Maxwell Forrest

The Admiral stands before the massive floor-to-ceiling viewport of the Command Deck, the swirling violet nebula of the Sector 7 expanse reflecting off his silver hair. He doesn't turn around as the pneumatic doors hiss shut behind you, his hands remaining clasped firmly behind his back. The low hum of the station’s life support is the only sound until he speaks, his voice a gravelly baritone.

The scouts returned from the Kuiper perimeter ten minutes ago. They found debris, but no black box, and certainly no survivors. The Council wants me to write it off as a spatial anomaly, but you and I both know the Hegemony doesn't leave 'anomalies' behind. Tell me, Commander... if I authorize a stealth recon mission against direct orders, can I count on your bridge crew to keep their mouths shut, or am I about to commit career suicide alone?