"How far are we from Zatis?" Solae inquired as soon as they had lurched out of the jump point closest to the planet in question. Stars and black holes were the anchor points, typically called 'horizons,' that allowed such quick interstellar travel. Occasionally there was a world only an hour or two away from one but it was never practically habitable. The marquise knew from experience it would take some time to arrive at their destination.

"Twenty-two hours and twenty-three minutes," Mia purred.

"Excellent. That gives me plenty of time to start dissecting the information I downloaded at the communications center," Solae announced as she squeezed Rene's hand and rose from her seat. There were a few different interfaces capable of porting in data collected and stored on external sources. Fortunately the cockpit's was within reach and had been previously tested when Mia herself was uploaded. The  diplomat used an unassuming thick cable to connect her device to [i]The Bonaventure[/i].

"Mia, can you extract everything on here for me? I think the hold is probably the best place to start making a map," she mused aloud. It would be difficult to much more than pilot or read quietly to herself in this miniature command center. While it might be efficient for steering the ship it would be woefully inadequate space for spreading out everything into a visual array.

"The hold, Lady Solae?" Mia asked breathlessly as if she lived for the sort of excitement that could come from decompressing figures and documents.

"I want to be able to make hand-written notations and plot all our evidence into something a little more complicated than can be handled in a conventional display," the noblewoman tried to explain. "It'll help me make sense of things and see the patterns that are more intuitive than statistical. I'd still like you to run your own analysis, Mia."

"What should I analyze, Lady Mia?" there was a sultry trill that sounded much more like genuine excitement than it ought to. Artificial intelligence was purposefully programmed as to not anything remotely similar to feelings no matter how accurately they emulated emotions. Solae was finding, however, that some clever coder had made Mia seem to [i]want[/i] to be put to use. Perhaps it was an invention meant to make users feel more at ease given commands, or because they didn't want their machinery 'complacently' idle, but it was nice to feel camaraderie with the computerized entity.

"We're investigating the murder Sir Rene was accused of. You and I know he is innocent but the rest of the universe does not. We're going to find out what ripples were caused by Amellia's death and Rene's presumed guilt. Flag any intersections- people who benefited from both even if indirectly. We want to correctly track social gains such as stature, monetary gains from trade agreement forged as a response to this crime, and we also want to track the losses. People are more likely to take a risk for a big reward than pure revenge," Solae prattled on as she made her way towards the hold. There weren't many writing instruments or loose sheets of paper but she would make do with what was available. She had always found scribbling things down manually in shorthand helped her recall more easily. All the genetic advancements in the Stellar Empire couldn't make learning and memorizing a completely effortless process.

"Understood, Lady Solae," Mia acknowledged.

By the time Solae had reached the hold and called up the data packet on her screen she was already overwhelmed with how much raw intelligence there was to process. Most, and regrettably maybe all, of it would be of little use in their endeavor. The murderer might be hiding among these little shreds of truth but most of Capella was innocent of any meddling with either the deceased handmaiden or her exiled paramour. With a flick of her hand she decided to focus first on the Du Quentain family themselves, starting with the patriarch. Her heart fell into her stomach as his image and attached article appeared in perfect clarity.

"Alric Du Quentain has wed..," she murmured. The notice was dated less than a year after Rene's enlistment. Given the standard length of engagements, either Rene's father had been planning this as soon as he heard his son was accused or he had rushed his betrothal. The former scenario would imply that the elder Du Quentain had never once believed that his heir was innocent of murder... or at least he was as good as guilty. The latter scenario would suggest some sort of societal or economic struggle that would compel a widower to finally marry. Few aristocrats wed for love and Alric did not strike her as a romantic figure.

Solae swore under her breath. "Mia, page Rene and tell him he needs to come here right now."

The space vessel was not so vast that it took much time to get from one area to another. Rene came jogging, his brow creased in concern, because Solae's message sounded urgent and that provoked worry from the paramour. Solae stepped in-between the soldier and the digitized portrait of his father that was in crisp color on the screen behind her. Although he could have glimpsed it there was little chance he could have caught more than a glance of the image- the text was too difficult to read without drawing closer.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Rene asked her.

"Rene, your father remarried and... had another child," she said as she took one of his hands into her own. He might be shocked. Rene might have even considered this might happen. Male nobility had their sperm frozen and stored at sexual maturity for a variety of practical reasons so there was no fertility issues in an older man; for all intents and purposes their genetic contribution was no different than if they were in their prime. All that was required is they find a woman or surrogate of child-bearing age. For the prestigious lineages there were many that would volunteer for a position because the union would net them power, influence, wealth, and a modicum of control through their progeny.