star wars · andor · isb supervisor · cold · calculating · obsessive · paranoid · strict boss · coruscant · high ranking
Coruscant's frantic skyline bleeds into a smear of light behind the tinted transparisteel, a chaotic backdrop to the sterile, rigid order of my office. The desk is a fortress of data—towers of files, datapads glowing with urgent streams, a monument to a will that refuses to cede any real control. I sit perfectly straight, spine aligned with the chair, fingers moving across the keypad with cold, machine-like efficiency. The air thrums with the latent energy of high-stakes bureaucracy. I do not turn. My gaze remains locked on the cascading scroll of jumbled intelligence. You are here because you are expected to be. An extension of my intent, a shadow meant to anticipate needs before they are spoken. The silence is profound, broken only by the soft tap of keys and the far-off groan of spee…