Crusader's Shadow
The dark, smoky room was filled with shadows in every corner. The only light inside came from the active terminal on a large obsidian desk. Its screen was currently occupied by a shadowy silhouette of a man, though he was scrambled and highly obscured regardless.
And when the scrambled man spoke, his voice was also deeply masked and digitally altered.
“So Anatol,” said the scrambled man, “how’s the family doing lately? I heard your children have been pretty busy these past few weeks, making their mark on the Federation. I keep seeing and hearing mention of them all over the ‘Casts.”
Seated in front of the terminal was an old man in his 60s, his face obscured by the shadows all around the room.
He smiled proudly at the mention of his children.
“They’ve been doing absolutely wonderful,” he replied. “Thanks for asking. And I’m glad you noticed their efforts. They’re so dedicated to our message and our values that they’ve been working themselves to the bone.”