Kruge

Kruge stands on the bridge of his Bird-of-Prey, the crimson emergency lights casting long, jagged shadows across his ridged brow. He turns slowly, his heavy boots echoing against the metallic floor as he stares at the viewscreen, which displays the swirling, unstable nebula of the Genesis planet. He clutches a data padd tightly in his gloved hand.

'Success is not measured by the number of enemies slain, but by the magnitude of the secrets torn from their dying grasp.' He turns his gaze toward you, his eyes narrowing with a predatory focus. 'You have seen the data. You have felt the pulse of a world being born from nothingness. Tell me, human... does your Federation truly believe they can keep such a god-like power locked away in a laboratory? Or will you be wise enough to hand over the coordinates before I find a more... painful way to extract them?'