Empire Reborn (Taran Empire Saga Book 1): A Cadicle Space Opera by A.K. DuBoff (jenna bush book club TXT) 📕

chest, Jason realized this was the kind of time when he would have messaged Tiff to meet up and talk about everything that was going on. Wait, why should now be any different? Either we’re still friends or we’re not. Sure, the physical aspect of their relationship had ended, and some emotional intimacy would go along with it, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t vent to each other about life’s bad moments. The sooner they could establish a rapport under the new normal, the better.

He typed out a message on his handheld. >>Hey! I hope you’re settling in okay. Don’t feel pressured to respond, just wanted to wish you the best.<<

To his surprise, he got a response right away. >>Available for a video chat?<<

>>Sure.<<

His screen lit up with an incoming vidcall. He accepted it on the holographic display.

An image of Tiff appeared, a light in her eyes as she brushed her hair behind her ear. “I had been wondering if you would show up at the port anyway.”

He shrugged. “I was just passing through.”

She flashed a coy smile. “I’m glad the timing worked out. It was perfect.”

“You know, if you wanted me to see you off, you could have just asked.”

“Nah. It’s better to know you care.”

“Tiff, of course I do. You’re one of my best friends, no matter what.”

She beamed. “You too. I was afraid… things would change.”

“Of course it will. But I’m never going to stop caring.”

“I won’t, either.”

They could be happy together, he knew. Their relationship had a more solid foundation than a lot of marriages he’d witnessed growing up. Nonetheless, there would always be something missing there. That romantic spark that elevated a couple from good partnership to one where life would become meaningless without one another. It was a rare, powerful thing; Jason had seen it up close with the couples in his immediate family, so he knew it was possible. He’d never particularly aspired to have that for himself, but if he was going to commit to someone for life, that’s what it would take. To stay with Tiff would mean closing off the possibility of either of them finding that kind of connection for themselves. They were too young and had too much life ahead of them to settle for anything less.

“This distance thing is going to take some getting used to,” he admitted.

“Yeah, I know.” She sighed. “It… it is what it is.”

“You don’t have to explain, Tiff. I get it. I feel it, too. I just don’t want to see anything come between our friendship. So, just like you did what needed to be done, I’m here now making sure we push through until this is no longer awkward.”

She laughed softly. “Okay, thank you. So, uh… how are things?”

“Oh, nothing unusual. Trying to figure out how to prevent an alien invasion and simultaneous collapse of the Empire. Everyday stuff.”

“Nice. About what I expected. Glad things haven’t fallen apart without me.”

“Yeah, who would have guessed you being at Headquarters was the singular thing holding the Empire together? The day you decide to leave… BAM!” Too bad he was only half-joking.

“I think the civilization will recover.”

“At least, if it doesn’t, we won’t be around to worry about it anymore.”

Her eyebrows drew together in concern. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m not projecting relationship woes on the galactic state of the Empire, if that’s what you’re asking. There’s serious shite going on.”

Tiff grinned. “Hey, look at you! Swearing like a proper Taran now, huh?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m working on it.”

“But in all seriousness, I know you’ll find a way to beat whatever fokers are trying to take down the Empire. The High Commander is foking Wil Sietinen—the guy who won an unwinnable war and solved the unsolvable equation for subspace travel. You’re his son, and you’re every bit as capable. If I had to put money on a team who could do the impossible, it would be you.”

“I’ll try not to let you down.”

“I know you won’t.”

It wasn’t much of a pep talk, but it had eased some of the heaviness in his chest. “Thanks, Tiff.”

“Anytime.” She grinned.

“Now, I want to hear all about your new post.”

—     —     —

Is it possible MPS is in trouble? Wil had always placed faith in the stability of the High Dynasties. It was the foundation of the Taran Empire, really. They were a monolith of society. Dynastic heirs were raised from infancy to be effective leaders. The services the family members and their corporations provided were the cornerstones of the civilization’s operations.

Wil’s position in the TSS had kept him away from the politics on Tararia for the most part, especially once Raena had stepped in as Cris’ official scion. Therefore, his relationships with the Taran elite were cordial but distant.

In the case of Monsari, Wil had loose blood ties via his paternal grandmother, but he wasn’t close with his distant cousin who now sat as the Head of the Dynasty. Nonetheless, a personal connection—albeit third cousin once removed—was better than nothing at all. Even so, he would be hard-pressed to overcome Celine Monsari’s profound distaste for those with telekinetic abilities. Before the Priesthood’s fall, she’d even gone so far as to say the Gifted were ‘abominations’ that should be removed from the gene pool. She’d had to change that tune with the birth of her 8th Generation granddaughter recently, particularly with scions of other High Dynasties now publicly joining the TSS. Perhaps, as a result, their next conversation would be more pleasant than the last.

Wil opted to settle on the couch in the center of the High Commander’s office, facing the large viewscreen on the wall, rather than initiate the communication from his desk. He reasoned the cozier backdrop might make him seem more approachable.

Thirty seconds passed while he waited for