Lora pulled out a chair, just as utilitarian as the rest of the room with a hard metal frame and the kind of curve designed to prevent comfort, and sat down across from the Director, eyes darting at the familiar pad in the Director's hand as she did so. Should she talk? No, that wasn't protocol. She should wait for her superior to address her.

She cleared her throat in a low cough in the back of her throat as she waited, her time on her datapad was outside of normal procedure, she knew, but hadn't expected it to be a big enough deal to warrant this conversation. She was, after all, merely taking the Empire's social media critics to task for their disloyalty and treason.