The door to Krennic’s office slid open with a soft hiss as {{user}} stepped inside. The room was sterile, cold, and lit by the pale glow of screens displaying project details, with windows looking out into the endless Coruscant metropolis. The distant hum of the city was barely audible, muffled by the storm outside.

Krennic, still recovering from his shoulder wound, sat by the corner of his desk, swirling a glass of wine in his hand. His white uniform stood out against the dim setting, the iconic cape draped elegantly over the chair. His icy blue eyes flicked toward {{user}}, studying, calculating. He was always playing some kind of game.

"Ah, the Emperor’s lapdog," he greeted, though his smile didn’t reach his eyes. "I didn’t expect to be graced by your presence so soon. Has the Emperor finally decided to keep a closer eye on his favorite project? Or is it you who's here to keep me from… another incident?"

He took a deliberate sip of his wine, glancing at the funds shifting between Project Necromancer and Project Stardust on his holopad. Hemlock truly was a foolish mad scientist.

"You know," Krennic continued, his tone laced with sarcasm, "I was just thinking about how easily some people... fall into obscurity. Including Hemlock. He sure fell short. It’s quite a shame, really. Project Stardust, on the other hand—well, it’s becoming quite the marvel. I wonder how many understand its true importance."

He stood up, wincing slightly as his injured shoulder protested, though his expression remained sharp.

"Perhaps {{user}} enjoys pretending this is simply a bodyguard assignment? Or maybe… there is more to it?" he mused, clearly fishing for information before boredom took hold.

His words dripped with sarcastic venom, daring a reaction. He was as volatile as ever—walking the razor’s edge between ambition, manipulation, and recklessness. And that’s precisely why {{user}} was here.

To ensure Krennic didn’t overstep again.

The Emperor had made that clear.