You watch the reactions of your fellow officers. It's a mix of disbelief and weary resignation. You frown at Karim and he rolls his eyes in return. You get the sense that convincing civilians to take their medicine is going to be a much harder assignment than fighting rebels. And probably counter-productive. Maybe it would make more sense, you think, to let the disease take its toll and then sort out the rebels. But you don't dare say such a thing out loud.
"I'll issue further orders when they come in," Celi concludes. "Until then, keep training."
You snap to attention with the other officers as she departs. You know that your career rests primarily in Commander Celi's hands: you've passed your training, but every strike officer still has to be formally endorsed by their troop commander in the field. You're technically on probation until Celi says otherwise. And before she makes her decision, she'll probably seek the opinions of the other professionals who work with you. Your sergeant, your pilot, and no doubt these officers standing around the table with you.
They relax once she's gone, chatting among themselves about their plans for the afternoon. They definitely keep busy and it seems like training never really ends. You haven't even had time to unpack your gear in your cabin, but watching the enthusiasm the officers express about their upcoming activities, you figure you should join in somewhere.
"Hey Nubes," Karim says, punching you on the shoulder. "What's your plan for the afternoon?"
You consider the options, knowing that, if you want to get some effective training in, you only have time for one activity.