Debrief

Facility 17

After-Action Room (AAR)

Tiered, curved rows define the koilon. Cadets form loose groups of two or three. Light pools across the dais, thinning into the seating. Commandant Injirri commands the room from a lectern. A hologram of Facility 17 hangs between her and the wall.

Brevin and Iaro stand together off to the side of the platform, their weight evenly set on their feet. The light fades on them.

“You moved efficiently through the facility.” Injirri gestures to Facility 17.

“And your use of additional lockdown protocols was clever.”

A thin smile lands on Asaris’s face, glancing over at Iaro.

“For once, Kiuto’s broad shoulders prevented him from strutting about.”

Low laughter rolls over the cadets, looking over at him.

Kiuto grumbles.

A fist taps Kiuto on the shoulder. Farah, UIF, grins.

Injirri’s hands rest gently on the edges of the lectern. “While it proved effective, competence does not replace awareness.”

The room waits.

Faint light catches in Asaris’s eyes. Injirri holds his attention.

“Alpha team, you reached the objective. One man, alone. That’s not a victory condition—it’s a vulnerability.”

Chase lowers his eyes.

Conversations bloom.

Aurruoff draws near. Farah turns to Asaris. He stays on Injirri.

He waits.

“A planted device without a team behind it is already compromised.” She holds the surveillance device out to the cadets.

Injirri lets her eyes move—row by row, seat by seat.

She lowers it onto the lectern.

Brevin’s gaze shifts from her to the cadets.

“Bravo team, you understood the objectives of Alpha. Good work. Nonetheless, the device was placed. It is possible it had time to transmit.“

A voice cuts in from the back of the room.

“At what point should understanding become intervention?”

A few heads turn to Nwokolo, UIF.

All eyes snap to Injirri.

She waits.

“Cadets?”

Gjikwak, a Kij, stands. “Intervention was not the objective.”

He sits.

Injirri narrows the distance between her and the cadets with two controlled steps.

“Intelligence gathering rarely rewards binary conclusions.”

Several cadets ease back into their chairs.

“Further, it was a loss of flexibility rather than—“

A line of light widens, spilling down the rake.

Shadows precede two men, who stop inside the threshold.

Liaison officers Yorick, UIF, and Ruon, Kij, stand at attention.

Cadets shift throughout the room, their gaze settling on the officers.

Injirri locks in on them.

“It was a loss of flexibility rather than judgment—and now, we’re skipping ahead.”

Injirri’s stare holds with theirs.

“Sometimes intervention is the objective.”

Yorick’s chin drops.

Her arms drop to her sides. “One moment, cadets.”

She steps away, measured and deliberate.

Asaris locks eyes with Iaro, lifting an eyebrow.

She passes between them, breaking the moment.

Their attention follows her out.

The cadets shift to a neutral position.

Sanmuoro, a human, nudges Balam, another UIF cadet.

Balam throws his voice across the room.

“Tulvan, you owe us a round.”

Several cadets clap.

Tulvan’s lips part. He inhales—

Kiuto comes to his feet and squares his shoulders. “Two rounds. Two bets.”

Tulvan folds his hands on his desk as he rolls his eyes.

Muted laughter comes from the cadets.

“What bets?” Chase’s posture straightens.

A leg swings over a chair, Kiuto lands directly in front of him.

“The bet that Alpha team had the edge.” He grins. “Bold.”

Kiuto’s finger swoops in, pointing at Asaris.

“And that Asaris would be last-man-standing!”

Clapping and light cheers overtake the room.

The hint of a smile pulls at his mouth.

Asaris looks to Iaro crossing the room and draws his arms in, shoulders tightening as he leans away a bit.

Iaro sits beside him and hooks his arm around Asaris, giving him a brief squeeze.

“Last-man-standing... this time,” Iaro cheers.

“Every time.” Asaris gently thrusts his elbow into Iaro.

Kij hands fall on Tulvan’s shoulders, giving him a brief shake.

Aurruoff leans in to Tulvan’s ear. “Drinks all around is your objective. Tonight!”

Laughter and cheers press in from all sides.

Injirri steps in.

Voices overlap in the koilon.

Footsteps fall as Injirri descends the stairs.

Brevin’s boot drops onto the dais, breaking through the chatter. “Cadets... Cadets!”

The cadets’ attention shifts to Brevin. He nods towards Injirri.

The chatter drops. The cadets posture straightens.

A measured stride takes her back to the lectern.

Her palms touch the tabletop.

A pause.

“We will reconvene. Thank you, cadets.”

The rows break. Packs lift. The room empties.

Injirri stands at the lectern.