Admiral Brosoth nodded.
"Of course, Commander. My children have been simply raving about your Venator ever since I arrived."
Commander Venata smiled, glancing at the sibling who was staring at Lt. Lincoln.
"Ah, yes. Apologies, this is my head of security, Andrew Lincoln. He has a habit of becoming a statue when he's left alone."
The Admiral barely heard the attempt at humor. He was too busy staring at the giant. Andrew was standing close to 205 cm, a veritable titan, compared to the Admiral's 182 cm. He'd never seen such a large human before, and he couldn't help his stare.
Commander Venata was still smiling, obviously pleased at the reaction to his head of security.
"I'm sure you see why he is my head of security.
However, Andrew is not the most interesting thing the Venator has to offer. If you would follow me."
The family snapped out of their daze, the children blushing, the admiral clearing his throat, and stepped quickly to match pace with the Commander. Brosoth matched Venata's pace. He couldn't help himself and asked the question.
"Where in the void did you find him!?"
The Commander chuckled, glancing at Andrew who was now trailing the party, maintaining a straight face.
"He is a native of some heavy gravity world, I can't remember which. He prefers not to mention it, so good luck getting an answer. He has been with me since just a few years after I transferred into the Reserves. We started as shipmates aboard a mining barge, and eventually ended up in command of the Sheffield, my first independently owned star ship. Andrew insisted on signing on, although he didn't have enough experience for First Mate, so he became the head of security."
The Commander chuckled in apparent reminisce.
"He once picked up this Imperial Merchie, who was holding us for some Valkium, by the throat and threw him across the bar."
The Admiral chuckled along, wondering at the balls someone had to have to bother someone accompanied by such a man.
While they spoke, they walked through the southern corridor, coming to a stop in front of a pair of sliding doors.
The Commander stepped to the front of the party, his back facing the doors.
"This is the elevator, which will take us to the Residential Level, a place I'm sure your children have mentioned at some point."
The Admiral nodded, and he noticed his children were silently hopping from one foot to the other in obvious excitement.
The Commander turned as the doors behind him opened, and they all stepped through.
The ride was short, and a moment later they all stepped out of the elevator into a lobby.
The Commander stepped forward again, gesturing around the room.
"I'm sure you're wondering what a bounty hunter is doing with a place like this on his ship."
The Admiral nodded, looking around at the very real wooden furniture, the high ceilings, the expensive-looking art, and the marbled floor. He knew that such things weren't actually that expensive, especially to a successful bounty hunter, but usually, these things were on pleasure yachts or cruiser liners, not a Destroyer.
"I must say I am surprised at the luxury you've added."
The Commander nodded, gesturing them to follow him down one of the corridors, talking as they went.
"Well, I'm sure you know that bounty hunters don't just go after bad guys, although that is what we are known for. We also offer services like escort or transport. I had a stretch of anonymous passengers who chartered my ship to take them from A to B, and in the middle, I added these decorations. Afterward, I noticed a noticeable uptick in contracts and offers. So, I spent more money making this level."
They continued down the hall, stopping a moment later at a door. The Commander placed a hand against it, and the Door's perimeter flashed green and slid open.
Inside was an apartment. The Admiral stepped through the door after the Commander and looked around in wonder.
The room they'd entered had a living room complete with a couch, coffee table, and recliner. The furniture was facing one wall, which had projection nodes signifying the presence of a wall screen. The Commander mumbled something and an image of a snowy mountainside appeared. The Admiral gasped at how real the image was. Digital imaging technology had come a long way, but the screen he was looking at somehow made him feel as if he was standing just meters from the edge of the mountain.
The Commander turned and continued forward, leading the oddly silent party into a large kitchen, complete with stoves, a microwave, a refrigerator, wood cabinets, and marble countertops. Such things weren't necessary with the Food Printer embedded into the wall, but the Admiral was aware that some people preferred the hands-on approach to cooking.
The Commander stopped, turning to face the awestruck family.
"This is our two-bedroom apartment, optimally designed to serve the needs of two or three guests. There are two bedrooms..."
He gestured to two doors on either side of the living room.
"...one bathroom..."
He again gestured to another door off to the side of the kitchen.
"... and a storage closet."
He gestured once more to a smaller door in the corner of the room.
"This is our cheapest room, meant for the more regular customers we might have. This entire corridor has rooms like these, meant to house a large number of people.
We have other, more opulent rooms, but you don't need to see those."
Admiral Brosoth was beginning to think Commander Venata was some Imperial Scion sent to mess with him.
He'd seen the Rail Guns and Missile Launchers from the AV when they'd arrived with enough firepower to hold off pirates. Now, he was being told that this ship was also able to house and serve all manner of guests like some sort of luxury cruise.
The Commander waited for a moment, letting them look around, before recalling their attention and making their way back to the lobby.
Once inside the elevator again, the Commander spoke.
"I've spent a lot of money making sure the Venator can meet the needs of any Contract I accept. The next place we'll see will touch on the more violent side of the business."
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened to the sound of gunfire.