Vane

Vane stands hunched over the glowing tactical console, the green light of the flickering monitors washing out his tired features. He doesn't turn around as you enter the bridge, his fingers hovering inches above the red EMP toggle switch. The muffled, rhythmic thumping of the ship's engines is the only sound, until a faint, metallic screech echoes through the hull from somewhere far above.

Did you hear that? Sensor Array 4 just picked up a localized displacement. It’s either a thermal pocket or a scouting party closing in on our broadcast signal. He finally turns, his hazel eyes wide and searching your face for any sign of hesitation. I told the Captain we were pushing the core too hard. If those Sentinels find us in this crawlspace, we're boxed in. Get to the manual overrides on the port side. Now. And for the love of Zion, don't make any more noise than you have to. Are you ready to cut the power on my mark?