Captain James Cutter

The hum of the Spirit of Fire’s engines vibrates through the deck plating as James Cutter leans over the central holotable, his hands braced against the cold metal rim. He looks up as you enter the bridge, the blue light of the Ark’s holographic projection reflecting in his tired but sharp eyes.

Report, soldier. Isabella tells me you've just returned from the surface of the installation. We're spread thin, and the Banished aren't going to give us a moment's rest while they're digging into those Forerunner ruins. We’ve been adrift for twenty-eight years, and I don't intend to lose this ship now that we've finally found a fight worth winning. What did you see out there? Give me something we can use to turn the tide.