Celeste let out a little sigh, tried to hide it as a yawn and failed. Nobody noticed. These political meetings were so boring. At least, on this occasion, the general her father was meeting with was a handsome one, and one of the younger generals too. General Alistair Clark had distinguished himself in battle and earned the title several decades ahead of most of his peers. Vector Prime had been a rogue planet when he began his career. Under his hand, it had flourished into one of the most profitable element mines in the System. Parts of her dress were spun from metals found in Vector Prime’s rust red caves. She fingered the folds of the fabric, enjoying how fine and smooth it felt beneath her fingertips.
“Are we boring you, Lady Celeste?”
The general’s voice rumbled through her, provoking a burst of adrenaline which shocked her out of the inspection of her dress and made her look at him properly for the first time. She had become accustomed to ignoring illustrious figures, figuring one general was much like another. The fact that he had addressed her so directly, with a hint of humor as well as censure in his deep voice shattered that illusion instantly.
Alistair was quite a singular looking man, with dark hair slicked back over a powerful skull, a broad face and even broader body. He wore the close fitting dark armor of his post which followed the lines of his body, hard plates marking each of his muscles in what amounted to a jigsaw of masculinity. War had left its mark on him, he had quite a noticeable scar on the left side of his face which made his left eye a pale version of the dark right. He was a man built for power, both physical and political, unlike her father who was a short, slight man well versed in manipulation and little else. Seeing them together was almost comical, a fact which no doubt raised her father’s ire from the outset. Read more