The Interruption

As the dinner neared its end, a faint chime sounded, and the door to Spotty’s quarters slid open. A tall figure stepped in—a Spartan II, his black-and-silver armor gleaming under the soft lights.

"Madam Empress," he said, his voice deep and steady. "I’m sorry to interrupt, but this is urgent."

Spotty

Spotty’s crystalline eyes flicked toward the door, her expression shifting immediately from warmth to focus. She set down her fork gracefully and folded her hands on the table, her demeanor calm but commanding.

"Go on, Sergeant Scott," she said, her voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

Kismet

Kismet straightened from his lounging position, his ears flicking toward the Spartan. Something serious, he thought, his golden eyes narrowing.

"Looks like dinner’s about to get interesting," he said telepathically to Spotty, his tone wry.

Jarek and Taron

Father and son exchanged wide-eyed glances, both immediately sensing the gravity of the situation. Taron instinctively rested a hand on Jarek’s shoulder, a protective gesture as he turned his gaze to Spotty.

"Is… is everything alright?" Jarek asked nervously, his voice small.

Spotty turned back to them briefly, her smile reassuring. "Don’t worry," she said gently. "It’s nothing you need to be concerned about."

Then her attention returned fully to the Spartan, her crystalline eyes sharp and expectant. "What’s the situation, Sergeant?"