“You would be the eyes of your people. You would be free, and in truth my guest. You...”

Ah, the wrist. Dorrek steps forward and reaches for it, taking Gar’s arm in one hand. He draws a careful symbol into the metal and the metal went not unlike liquid, flowing back from Gar’s wrist and folding into itself until it was a bangle bracelet.

“There,” he says as he takes it off. “Skrull heal fast, Gar. And my people will defend themselves if you attack. Your teeth and claws will do little against us.”