The security interrogation chamber of Waystation #15 was cold, clean, and constructed from seamless plates of white starlight-steel.
At the center of the room, strapped into two heavy truth-resonance chairs, sat Plague-Alchemist Zorg and Patent-Attorney Atticus.
Their meridians were locked tight by starlight suppressor collars. Blue and gold resonance runes pulsed across the arms of their chairs, humming with the calm, incorruptible authority of the Heavenly Dao of Commerce.
Shen Qiaoqiao sat across from them behind a polished steel desk, her gold-rimmed glasses resting lightly on her nose.
Beside her, two heavy audit golems hovered silently, their crystalline optical sensors recording every blink, heartbeat, and micro-expression.
Shen Qiaoqiao smiled her sweetest, most pleasant dimpled smile as she poured two cups of hot jasmine tea.
“Drink some tea, gentlemen,” Shen Qiaoqiao said cheerfully, sliding the porcelain cups across the desk. “You look parched. Now, let us review your recent corporate conduct under Section Twelve of the Interstellar Maritime Security Charter.”
Attorney Atticus wiped nervous sweat from his brow, his curled wig askew. “Miss Shen, as a licensed barrister of the High Citadel, I demand immediate representation! You cannot hold corporate officers without a formal writ from Sovereign Harkon!”
