Empire Reborn (Taran Empire Saga Book 1): A Cadicle Space Opera A.K. DuBoff (guided reading books TXT) 📖

the call to be accepted. When the screen resolved into an image, it was of a young man rather than Celine.

“Office of Celine Monsari. How may I assist?” the man asked.

“Williame Sietinen, High Commander of the TSS. I’d like to speak with Celine.”

The young man’s olive eyes widened the slightest measure at Wil’s name and then narrowed when he spoke of the TSS. “She’s asked not to be disturbed.”

“Is she meeting with anyone right now?”

“No—”

“Then please put my call through.” Wil had to work to keep the annoyance out of his tone. Almost anyone else would have immediately passed through a communication marked from someone of his social station. He didn’t like to pull rank on people, but common decency was expected.

“One moment.”

Wil couldn’t help noting the lack of a ‘sir’ or ‘my lord’. He disliked honorifics as a rule, but this felt like an intentional personal slight.

The screen went to the Monsari crest of a glowing orb against a black backdrop.

When the image returned, a stern woman in her fifties was staring back, looking none too pleased. “Williame Sietinen. I’m surprised to hear from you.”

“Hello, Celine. I should state upfront that I’m calling on behalf of the TSS, not my family.”

“I never know with you lot anymore. You seem to have worked your way into every corner of the Empire’s dealings.”

“We serve the people. If they decide they don’t want us in those roles, we’ll make no effort to cling to them.”

“You must be pleased with the latest election polls.”

“Our only pleasure is in a job well done.”

She gave a mirthless smile and slight nod. “Yes, of course.”

The Monsari Dynasty had had more leadership turnover than most. It wasn’t uncommon for Heads to remain at their post into their eighties or nineties, skipping a generation and passing on leadership to their grandchildren. Monsari, however, tended to only have a Head remain for twenty-some years before the next generation took over. By contrast, Wil’s grandfather had remained as the Head of Sietinen for six decades. It would be interesting to see how tenure evolved under the new governance system established after the Priesthood’s fall.

“As I was saying, I wanted to reach out on behalf of the TSS,” Wil continued. “We’ve begun an investigation into the incident involving the Andvari.”

Celine tensed too quickly at the mention of the name. “Oh? What does that have to do with us?”

“Based on the documentation we’ve reviewed, it appears that the Andvari was under contract with one of your subsidiaries.”

“We have dozens of subsidiaries and thousands of independent contractors. I don’t keep track of all of their dealings.”

“But you have heard about this particular incident?”

“Yes, of course. The board makes a point to be aware of any situations resulting in a serious injury or casualty. For continuous improvement purposes.”

Right, ‘continuous improvement’. More like ass-covering. Wil nodded. “Naturally. So, I imagine that this review included a briefing on the nature of the ship’s contracted business.”

“An overview.”

“How do you account for the Andvari being in the Kyron Nebula?”

“Salvage.”

“Yes. But it was in restricted territory.”

“They weren’t authorized to go there.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you or any of your subsidiaries would skirt legality in such a manner. I’d only like to know what they had been contracted to do,” Wil pressed.

“Salvage, as I said.”

“Salvaging what, though? They were in a remote, restricted area.”

“Ship scrap.” Her gaze was slightly unfocused, as if she was resisting the urge to look away. No doubt, her statements were lies.

“I could see DGE ordering that kind of operation, but what interest does MPS have?”

“That’s not relevant. They had a quota to deliver, and the consequences of how they went about accomplishing that objective is on them alone.”

Wil wasn’t sure what to make of the woman’s hedging. It didn’t take a telepath—or even a trained investigator—to tell that she was hiding something significant. Frankly, he expected more poise from a seasoned politician.

“I was in no way suggesting their deaths were your fault. I’m simply trying to understand the circumstances.”

“I have nothing more to say on the matter. Best of luck with your investigation.” She ended the call.

Wil leaned back in his chair, staring at the blank screen. Whenever the High Dynasties weren’t forthright, much bigger issues weren’t far behind. Time to take another tactic to get answers.

CHAPTER 11

Jason savored the crisp air flowing into his flight mask as he soaked in the view of the starscape around him. No workout would ever provide an outlet for his nerves in the way running maneuvers in a fighter could. He’d rather be out in the real thing, but the simulator was an acceptable substitute for now.

“I saw a lot of sloppy maneuvers out there on the practice course, so we’re going back to basics on maneuvers, practice tightening them up,” Jason said. “Get in your squad formations and watch.”

He moved his simulated craft in an example pattern through the course. “See how the curves connect? Always be looking at least two moves ahead. Set yourself up for the next maneuver.”

He backed off his craft to a good vantage for watching the students run the simulated course. In turn, he had the members of each squad go, offering real-time feedback to each student.

“That’s better. I can tell you’re more confident in these sims than out in the black. Practice will improve that,” he said after the final student had completed their run of the course. “For now, though. Let’s mix things up.”

Jason loaded in a new course, this time one that required more aggressive transitions between the different obstacles. He’d noticed that several of the students were too loose, so this would push their comfort zone. Alisha should excel, so long as she didn’t try to clip the corners.