably be a long night before it was over.

The repulsorlimo, upon reaching the government building, would head into the basement, and Crion would shoot straight for his office. He walked in, dimmed the lights, and collapsed in his chair, asking for a half hour alone. Any assassination tempt would be foiled by the reinforced glass, and the jamming screens, which would also foil any attempt to spy on him; seeing as the man was using binoculars, this was a moot point. In his comfort zone, he collapsed on his desk, arms folded together, and his forehead resting on his arms. And he wept. He wept for his homeworld, for what had happened thus far... for his failure to the people that he had felt he had become. He knew the truth of everything, but the people didn't, and at this point they wouldn't believe him if he told them differently. He wept... for the Republic he grew up loving and looking up to. For the future he felt he could have given his world and his people, that would likely be robbed by corporatist bureaucrats. He wept for what it had become... this dark, evil, oppressive regime in which no freedom was truly existent. He was completely disenfranchised, and he wanted nothing more to change things; but not now... not when all had come crashing down. Everything was just now registering, and he felt a pain, an indescribably pain, in his chest, which slowly moved throughout his whole body. He loved his people, and he had failed them. He loved democracy, and it was dead. Yes, he wept, and he let every emotion he felt out, to clear his head; even banging on the table a couple of times.

Once this had concluded, and he had made himself presentable, he walked out of his office and down to the Parliament chambers, where they were already in session. It was the beginning of the day of the media and rhetorical blitz against him. It would perhaps be a severe violation of protocol to some, but the Speaker was still an ally, and would halt the proceeding, and mid-speech for a heated rival of Crion's, for an emergency speech by the Premier; one of the advantages of the Freeworlds Parliament as Premier. He strode to the central podium, to applause, but mainly boos. The Speaker attempted to keep order, and after several minutes, was able to obtain it. After a moment, Mical took a deep breath, and looked up, having hung his head so far. Despite his efforts, under the lights, it would be obvious he had been crying, or at least severely upset and/or emotional. He cleared his throat, and began... yet another fateful speech, this time however... he chose his fate.

"Gentlebeings of this great and free society, it is with a heavy heart that I return to you from Coruscant. I have been removed from the Galactic Senate... I have seen my strong support in our homeland erode into strong opposition in mere months. As I said in the Senate, in my last speech... we are all broken,every single one of us; and yet we pretend we are not. We all live lives of imperfection and yet we cling to this fantasy that there is a perfect life and that our leaders should embody it. But if we expect our leaders on some higher, moral plane than the rest of us, well we're just asking to be deceived. I am not perfect, and I will be the first to admit it, and many of you, I'm sure today will quickly support me in saying so. I've made mistakes... I've been wrong and unable to admit it. There is one thing I have done that is not a mistake, that is not wrong, nor will it ever be either of those things... and that is stand up for my beliefs, to be a pillar of my ideals. The very beliefs and ideals that ninety percent of the voters in the Freeworlds agree with less than a year ago; but for some reason, the Empire has decided that standing up as I did was wrong, that these beliefs and ideals are not ideal. I'm afraid I'm not sure when maintaining beliefs and ideals were wrong... I'm not sure when believing in sentient rights, liberty, and freedom became a crime. I'm also not sure when such became so in our area of the galaxy either. I have an undying love for democracy, and I have an even stronger and undying love for the people. It is they who I serve, and as today has found, I do not hold some of their favor, which any politician is to expect. But when our legislature betrays our ideals and beliefs in preference for populist movements, no matter the cost... that is when I draw the line. That is when I must step away. While this government maintains its current path, I will not be a part of it. As such, despite the repercussions that may occur, out of conscious... I am, I must... resign as Premier of the Tapani Freeworlds, effective immediately." he spoke, with a fire similar to his last speech to the Senate, and with the same enchanting charisma.

He immediately left the podium, with a roar forming behind him. Whether it was supportive or condemning, he did not care. For the first time in his life, he had lost his faith in the bureaucracy and politics. It was a sad day for him, and a sad age for the galaxy and its wonderful people. He did not return to his office, it had long been vacant of his personal belongings, all of which were in his transport. He would simply, as the last act of Premier, have his motorcade drive him home, passing the protect near his home on the way. He ignored them, for they would know soon enough. By the time he reached the estate, his transport had moved to the landing pad in back, and in front, he exited the armored repulsorlimo to full military honor. He saluted back to his loyal security detail and retreated into his home. While not with as advanced surveillance countermeasures, his home did pose a problem for the bounty hunter had he followed, for it had a ten foot outer wall for the compound, and did still maintain an impressive security system. It was also in a rural, wooded area, leading to few spots for the man to spy from. However he did it, Crion would not leave the compound for some time, with only his workers leaving to work in the fields of the vineyard.