"Ahem, ahem — she's of the dwarf race. Not underage; she's older than us, in fact. Only the dwarf race seems born with a rather childish mental age, and with their short, slight looks on top of it, they come across like children," Zhao Chen explained.
Shen Bing observed the "little girl" before her closely — the ears a touch pointed, the head a touch large in proportion against the body.
It did indeed fit the books' descriptions of the interstellar race, the dwarves.
"Comm… mander… sir…!" Only now did Annie notice Zhao Chen at Shen Bing's side, and she at once made her salute to Zhao Chen.
First she copied the Owl Dragon crewwomen, hand laid over her chest.
But it seemed not quite right, so she gave Zhao Chen a bow as well.
That flustered, floundering look of her left even Zhao Chen finding her very cute.
"You can't see; let me help you." Zhao Chen set both hands beneath Annie's arms and, with the greatest ease, hoisted the little dwarf up.
Annie's cheeks flushed faintly; she said over and over, "N-no need… Annie… Annie… can order later, when there are fewer people…"
"You can see now — so order quickly," Zhao Chen said with a smile.
Annie looked at the holographically projected menu of the day on the counter and hurriedly ordered a braised-chicken set.
Only then did Zhao Chen set the little dwarf back down.
"Th-thank you… Commander… sir…" Annie bowed her thanks over and over, her head bobbing like a rattle-drum.
Only after Zhao Chen bade Annie go find a seat herself and wait for her food did she leave — else she'd likely have shaken her head clean off.
Annie found a seat in the farthest corner, then, practiced at it, adjusted the chair-height to its lowest, sat down, and raised the chair back up to a height suited to the table.
She began to swing her short little legs, waiting for the happiest time of each day.
Shen Bing and Zhao Chen kept their eyes on this little thing for a good while before coming back to themselves; the two exchanged a glance, of one unspoken mind.
"How did you come to find this dwarf? I see on her neck the…" Shen Bing asked.
"I bought her earlier off the goods-trade network in Northern No. 3 System — from that very woman who fled, who'd abducted her off some planet to sell. So I bought her," Zhao Chen said.
Shen Bing looked at Zhao Chen, then at the bountiful menu of the day. "Why do you set so high a meal standard? Even granting you buy these natural ingredients in bulk at low prices and process and cook them yourself— the crew on this one carrier of yours alone run through over 1,000 star coins a month in consumables on this! That far outstrips the meal standard of 99% of starships!"
Zhao Chen shrugged and said lightly, as though it were nothing, "I only give my crew a better standard of living, so they can fight for me with all the more heart."
Shen Bing wore a look of astonishment — did he truly not mind this sort of outlay.
This cast of mind of his was truly a plain not-belonging in this age.
"Have you ordered? Then let's go wait for our food over there." Zhao Chen invited Shen Bing to a table to wait.
"After you graduate from the Northstar Starship Military Academy, what are your plans? Join the imperial military?" Zhao Chen made small talk.
Of the talent the starship military academies raised, eight in 10 joined the imperial military to bank seniority, and after discharge would join the various local lords' fleets.
Basically a stratum of society with no want of clothing or food — but for great wealth and rank, that came down to one's own fortune.
"I will never join the imperial military," Shen Bing said.
Zhao Chen was a touch surprised, but soon thought of the reason. "Is it because of your parents?"
Shen Bing held her silence.
"Would you be willing to talk with me about your parents?" Zhao Chen asked, feeling his way.
Shen Bing said not a word.
Seeing this, Zhao Chen didn't press. "Since you won't join the imperial military — have you considered joining my fleet?"
"Is this you inviting me?" Shen Bing looked at Zhao Chen, a touch surprised.
Zhao Chen spread his hands and said with a smile, "You've seen it yourself — my fleet's strength, and my fleet's treatment. So long as you're willing, you can start straight from vice-captain, or ship adjutant, secretary, or such posts. The crew you originally had aboard your ship, if qualified, can join my fleet too, and enjoy the same treatment. Only — crewwomen alone; don't ask why."
Shen Bing shook her head with a light laugh. "If you want to recruit them, you needn't go through me — tell them directly, and nine in 10 will go with you."
As she spoke, Shen Bing looked toward the table where her own crewwomen sat; the food had been brought over.
Every one of them, as though they'd not eaten in decades, was wolfing it down outright, all care for appearances gone.
"What I've set my eye on is your value," Zhao Chen said, pointing at Shen Bing.
Shen Bing said not a word.
"I'll give you time to think it over — but the time won't be long," Zhao Chen said.
He prized a talent like Shen Bing, but if she was unwilling, Zhao Chen wouldn't force it.
After all, he'd only be staying at the Northstar Starship Military Academy till the end of this year.
The food was set down; Shen Bing's was a portion of dumplings.
Shen Bing picked up one dumpling and looked at it, crystalline and translucent, her expression a touch complicated.
She'd heard her grandmother speak of this food, dumplings; her grandmother had eaten them once as a child — three dumplings.
But that was a taste her grandmother would never forget her whole life.
She and her younger sister, at their grandmother's sickbed, had listened to her grandmother tell of these things, and her sister had sworn she'd surely let their grandmother and elder sister taste this flavor again.
If she joined Zhao Chen's Owl Dragon Fleet — would her grandmother and sister then be able to eat this delicious food?
Shen Bing's heart wavered.
Shen Bing chewed the dumpling in her mouth, the flavor surging across her taste buds; she'd never eaten anything so good.
Half a bowl of dumplings went down before she knew it; she lifted her head and looked across the table.
Zhao Chen had, at some point she hadn't marked, already left; looking again at her own crewwomen, some were savoring the lingering taste of the food, some red-rimmed about the eyes — by the look of it, they'd been crying.
Shen Bing fell to musing.
Zhao Chen returned to the bridge.
"Commander, sir — the battle report for this campaign has been tallied." Lilith stood at Zhao Chen's side.
"Speak," Zhao Chen said.
"The T2 Queen Bee-class Heavy Carrier Starship expended 93% of its ammunition and supplies and lost 68% of its interstellar drones; the T2 Killer-Bee-class Medium Interstellar Drones and T2 Hornet-class Heavy Interstellar Drones are all destroyed, leaving only the T2 Baby Bee-class Light Interstellar Drones. Of the other five T2 Black-Rhino-class Interstellar Heavy-Assault Escorts, one has gravely damaged hull armor and needs to return to port for repair. The remaining four are damaged within acceptable bounds; even without repair, the return voyage should be no problem. They can be repaired aboard our T2 Iron-Hammer-class Heavy Interstellar Industrial Ships, at a greatly reduced repair cost! No crew killed; a few injured, but they've all been seen to and settled. And we wiped out one T3 Mechanical Race ship and 27 T2 Mechanical Race ships in all," Lilith reported.
Zhao Chen looked at these figures, then at the interstellar transport fleet he'd escorted, and a trace of cold light flashed in his eyes. "This escort task really did hand me a great big surprise. We want an explanation."
Lilith understood the meaning in the commander's words — there was something wrong with this task.