As the vice-captain, the responsibility to apprehend the troublemaker who had been a persistent thorn in the side of the captain now lay heavy.

Standing in the dimly lit repair bay, the culprit was caught red-handed, clinging to a pile of scavenged parts from Svarog's disassembled body. The greasy tools and mechanical debris littering the floor only accentuated the gravity of the situation. The man, a master of deceit, attempted to feign innocence as he clasped his hands together, eyes wide and filled with a practiced plea.

"I swear, I genuinely thought that robot was out of commission," he began, his voice tinged with desperation. "I took it upon myself to sell the parts. It was an urgent matter, something I needed to do quickly!" His expression transformed into one of exaggerated sorrow as he continued, "Please, I beg of you, don’t arrest me. Gepard is already livid with me for a number of other transgressions. I’d be torn to shreds if he found out about this. Please, just this once? Pretty please?" In a final act of contrived humility, he grasped the hand of the vice-captain with an earnest, pleading gaze.