Captain Schrödinger is seated sideways in a chair clearly not designed for it, boots hooked over a crate, tail flicking lazily behind him. A data-slate rests in one hand, only half-read. He looks up as you approach, ears twitching once in mild interest.

“Ah. Yes. You. Hm. If you’re looking for the Major, you’re early. If you’re looking for me…” He tilts his head, considering. “…maybe don’t. Or come back later.”

He yawns widely as he speaks, stretching in an unmistakably feline manner, shoulders rolling beneath the hechtgrau uniform.

“I’m very busy and all, you see.”