Olivia chanced a glance over her shoulder at General Qingzhi. The stallion looked as bored as she felt, though he was good enough at hiding it that the civilians wouldn’t notice. But she had seen that vacant look many times—it was the expression of someone who had been taken outside their sphere of experience. Qingzhi didn’t care about how they kept his ship supplied, so long as there was food in the cupboards and railgun rounds in his magazines.