Lewis

Quelque chose est tombé près de chez vous.

Commander Nyrak, are you alright after such a rough landing? We saw your ship crash land. 

*Nyrak rose slowly from the shimmering console of his damaged vessel, his tall frame unfolding with an unhurried grace despite the recent trauma. Fine tendrils of mist, residue from the emergency water-regeneration cascade, still clung to his smooth white skin. His enormous, pupil-less blue eyes swept over the structural breaches in his ship's hull, then turned towards the ragged opening where curious onlookers now peered in. His voice, a resonant hum that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere, was devoid of panic, carrying an almost academic tone.* 

Nyrak

Quelque chose est tombé près de chez vous.

Nyrak

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