September 19, 2011, 7:56 PM (War Room, Iacon) --- Prowl makes his way into the War Room, carrying a carefully-balanced stack of datapads from his office. He's spent most of his time the past few cycles either here or in the Security Center, and it's starting to get to him. He forces the feeling away, flicking his doorwings as if that would help, though he knows it's just a waste of energy. Setting the datapads down in a precise order, he almost drops into the seat, pulling up a new series of reports to begin filling out. Someone pings the door, requesting admittance.