The Line of the Sol Empress

Chapter 30

People tend to discount anything which might contradict their own wealth and social status.

- Writings of the Sol Empress, Words of Faith

[Diego]

The Board of Directors were pissed.

Diego stood at the end of the transparent glass table wearing a fine tailored black suit, hands clasped behind his back. He seethed behind a practiced calm exterior. Ungrateful cowards! I made them filthy rich.

This new Empress knew how to craft an image, Diego reluctantly allowed, first the showmanship on Elysium, and then the sensationalized scan-log interview. And most recently, she had upended Ephenia, threatening Consortium profits there. The image of her standing up a battle-bot spread like wildfire through the info-net, despite efforts to suppress it. Noisy protests against the Consortium had broken out across the Commonwealth worlds.

It still baffled Diego how this young woman escaped the carefully crafted trap. How did she overcome two squads of Commonwealth Marines and turn certain defeat into a victory?

Each Director was a Chief Executive Officer of a corporation within the trade group, elected to the board by their peers. Diego hardly listened as they continued their blustery bickering. But this was all for show, a demonstration to shareholders of their 'leadership' in times of business crisis. Sometimes, they were worse than the politicians. He smiled inwardly, since there was no fear of losing his position as Chairman. Too much damaging evidence against most of those present laid safely in Diego's possession; whether illegal activities, morally questionable behavior, or socially embarrassing situations. If that was not enough, private threats would do.

Twelve pairs of eyes glared at him after the arguments and accusations faded. The caustic silence filling the room jerked Diego from his thoughts. Someone asked, "Well, Mr. Diego, what do you have to say?"

"My friends, now is not the time to panic." Striking a thoughtful pose, Diego put a hand to his styled beard. "The last decade has seen an unprecedented expansion of the Trade Consortium, and with it, profitability. In the cycles of business, temporary downturns are inevitable. We merely need to stay the course and ride out this storm. Never before has the Trade Consortium held so much of the inter-world shipping market share. The worlds of the Commonwealth depend on us for their own prosperity. We must remind them of that." Forcefully, if needed.

A woman with bright red hair pulled tightly into a bun jumped up. "What about this new Empress, and the allegations--"

"They are false!" Diego glared at the woman, leaning forward with his hands on the table. "The situation will eventually resolve itself and this Empress will become little more than a footnote in the history books. If you do not have the fortitude for this business, Director, perhaps someone else should take your place." The woman gulped and shrunk down into her chair.

"Any other objections?" Diego scanned the Directors with narrowed eyes, one by one. Hearing none, he said, "Good. This meeting is over!" He stormed out of the board room.

Diego knew they expected him to handle the situation, but had no desire to know the details, code for plausible deniability. And handle it, I will.

He fumed as he made way back to his office, shoving aside an unfortunate aide who crossed his path. Let this little Empress have her little successes! Elysium and Ephenia are insignificant in the grand scheme, hardly a round-off error in Trade Consortium profits. When the Commonwealth battle group arrives, her influence will end.

As Diego passed through the ornate lobby outside his office, his young administrative assistant said, "Sir, the Empress Pro-Tempore is on the com. Shall I put her through?"

Not her again. "Fine," he grumbled, storming past the massive dark wooden doors that led to his office.

"What is it, Ali?" Diego grumbled to a life-sized holographic image that appeared in the middle of the large office. He tilted an eye at her, then turned his attention to pouring whiskey into a crystal tumbler. She wore the traditional white flowing gown of the Sol Empress.

"Is it true, Diego? Is this woman the daughter of Iona?"

He waved his hand as if the dismiss the allegations. "Pure fabrication, I assure you. Do not fall for the ruse. It is an attempt at deception by the Confederacy and their terrorist arm, Free Dawn. That poor girl may actually believe it herself."

"Are you so sure? Priestess Larren attested to the accuracy of the Signet test. And twice more, she passed it. Many of my Priestess' believe she is the true Empress, and they ask some uncomfortable questions."

Diego took a sip of the whisky. "There is a simple explanation. No test is completely infallible. They found a way to beat it."

Ali drew her lips tight. "And the charges Celeste Ciel made against you--"

"Lies!" Diego roared, baring his teeth and slamming down his drink on a table. Amber liquid sloshed across the polished marble surface. Ali jerked back at the ferocity of his sudden rage, her hands flying up. "You are the Empress! Get your Priestess' in line!"

"But..." she stammered.

"And I expect a strong public statement from you condemning this false Empress." He pointed at her, drawing his eyes to dark slits. "Remember, your title includes the term 'Pro-Tempore'. You can be replaced!" With a hand motion, he terminated the communication. Or worse.

Diego took a deep breath, turning to gaze out the expansive window of his penthouse office. Celeste Ciel was his most immediate problem — yet again. The Commonwealth forces captured her, but their unfortunate adherence to constitutional rights of fair trial presented another issue. He could not afford to have that rogue Priestess air her charges against him and the Trade Consortium in a public trial.

A beep came from Diego's tablet viewer, a call from his Security Chief. With a touch of a button, Diego said, "Tell me you have good news, Mr. Bernde."

"Yes, sir," a deep baritone voice replied. "We have located Celeste Ciel. She is in the brig on the Commonwealth Transport Arcadia, bound for Vers Nederland."

Diego's eyebrows lifted. "And do we have an operative on board?"

"Yes, sir."

A smile crept over Diego's face. "That is good news indeed, Mr. Bernde. You know what to do."