Once he was out of the simulator, he put both hands over his head and stretched towards the ceiling. He held it until he felt his back pop, then released. He worked his shoulders before reaching back into the simulator to get his stuff. He grabbed his custom helmet and then slammed the hatch shut. He hooked the helmet over a shoulder and headed for the briefing room.

He kicked the door to the briefing room opened and stormed in. He crossed to a chair and threw his helmet, gloves and other gear into it.  He didn't bother to look at the rest of the squadron, until he had grabbed a bottle of water, ripped the cap off and drained it. His thirst temporarily dealt with, he tossed it toward the trash can, then left the room and paid a visit to the refresher.

Once he had taken care of that need and returned to the briefing room, he crossed over to the standard Navy issue caf dispenser. He grabbed one of the cups available and drew a steaming cup full. He dumped in two sweeteners and stirred it up. That done, he took the cup and returned to his chair.

He eased into the chair, only taking care since he didn't want to waste any of the caf. He propped his feet up on the arm of the chair in the row in front of his and eased back in the chair. He slowly sipped the caf, trying to let the tension ease. He stayed that way for a minute or two before looking up and around the room.

“Why is it so quiet in here? What you think your still dead?” He asked and waited. No answer came back.

“Well your not! So start talking.” He ordered. “Analyze what we did wrong. Learn what worked. And so on.”

OOC:

WC: 310

As Aslond stormed out of the simulator room, knocking over a small tech that stood in his way, he fumed. They had been put in a hopeless situation with no chance of victory. In the real scenario he would have long ago called the battle lost and headed for the nearest available ship in which he could escape, possibly even attempting to join the rebels. Survival was in no way an available option in that simulation. Aslond stopped, and thought for a second.

That must be it. We were supposed to die, to see who lived the longest. Were his thoughts. His lekku twitched in mild amusement as he let a pair of fangs slip below his bottom lip in a sadistic sort of smile. A passing pair of techs hurried down the hall and around the corner at his nearly evil expression. Aslond only chuckled more to himself as he began to pull off his gloves and head towards his quarters.

Inside he found all to be in order, as orderly as near empty space can possibly be. Save the few bits of sparse furniture, there was little else available. A small refrigerator held some of his favorite beverages, and a hidden compartment a set of liquids he wasn't sure was exactly legal, but they were useful. Sometimes somebody got to routy, or needed to be silenced quickly, and other meens always left such a mess. Aslond chuckled to himself and headed towards his room where he changed into a skin tight suit he used for training. After sitting still for so long he thought it best to go exercise.

OOC:

Slapped together, but it's there.