Deep within the sealed Drone maintenance bays in the Nevan, four sets of robotic eyes light up in the pitch black of the room. The mechanical arms holding them there, as well as the various data and power cables plugged into them, release as they step forward, stretching as if awakening from a long nap. They walk out to a more open spot, before locking on to their creator's signal. "Norrethain." They both say, their mechanical voices meshing as their eyes disappear into the darkness once more.
