Incorporeal

"I have chosen the 8745th Montral Fusilliers to reinforce this theatre, its strengths..." The Lord-Militant droned on and on, his incorporeal hololith image flickering, Sophia was bored, never a good thing. She dimpled a smile to Michael, who was right next to her for once. Raeder, behind her as a good adjutant was supposed to be, glared.