Vice Admiral Vivian Tivington's face had gone a little pale. As a master of administrative affairs and office politics, she could certainly hear the sarcasm in her colleague's words.
In the past, if some fleet staff chief—a greasy old man who had only made major general on the brink of retirement—had dared to act up in front of an "overseas-educated elite" like her, she would have shown him what it meant for a female boss to be fearlessly untouchable, and what the inscrutable superiority of the upper class looked like.
But times had changed. He had now proven his value to the cause of uniting the factions, while she was nothing but a groveling bitch. Fate was truly cruel!
Still, to be fair, there was no shame in being the Empire's dog. Half the universe was busy being the Empire's dog, so what did one woman amount to? Besides, besides, she had surrendered to protect the lives of her soldiers. Wasn't that far more respectable than all those kings of various races who bowed and scraped to the Dragon Kings?
All in all, as a highly educated senior officer with ample experience in office politics, Ms. Tivington was quite good at building herself a self-consistent rationale.
She also tried hard to convince herself that, although she was a prisoner of war, she was still human. As long as she could prove her worth, she could still have a bright future in the Empire.
...Perhaps an even brighter one than before.
And so, while the other surrendering troops from the Ring of Miracles were still being escorted to the Imperial heartland as prisoners of war, Vice Admiral Tivington was already hard at work. If nothing else, her self-reassurance and tireless energy would have made her a top sales manager in the