Chapter 31

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Transforming an enemy into an ally is a far greater victory than to defeat them.

- Writings of the Sol Empress, Words of Faith


[Celeste]

Celeste sat cross-legged on the hard floor with her hands on her knees, palms up. Eyes closed, she pulled deep slow breaths, but meditation proved difficult with all the concerns that weighed on her mind. Hope and Gabriel, my children, did they escape? And Eshe? Moon, my love, I am so sorry to have abandoned you again.

Celeste opened her eyes and sighed, taking in her surroundings, like countless times before. The small brig was comfortable enough, but the decorating scheme was best described as monochrome drab. Everything was plas-steel gray — from the walls and slotted door, to the narrow slab bed and built in chair, to the sink and commode. Even the blanket and her loose-fitting garb were gray.

She jerked as the cell door creaked open. At the entrance stood a grizzled man with a trimmed white beard, wearing a dark blue uniform of the Commonwealth military. The gold bars on his high flat collar indicated a mid-rank officer. But Celeste found no hint of malice in the light blue eyes that scanned her.

"May I come in, Ms. Ciel?" he said.

"Please do, sir," Celeste responded as she stood. "I would welcome a visitor."

The man strolled in with hands clasped behind his back. A guard, a young woman who seemed too small for her uniform, closed the door behind him and waited just outside, peering through the plas-steel mesh. Standard procedure, Celeste surmised. There were always at least two present when questioning a prisoner.

"I am Commander Alistair Miles, captain of the Commonwealth Transport Arcadia. I trust you have been treated well, Ms. Ciel?"

She nodded. "Considering the circumstances, I have. Your guards have acted with the highest degree of professionalism. And I thank you for that, Commander."

He lifted an eyebrow, adding another wrinkle to his forehead. "You express gratitude to your captors?"

"A mind toward gratitude is a powerful catalyst, Commander, even expressed to an enemy." Celeste replied, paraphrasing a passage from the Writings. "Although, I do not consider you my enemy."

"Who is your enemy, Ms. Ciel?"

She narrowed her eyes. "The leadership of the Trade Consortium and every corrupt official who bends to their will. What are your orders pertaining to me, Commander?"

"I am to deliver you safely for trial on Vers Nederland, Ms. Ciel."

"I pray you do, Commander. But I fear I will not make it there alive."

The Commander bristled at the implied accusation. "I assure you, Ms. Ciel, no harm will come to you on my ship."

"I believe your intentions are honorable, sir. But how well do you know your crew? And what happens after I arrive? The Consortium's tendrils run deep, Commander. They will not allow me to come to trial, that I firmly believe. My defense would reveal what they wish to remain hidden."

The Commander paced the floor, back and forth in thought. "I saw your Outlander interview. Is what you said true? The Chairman and the Prime Minister themselves called it false." His eyes bore into hers. He looks for signs of deception.

Celeste smiled, shaking her head. "How do I answer such a question? A liar and a truth-teller would answer the same. I cannot make you trust me, only speak the truth as I know it. So I tell you, Commander, every word was true. I am no terrorist, rather through me continued the Line of the Sol Empress."

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