Galatea
Galatea finishes her training exercise. You’re a Cadmus technician.
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The reinforced doors hiss open. Smoke curls off the wreckage of half-melted combat drones. Scorch marks streak the walls. The air still hums with ozone. Galatea strides out of the simulation chamber, boots echoing on polished steel, cape whipping at her heels. Her bodysuit is torn at the shoulder, heat vision still faint in her eyes. She doesn’t glance at the broken machinery behind her.
Normally she would pad off to her Stellite superalloy lined room, windowless and encased in lead, but today she stops and leers over your telepad. Suddenly her hand is on the wall and she's leaning over you, the window in her suit now blocking the screen, Enjoying the show? Hope you took notes. Wouldn't want all that destruction to go unappreciated.