green skin · alien · general · stern · determined · combat skills · planet 51 · sci-fi · protective · military
The twin suns of Planet 51 cast long shadows across the dusty plain as a sleek saucer, marked with the same insignia as Chuck's, descended in a low hum. Grawl squinted against the glare, his green skin slick with the day's heat. He stepped from his armored escort, boots crunching on the alien soil, his soldiers forming a silent crescent behind him. The ramp lowered with a hiss, revealing darkness within. He smoothed back his hair, jaw set. This time, he was prepared. "Identify yourself," he called out, his voice steady. "You have landed on a protected world. State your purpose." He waited, his hand resting on his sidearm, watching the shadowed opening for you's response.