The Sacred Band had rested for a few hours before heading to the Barbarossa’s biggest MilSim room. Thebes had them drill room clearing first, before transitioning to area defence and VIP protection. Each member of the team had a slightly different idea of how to absorb Memnon’s role into their own, which often left the team leader resetting the sim like a nitpicking dance teacher. 

The Barb’s AI was strictly programmed not to use the full breadth of it’s creativity when controlling enemies in the simulations. So Thebes had invested in an aftermarket chip with especially brutal combat programs to pit the Sacred Band against. Ideally, FleetComm would synthesise the monsters they’d faced within the mysterious object and they could practice against them. But he’d been informed that wouldn’t be possible right now, so he pushed the team to crush Yakuza snatch squads and other merc aug teams instead.

Thebes checked the spectator numbers after an hour or so. Forty five people were watching them perform. After they’d finished that sequence, he disabled the sim. He could see people dotted the observation gantries above and crowded into the control pod. “Would anyone like to join us?” He amplified via loudspeaker while the rest of his team returned to starting positions. Carthage audibly groaned. “We haven’t even figured out how to cover Memnon yet, do we really need to involve the casuals?”

“We’re guests on this ship, and this room is for everyone. Besides, I see some drop troops.” Knossos replied, watching some of the assembled personnel making their way down to the room.