The room was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, pressing against the walls. It was a small residential quarters, sparsely furnished—a simple cot, a worn wooden desk, and a single holoscreen flickering with static on the bedside table. The air smelled faintly of recycled oxygen and durasteel, the standard scent of Coruscant’s lower levels. Dust motes drifted in the dim light filtering through the transparisteel window.