"Finally finished another star line," an imperial soldier lifted his glass and took a sip, looking very relaxed.
"This time, there's quite a haul—a gas giant filled with methane, perfect for a interstellar relay station, and a desert planet that, although uninhabitable, is suitable for an alien base."
"We've passed through the atmosphere, so let's not talk business anymore. Once every ten years for interstellar exploration, who knows how the family is doing," a bearded imperial soldier sighed.
"You're afraid your wife might cheat on you, oh, sorry, you don't have a wife."
"Who says I don't have a wife," the bearded man flared his nostrils and eyes: "I've got a whole cupboard full of wives."
"Have you heard? The empire has already developed bionic men that can carry personality chips, so your wives are long obsolete."
"Isn't that better—rise in rank, get rich, and lose a wife; his life is suddenly one-third complete."
