Alone in the security room sits Varriks the Loyal. Once a scribe to a great Kell, now a loyal servant of the Reef who spends his time tracking down Fallen too evil for their own sake and monitors Guardian activity in the Prison of Elders. A facility that houses the worst of the worst. Currently Varriks is on a swivel chair with his legs up, one pair of arms rests behind his head while the mechanical pair cradle a bowl of Lucky Charms. Said to be magically delicious. He stares at a wall of tv's, each a different room and corridor of the prison. But all empty. He resumes his munching when a little light on the dashboard starts to flash slowly. His munching stops as he diverts is eyes since he has not seen this alarm in quite some time. He jolts his head up as his resting pair of arms now start to flip through rooms. There he spots a fireteam in the top entrance. A bit of charms fall out of his mouth. He moves the food to one side of his mouth as he scrambles to the intercom. "Heh.." he coughs as his voice cracks. Clearing it with a large gulp of the cereal he speaks again in a confidant but groggy tone: "Welcome guardians! To the Prison of Elders. Liiiiive to tell the tale" And just like that he Varriks felt useful again. A wave of happiness and joy hit him feeling whole. He sits back on his swivel chair and kicks his feet back up to resume his crunching of Lucky Charms. He pauses for a brief moment, then nods in agreement... this was right... Just then on the intercom he hears a Guardian speak: "This shit is the same thing!!" A wide eyed Varriks sits with his jaw open and a spoon full of cereal inches from his mouth.