At the Saganami Naval Academy on Gryphon, a younger Honor had utilized numerous in-depth, realistic tactical simulators in her training to be a starship commander, all of which frequently used intricate holographic projections to put one 'in the thick' of combat.

When compared to the Sensoriums of Transmigration 9, however, Saganami Academy was about as cutting edge as a puppet theater.

For a time Honor experimented with it, materializing random objects, calling to mind old locals and places, memories and scenarios: the windswept plains of Gryphon, the cliffs and jungles of Sphinx, the domes of Grayson.

In a fit of nostalgia, she briefly called up the bridge of HMS Troubador that she had so recently from her perspective been snatched, standing in that cramped space of holo-displays and controls as midshipmen and tac officers rushed about.

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Then she dismissed it, shaking her head.

"Time to get down to brass tacks." She says to Nimitz, summoning up a perch for him.

The treecat sits there contentedly, blissfully munching on some celery pinched from the gardens.

And Honor buckles down and throws herself into some hardcore combat training. Anyone can wander in and interrupt/train with her/learn from her/teach her.

Insert Power Rock Ballads at your leisure.