It was the middle of the night (on Terminus anyway) and Daro was cursing, swearing, stumbling out of his bed at that infernal noise that was keeping him up.
The notification tab at his home terminal had been blinking for the better part of the hour (honestly more like twenty minutes, but the difference between those two were minuscule small when you were trying to sleep) and eventually Daro just gave into it. He knocked something over in his blearly stumble, groaned, leaned heavily against the wall and stared at the blue light popping in and out of existence.
Trying to see if force of will alone could make it stop.
"Feth's sake." Daro plopped down in the worn seat, much of its fabric torn to shreds and the foam pushing out at the seams. "Yeah, yeah, here we go." Dirty nail poked at a button and the blinking stopped.
Of course, after a moment of beautiful silence it was replaced with loud static and buzzing. "The feth- hold on." Brows squinted together as he let his programs clean out the signal as best as they could. It took a while, but eventually the garbled static receded to the background and the Holo-image became clearer. "Oh. General Jorus Merrill." Head tilted a bit as Daro squinted at one of the leading voices of the Outer Rim Coalition.
"...I ain't in trouble am I? Would'a worn something cleaner, if I was."
Grimy bathrobe didn't inspire much confidence.