Pherios found himself in his cramped quarters browsing the net on his holo-visor. The Turian sprawled on his back across his bunk, the blue arc across his eyes giving him some momentary escapism has he tried to escape the realities of his cramped room and overall work life.
His room was very dim, the only other light was from a tv speaker and him operating his visor with quick and barely noticeable hand movements in his omnitool. Out of sight from his peers and supervisors, the usually preened intelligence officer was let himself go. No one to cast their judging gaze upon him. With a very athletic build he could himself in loose fitting sportwear, and cotton pants, and a few empty bottles on his nightstand. He wished he could stop time and let these few hours of free time last forever.
*Ping*
The notification in the lower corner of his vision ripped him back to consciousness. The sounds of his official work email clicked on something in the back on his mind as he usually wasn’t bothered off duty, especially from his senior supervisor; and judging from the subject line this wasn’t a blast email sent out across his section. He sat up and read the E-Mail, once twice, and a third time for measure.
“Performance Review…” the words fell off his mandibles like a heavy weight crashing to the floor. This would be his first one.  He surely had nothing to worry about, he’s done everything to the letter and excels at his job. So why was there this creeping dread setting in, what if he wasn’t measuring up. Why was the admiral going to be there? This could be very good or very bad and having an option between either of those did not sit well with him.