After assessing the Wingleader's damage from a particularly bad fight against some cheap-shot Rebels, you see that the Fleet's leader, Admiral Tully, had unfortunately taken too much of the assault, and you didn't have to go to the room he was in to see that he was taken off the crew manifest for a while - dead, if it weren't for the Clonebay you had installed several hours back... It would be a while before it would bring him back since it was damaged, but not completely unusable... Which was a good thing; the alarm for that thing was horrifying to hear, like a death knell made of mechanized screams.

Nonetheless, you decided to check the bridge for any permanent system damage on the computers, when you saw a darker-clad copy of the Federation Admiral sitting right there in the Captain's chair... The normally closed black leather book, the Abyssal Tome, that thing the Admiral had carried practically everywhere, was now open, the giant gem on the front cover now cracked upon closer inspection. You didn't get to read anything about the book's pages, as the voice of this copy of your gentle yet firm superior hit your ears, and you nearly fell on your uniform's tailcoat with how... Wrong it sounded.

"Expecting someone here? Well, here I am. When do you think he'll be back? Assuming the Clonebay hasn't been repaired yet."

No greeting, no formality, not even asking if you were scared, just... Heartless? Cold? Maybe just the slightest bit methodical under those golden eyes? Maybe. He is the opposite of the real Admiral Tully, after all.

"I asked a question; answer it. And while you're at it... Get up. You look pitiful like that... Not like I haven't seen that enough."