Zhao Chen looked at the culture pods before him, ranked dense as the cells of a beehive and all of them running. Mind you, the last time Zhao Chen had come here, a bare handful had been in operation.
Now every one of them was at work.
One after another the slender bodies of female crew were brought forth, and then the original consciousness poured back into them.
Watching those crew, Zhao Chen felt a weight settle in him.
All of this was owing to the lives given up in this last campaign.
In this one campaign, the three Owl Dragon Legions had lost, all told, upwards of near 500,000 Owl Dragon women of the crews.
All this while, this T4 Reviver-class Clone-Human Starship had worked without a moment's pause, and for one end only — to bring every one of those fallen women back again.
A workload on so vast a scale was a thing without precedent.
"How do matters stand at present?" Zhao Chen asked.
The rabbit-folk girl A-Yun gave a start, her ears standing straight up; she blinked once and then said, "The revival procedures are going very smoothly. By our estimate, another half day and every one of those lost in the earlier campaign can be brought back in full. In truth, going by the Reviver-class Clone-Human Starship's own speed, it could be settled inside a single day. But the weightiest problem is still where to place these people. Because half a month ago, at the first civil war, of the women revived then, half are still in convalescence. Two streams of women soldiers converging at once — there lies a problem of placement. So we can only hold the revival rate down by hand. Had Secretary-Officer Lilith not brought 30 T3 Andromeda-class Interstellar Medical Ships with her this time, there'd have been no bringing all these culture pods into operation at all."
"Have the revival figures been tallied?" Zhao Chen asked.
A-Yun at once called up a data file, and on it were set down the particulars of every revived woman of the crews, the circumstances each stood in at present, and the rest of it.
These fell, in the main, into several classes.
The first were those already revived and returned to work; after each was written the name she now went by and the post she held. Because the revived were, for the present, a classified matter, they would join the Owl Dragon Legion under a new identity and enter a wholly new setting. And they would be told that contact with friends and kin of the past was strictly forbidden.
Some might wonder — was there truly no chance of running into one another?
The Owl Dragon Legion was vast; its interstellar warships together came to tens of thousands, and a single warship was parcelled into a great many departments. There were those who might not, in a whole lifetime, come to know every comrade aboard the one ship they served in. So the meeting of old acquaintances was, in the main, not a thing that happened.
The second class were the revived whose spirits were in poor case, but who wished, all the same, to return to a combat post — and so stayed on in convalescence to be watched, and their condition studied further.
The third class was like the second, save that these had been judged never able to return to a combat post.
To the third class, several choices were generally given. The first was discharge: they might dwell on any planet in the Owl Dragon System and would receive wealth an ordinary person could not lay by in a dozen lifetimes — no great riches and honors, perhaps, but enough that they need never want for food or drink, and the finest work would be arranged for them besides. Or else they might choose a second- or third-line post within the Owl Dragon Legion — interstellar industrial ships, the Edens, the Goddess Academy-class ships, and the like.
The great majority of the women who bore the trauma of having died chose to go on giving what warmth and heat were left in them, at a second- or third-line post in the Owl Dragon Legion.
Then the fourth class: revived women of the crews in recuperation.
The fifth class were those still awaiting revival.
In this data of A-Yun's, every figure was set down.
"More than 1 million." Zhao Chen looked at the total and spoke low.
His Owl Dragon Legion, come this far, had lost more than 1 million of its people.
Were it not for the Reviver-class Clone-Human Starship, that million women soldiers would have died on the battlefield forever, and with their young lives.
Might there be, among them, someone close to him?
Charlotte? Lilith? Zhao Wan'er? Zhao Ruyue? Shen Bing?…
Zhao Chen dared not follow the thought.
Zhao Chen looked at the single most important row in the data.
That was the crew in recuperation and the crew awaiting revival — near 500,000 women soldiers between them.
It was a figure on a very great scale indeed.
"These revived women soldiers must be well provided for!" Zhao Chen looked gravely at the rabbit-girl A-Yun. "Whatever you have need of, we will meet it. They are heroes who have died once already for the growth of our Owl Dragon Legion. We cannot let their hearts go cold!"
All along, the rehabilitation training and the counseling of these women had taken no small quantity of resources — more, indeed, than the keeping of a woman soldier in sound health. But on outlay of that kind, Zhao Chen had always signed off at a stroke, and without a moment's hesitation.
"Let the Commander-in-Chief rest easy — I promise the task will be done!" A-Yun's eyes were red as she spoke, so moved was she.
No — hold on… weren't a rabbit's eyes red to begin with…
After that A-Yun took Zhao Chen through some of the convalescent quarters, and Zhao Chen went in person to comfort a number of the revived women, and to settle some whose feelings had got away from them.
There was no telling how many times his shoulder was lent out.
When Zhao Chen had finished comforting one of the crew, he caught sight, in the next bed over, of a figure curled up inside the blankets, her back turned to him on purpose, her head covered.
In truth Zhao Chen had long known who she was; one of his reasons for coming here at all was to see her.
Zhao Chen bent down, looked at the half-buried head, and to the one half of an ear that showed asked softly, "Wu Chun'er? What is it — has this Commander-in-Chief done something to displease you, that you're so unwilling to look at me?"
The breath and the voice at her ear went through Wu Chun'er like a shock.
She shot upright of a sudden and sat up in the sickbed, eyes faintly red, looking at the Commander-in-Chief.
"No… it isn't that… I… it's only that I haven't the face to see the Commander-in-Chief…"
Her ears, at this moment, were red clean through.
Zhao Chen narrowed his eyes. "Haven't the face? Why?"
"I… my T4 Paladin-class Heavy Interstellar Missile-Escort was… was destroyed… It brought a huge loss upon our legion… I… I—" Wu Chun'er hung her head in shame.
"A loss? Who says so?" Zhao Chen said, feigning anger.
"I know… the Paladin-class Heavy Interstellar Missile-Escort matters a great deal… I… I—" Wu Chun'er's voice was shaking.
Zhao Chen put out a hand and stroked Wu Chun'er's lowered head. "The Paladin-class Heavy Interstellar Missile-Escort matters a great deal, yes — even now the number our Owl Dragon Legion holds has only just reached 100!"
At which her head sank lower still.
But then Zhao Chen turned his words about. "But you matter more — to me, and to the Owl Dragon Legion. In the situation as it stood, had you not made a shield of your own ship, our Owl Dragon Legion would have lost more than it did! You ought to feel no shame at all. You ought to be proud — for you are a hero of the Owl Dragon Legion!"
So saying, Zhao Chen looked to Lilith behind him.
Lilith understood what was meant; she brought out a small box and opened it.
Within the small box lay a dragon-patterned petal medal.
"Raise your head! A commander of my Owl Dragon Legion, though she lie on a sickbed, should still hold a soldier's bearing!" Zhao Chen's tone came round to something formal.
Wu Chun'er at once, without thinking, threw out her chest and lifted her head; had her legs not still been weak under her, she'd likely have come straight to her feet on the floor.
Zhao Chen pinned that dragon-patterned petal medal at Wu Chun'er's breast.
"This is a special medal of our Owl Dragon Legion; every one of the revived has one. But it bears no name — just as you yourselves, for a stretch of time to come, will be without your own true names. Nor can this medal sit openly at your breast for others to see. There'll be no ceremony of triumph, no commendation in public; even your kin and your friends are, at this very hour, sunk in grief. But rest easy, all of you — you will have your own identities back before long. And then you'll wear this medal in the open and full view, and take the reverence in the eyes of every Owl Dragon crew member! You — are heroes!" Zhao Chen said, and there was no shaking him in it.
Wu Chun'er looked at the medal, and she wept.
In time to come, this medal too came to have its name.
The 'Medal of the Revived'.
One of the most honored medals the Owl Dragon Legion ever conferred, and a testament that no few Owl Dragon crew took pride in!