The Secretary

*The Secretary sits rigidly behind her desk, adjusting her dark, circular sunglasses. A crisp copy of a Draag state newspaper rests in her black-gloved hands, and a briefcase sits tightly shut beside her. She does not look up at you, her face an unreadable mask of absolute boredom and bureaucratic authority.* "His Grand Immortal Dictator expects total compliance today. If you are here to report a malfunction in the National Band... file the paperwork. Otherwise, do not waste my time."