When Zhao Chen's T3 Blizzard-class Light Interstellar Battlecruiser appeared once more at Northstar Academy, it was the end of June.
At this moment the academy's starport held the greatest number of warships of the whole year; with a great many students graduating and going on holiday, naturally a great many ships gathered here. Most of the warships hovered in the outer space-berthing zone, and those needing to enter the academy came in by shuttle — for ship berths were truly scarce!
But who was Zhao Chen? An outstanding student of Northstar Academy, and a great celebrity besides. The moment his T3 Blizzard appeared, a starport manager came of his own accord to ask whether berthing service was required; and when Zhao Chen made to pay the berthing fee, the man warmly declared that any ship of Zhao Chen's, berthing at Northstar Academy's starport, need pay nothing at all. He hadn't imagined he'd enjoy such treatment now, Zhao Chen mused within.
Zhao Chen stood on the bridge, looking down at this interstellar academy. "After this month, I'll truly be leaving this place."
He hadn't lived at Northstar Academy long, but this was, in a sense, his starting point in this world. However long he'd been away before, there'd always been a day of return. But leaving this time — when he'd next come back, there was no knowing. To tell the truth, there was some reluctance in it.
"What, feeling reluctant? Reluctant to leave those little junior girls at the academy, I'll bet?" Zhao Wan'er piped up beside him, ill-timed as ever.
Zhao Chen coughed. "Speaking of the junior girls — there's actually something I need you to handle for me."
"What thing?" Zhao Wan'er eyed him with suspicion.
Zhao Chen raised a hand and sent Zhao Wan'er an electronic document. She glanced at it — quite familiar. Wasn't this the Owl Dragon Fleet crew-recruitment plan sent out on the dwarf planet before?
"Post this for me at the academy; the terms are the same as written. Give priority to the commoner cadets — it's fine if their aptitude falls short, so long as they qualify," Zhao Chen said.
That was right — Zhao Chen had set his sights on Northstar Academy's pool of talent. As a rule, most of the students graduating from Northstar Academy each year would first enter the Imperial military to be tempered a while, then choose their future direction according to their circumstances. And among them, besides the noble students, the greater number were in fact ordinary cadets — only that ordinary cadets never studied in a department like the Captaincy, which made high demands on one's "means."
"Hey, hey — since when did I become your recruitment officer? And it has to be women soldiers, no less," Zhao Wan'er said, rather resistant — that clause about recruiting only women above all.
"Come to think of it, I'll soon have a second T3 warship entering service," Zhao Chen let drop, all offhand.
Zhao Wan'er straightened up at once, beaming at Zhao Chen. "Brother — leave this to me, rest easy! I guarantee I'll recruit you a fine batch of crew! And, um… this newly serving T3 warship… well, as the saying goes, good water doesn't flow to another's field…"
Looking at Zhao Wan'er's ingratiating expression—
Sure enough, there was nothing a single warship couldn't settle.
"That'll depend on how you handle the job." Zhao Chen laughed.
"I'll go arrange it right now!" Without another word, Zhao Wan'er made ready to leave the ship and see to it. Indeed, to maximize the effect, she got in touch with a few of her close girlfriends to come help her.
"There are still a few days until the graduation ceremony. I'll take the chance to have a good wander through this 'alma mater'; I may not get the chance again." Before leaving the ship, Zhao Chen deliberately changed into an outfit that could disguise his build, and put on a hat and sunglasses besides. The terrifying scene of nearly being "devoured" by the women cadets on his last return to Northstar Academy was still vivid in his memory. This time he'd best be careful.
Changed, Zhao Chen noticed that no few people were still drawn over by the T3 Blizzard — but happily, his departure went unnoticed by them.
The whole of Northstar Academy was vast: teaching zones, residential zones, even leisure and recreation zones. It could be called a small interstellar city. Wandering, Zhao Chen came to an artificial park, where no few couples were enjoying their leisurely hours.
"Ow!"
"You old wretch, what's the matter with you — got no eyes in your head? Can't you see you've run over my girlfriend's foot? And dirtied her clothes! You tell me how you're going to make this right!"
From a corner of the park came the sound of a quarrel. Zhao Chen looked over instinctively, and saw a young man and woman pointing at an old woman slumped in a wheelchair, cursing away, while a teenage girl shielded the old woman with her body. By the young woman's foot was an overturned drink, liquid staining her clothes; her face was thoroughly displeased. Seeing this, the young man, all the more consumed with fury, railed at the old woman and the child.
The little girl kept apologizing, trying to explain. But the couple's voices utterly drowned hers out; the girl, frantic, was near to tears. The old woman in the wheelchair opened and closed her mouth, anxious too, but for all her efforts could get no words out.
Zhao Chen looked at that little girl — she seemed familiar, as if he'd seen her somewhere before.
"I'm sorry… we… we didn't see you… please, don't curse my grandmother anymore… we didn't mean to… I'm sorry…" The little girl, her eyes red and swollen, defended her grandmother.
"Sorry? A 'sorry' and it's done? Aiyo — an old wretch, and wearing some kind of medal? An Imperial-issued medal, no less? Fake, surely." Seeing the medal on the old woman's chest, the young man shoved the girl blocking his way aside and pulled it off.
"Mmm— mmm—" The old woman grew agitated, wanting to take back her medal.
"That's my grandmother's medal of merit — please, give it back to us!" The little girl was truly frantic now. But that frail, slight frame of hers counted for nothing before the young man.
"Give back the medal of merit? This piece of scrap metal — bought off a street stall, was it?" The young man sneered; beside him, the young woman tittered behind her hand. Then, heedless of the little girl's pleas, the young man flung the medal in his hand to the ground and raised his foot to stamp on it.
A hand appeared, at some unknown moment, at the young man's chest, and gave what seemed the lightest of pushes. The young man staggered several steps back.
The man in the hat and sunglasses crouched down, set the medal upright, and gently brushed the dust from it. "Grandmother, let me pin it back on for you." Half-kneeling before the wheelchair, the man personally pinned this medal on the old woman once more. Seeing the medal returned to her chest, the old woman's agitation finally settled; her skin-and-bones hand rose slowly and gripped the medal tight.
The young man, looking at the man before him in the hat, bundled up head to toe, knit his brows and shouted, "Boy, I'd advise you not to mind others' business. This old wretch has no eyes in her head — her wheelchair ran over my girlfriend's foot! And dirtied my girlfriend's clothes!"
"Your girlfriend's foot and clothes are so very precious, are they?" the man in the hat said coldly.
"Of course they're worth more than this old wretch!" the young man said with contempt.
"Worth more than this Imperial White Cloud Medal — the mark that this old one took part, with honor, in the Defense of the White Cloud System in the year 2955?" The man in the hat raised his head and fixed his eyes on the young man.
"What Defense of the White Cloud System?" the young man muttered.
"In the year 2955, the Mechanical Race launched a wave of gravely threatening attacks, their fleets assaulting a number of military bases on the Starlight Empire's borders. Among them, the military base in the White Cloud System was of the utmost importance — for there stood a military star gate linking the Starlight Empire's front line with two other imperial fronts. But the gate, ambushed by the Mechanical fleet, was damaged, and needed a full week to repair. The commander of the White Cloud System gave the order to the fleets below: hold the White Cloud System for one week. A corps fleet — 3,000 warships! Against a Mechanical fleet many times their number, over 10,000 ships — they fought to the death and would not retreat! In the end, with the whole fleet's casualty rate past 95%, they held until the gate was repaired and reinforcements arrived! Of the White Cloud System's garrison fleet then — over 2 million Imperial soldiers — fewer than 10,000 lived through it! For this, the Imperial royal house bestowed on these 10,000 the Imperial White Cloud Medal!"
The man in the hat pressed close to the young man, took off his sunglasses, and revealed a pair of eyes like a hawk's. "Never mind your girlfriend's foot — even your life isn't worth as much as this old one's medal!"
"You're Zhao Chen!" The young woman beside them covered her mouth, a look of astonishment on her face.