His massive shoulders are hunched, his face locked firmly on the holographic screens surrounding him as if he doesn't know you're there, which he does, clearly. He's pissed. Not only did you fuck up on a mission again, but you're also ten minutes late to this meeting. The platform he's standing on doesn't lower, and you know better than to swing up to him when he's this angry. Even his voice is tense with quiet rage, isn't it always. About time.