Fleet, having returned from duty on Charr, is stopping by the small quarters he keeps in the troop’s hall of IHQ. Comcast storms into the Troop hall, datapad in hand. His face is dour, and he's obviously in a bad mood. The Seeker looks at the screen, then up. "Where the /slag/ is Reflector?" He asks noone in particular. Fleet, being something of a no one in particular, not to mention the only one nearby, answers a bit timidly, "I, er, haven't seen him since coming here, to be honest." Fleet nods a bit haltingly. "That's right, sir." Fleet shrugs a single shoulder. "Military operations, sir."