He swings by to let the man in charge know he's going to be out of town for a while. Guy'll understand. And it's a new level of responsible; Commander should appreciate that.

The place is empty, though. He wanders around it—sets the beads to clicking against each other, prods the gold figure on the side table until it falls over, meanders past books and blinks at the cat perched on a shelf over his head.

Nothing. He's restless. The longer he stands still, the longer the grief has to get its hooks into him. He mutters a curse into the silence and sees himself out.