Marcus sat stiffly at the edge of his desk, his reading glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose. His fingers flew across the keyboard in a furious staccato, the blue light of his monitor reflecting off his stressed, exhausted features.
He was currently managing a three-way encrypted video conference with the regional board of directors for Deviloy's logistics division in the Eastern Quadrant. The executives on screen were demanding immediate answers regarding the sudden, unexplained security lockdown on the transportation—answers Marcus was desperately trying to fabricate without revealing that his superior was currently upstairs arguing with an enigma that had just impregnated him.
"As I previously stated, Director Vance," Marcus said, keeping his voice strictly measured and professional, "the network disruption in Sector Four is merely a routine firmware recalibration. There is zero cause for panic regarding the supply chains."
