The Line of the Sol Empress

Chapter 34.1

There are times when duty stands in conflict with honor, where loyalty contradicts integrity.

- Writings of the Sol Empress, Words of Faith

[Celeste]

The Transport Ship Arcadia held a crew of ten, but also carried forty-two Commonwealth military men and women as passengers, most going home after completing a tour of duty, plus one high-profile prisoner. But except for her monitoring anklet, Celeste did not feel like a prisoner, having been given her own quarters and free rein of the ship. She was treated well here, but the fears of what awaited at Vers Nederland were never far from her thoughts.

Celeste told the tale of the new Empress to any who would listen, and many did. With the Commander's permission, she even arbitrated personal disputes between passengers and taught from the Writings, something a Sol Priestess would do.

While lying on her bed, Celeste noticed a subtle change in the ship and she sat up. The faint bass hum of journey stopped and a slight jarring shook her room. Something is happening.

Commander Alistair Miles knocked on her door and, at her bidding, took one step within. Over the journey, they had become friends, at least as far as his rigid adherence to duty allowed. She had come to deeply respect his sense of honor. Sometimes during meals that they took together or during spirited philosophical discussions, she glimpsed through his formal shell to see a good man's heart.

He announced, "You have a visitor."

"Who is it?"

"The Chairman of the Trade Consortium, Gideon Diego."

Celeste choked back a breath. The Writings warned of hatred and the desolation it brings, but if any man deserved to be hated, it was Diego. Long ago, with the help of purposeful meditation, she had stuffed her rage into a sealed vessel deep within her mind. But now, with but the mention of his nearby presence, it threatened to explode like a sealed pot over a hot fire.

"Celeste, are you well?" The Commander's eyes showed genuine concern, despite her status. "If you wish, I will send him away."

With deep breaths, she mindfully relaxed the tightened muscles in her face and opened her fists, signs that must have warned Alistair of her distress. "No." Celeste shook her head. "I wish to hear what he has to say. But I ask that you would be present as well." To keep me from killing him with my bare hands.

"Of course."

Diego had aged since Celeste's last personal encounter with him at Sanctuary, or at least allowed himself to appear that way to cultivate an air of experienced wisdom. Streaks of silver marked his feathered dark hair and signature trimmed beard. He wore an expensive suit over a silky stiff-collared shirt, all dark colored, fitting of his high status. Two guards in black uniforms with conspicuously empty holsters at their waists followed him into the galley, where Celeste and Alistair waited. The Commander must have prohibited weapons.

Turning to the Commander, Diego drew down his eyebrows and scowled. "Why is this criminal not confined?"

"Prisoner security is my purview, Mr. Chairman." Alistair answered curtly.

"I will speak to Ms. Ciel alone, Commander."

Alistair took a step closer to Diego, standing tall. "No, sir. Regulations require an observing party during interrogations."

"Oh, it is not an interrogation, just a chat, Commander."

"Any conversation between an accused criminal and a Trade Consortium official would be viewed as an interrogation by the court, sir. Also, as such, this chat is being recorded."