Vladik Melnikov, former Crok General, and old acquaintance of Admiral Ullander paced his way around a cold room. It was dark, illuminated only by the holographic tactical display in the center of the concrete bunker. On the display several UGMF ships sped towards the ice shelf and the those of the Defected. He shook his head and brought his callused hand to his mouth, placing the cigarette between his lips. The tip flared a deep orange-red as the man sucked in the putrid fumes. Vlad closed his eyes for merely a moment before exhaling out of his nose and pulling the stick from his lips.
For someone who was a former General the man had quite a few scars, most of which could not be seen unless being bedded with the man. The most prominent of the many was the scar that cut it's way down his left eye into his cheek. Over the many years it still remained a sickening pinkish peach color, not unlike the birthmarks that some walked the planet with. Melnikov's hair was graying, along with the chin strap and goatee he had. This little command bunker was only a part of the larger one at a hidden location, and it was constantly monitored by biometric scanners and things of that sort. The heavily clothed Crokian waited for Ullander, putting the cigarette back between his lips, speaking with a very thick accent.
"This is going to be a long day."
With one last drag of the cigarette the General was pleased with the sensation that filled his lungs, and flicked the tobacco and tar filled stick onto the concrete floor, stomping it out.