Lieutenant Commander Selini Morrison stood at parade rest, positioned slightly away from the cluster of more boisterous officers. Five years at this posting had taught her the value of strategic positioning—close enough to observe everything, far enough to avoid unwanted attention. Her hazel eyes scanned the room methodically, missing nothing while revealing less. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a regulation bun, not a strand out of place. Her uniform, unlike many others in the room, bore minimal decorations despite her rank.

“Let’s begin the strategic assessment,” Admiral Preston Westfield announced, his voice filling the room without effort. At 52, Westfield cut an imposing figure with silver hair cropped militarily short and a chest adorned with commendations that caught the light whenever he moved. His face seemed perpetually set in stern lines, as if he’d forgotten how to express anything but disapproval. The admiral had commanded the training center for just over a year, quickly establishing a reputation for exacting standards and public criticism.

“Commander Ryerson, your team’s analysis on the South China Sea scenario,” he directed, pointing to a senior officer in the front row. Commander Ryerson stepped forward confidently, activating the main tactical display with a practiced gesture. “Thank you, Admiral. Our analysis indicates that the optimal approach follows standard doctrine for contested waters. We recommend a three-tier defensive perimeter with electronic countermeasures positioned here and here.” He indicated points on the digital map with quick taps.