'It should be about time.'
Associate Producer Gard sat at his monitor in silence. He was watching some of the movement across his screen.
By his side, a sealed black letter sat, one that he would send out in case of the worst potential outcome. Should that occur, his life would be all but over.
But he would certainly be taking Caldrin with him.
'One… two… three…' Gard nodded to himself. The black veins in the strip of his exposed brain writhed for a moment before settling down. There was a strong flushing sound that came from his heart and the veins calmed, returning to their usual size.
The first image he flickered toward was of a familiar creature with sickly white, reflecting skin.
The Syrn. They were a menacingly toxic race with innate abilities that made the skin of lesser races crawl.
