Erich grunted quietly, then stood up as he watched Ranna's debriefing of the sim's end result. Straightening his jacket slightly as he stood, his dark gaze simply swept the room, the crow's feet at the edges of his eyes suggesting that he was measuring each of them in his own way.<br/><br/>"Ranna covered the basics. Now, as you lot probably guessed, that was my Awesome that laid into your flank, with Lee adding to the pain as she saw fit. And yes, that was me using the Referee channel to chuckle evilly when you took the HPG bait. Admittedly, it was intended to see if you spook over general comm channel shenanigans. And, before you stand up to shout at me Alroy, you can check the comm logs in the sim's computer to see that no, I did not tap into your inter-unit comms." Walking around the holomap, he examined it for a moment, then nodded.<br/><br/>"Now, let's be honest; this fight really was stacked against you. Light, Long-range, fast-moving hovercraft armed with missiles and cannons are notoriously hard to hit to begin with, and, once you combine that with weather conditions, as well as the rather open plain you trudged through, you did manage to take out a reasonably large number considering the conditions. So, as a rough point-by-point, here's what you did right, and wrong. Recon played fairly well to your strengths; you kept mobile, and, to be honest, nobody expects pinpoint accuracy anyway. But, you pressed an attack against a foe that was more maneuverable than you, which pulled you out of position, and, I might add, knocked out your actual lance lead early.<br/><br/>"Secondly, while you did keep up a volume of chatter within your local comms, after your lance lead was knocked out, almost all cross-communication between recon and fire lances stopped. Due to the speed disparity, Recon ended up isolating itself, and only your mobility and use of jumpjets to avoid most retaliatory fire kept you from losing more than a few limbs."<br/><br/>He paused, pouring himself a small glass of water and taking a sip before continuing. "Fire lance. Same basic bullshit; you got caught up in the want of hunting your enemy, were lured into a semi-dispersed position, and, when Chzorda's team popped up, you basically charged him, leaving your back open. Which is why Robert's Marauder got backshot when I walked through the snowbank. On the positive side, you immediately wheeled and opened fire instead of trying to advance while under fire from three sides; if the sim hadn't ended, you might have even breached my armour before volume of fire mission-killed you."<br/><br/>Another sip of water, and a quiet grunt as he shifted slightly, apparently working out an old ache. "Now, I know this probably stings, but this will save your lives in the field, so don't take it personally. Never assume that just because someone else is better at something doesn't mean you can't overlap their skills if you get seperated, or lose communication. Even when we're done with the sims, I want you to practice with what you consider your least-used or 'weakest' skills. Find a buddy whose skills complement yours and you can train one another, to an extent."<br/><br/>He rubbed his eyes for a moment, blinking, then nodded slightly, more to himself than anyone else in the room. "Fair warning; I'm going to ride your asses harder than Ranna does, and you're probably going to hate me for it. At the same time, I want to ensure that each and every one of you comes back after a mission in one piece. Are we clear?"