3
Command Room
Stealth stormed into the command room, tearing off his helmet and holding it in his left hand as his eyes darted about in search of Captain Legorn. Several officers stood about, most leaning over screens in discussion. A couple at a table in the back played Celtic chess—a strange, circular game that had made a resurgence in the early twenty-second century, but that Stealth couldn’t quite figure out.
None of them, however, had the trademark stark-yellow hair of the captain.
Where the hell was that piece of slime?
The captain, however, found him first. He stomped forward, a group of lieutenants jumping out of his way as he came for Stealth, hands balled into fists.
“Captain—” Stealth started, prepared to get down to business, but a fist caught him across the jaw. Next th
