Tactics of War, Monday, 6 - 8 PM FHT
Admiral Harrington is standing at the front of the room, arms folded across her chest, most of her weight resting on the table behind her. Anyone paying exceptionally close attention might notice she is favoring her left leg just a bit, a result of allowing the training bot to slip past her guard. Nimitz is on the table, guarding a plate of cookies with an impish gleam -- because hey, they're not celery, but he's never known Mac to make anything bad.
"My apologies, but I'm afraid I don't have a lecture prepared for you this evening. Please sign in, turn in your papers, and you're free to grab a cookie then disappear for the evening. Nimitz and I will be available after class if you have any questions or concerns."
She smiles and hovers near the front to attend to any questions or discussion.
"My apologies, but I'm afraid I don't have a lecture prepared for you this evening. Please sign in, turn in your papers, and you're free to grab a cookie then disappear for the evening. Nimitz and I will be available after class if you have any questions or concerns."
She smiles and hovers near the front to attend to any questions or discussion.