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. "Interesting, don't you think?"
Interesting. And, yes, damn it, it was like Rowan. Always trying to put some sort of cosmic spin on every ball, whether he sank it or not. Seeing himself as a god. Saving the world. But he'd gone too far. Decided he was above the law; above the ordinary, the little people. Above honor, friendship, loyalty .... Yeah, it figured, Xris tried to tell himself.
Except it didn't. Not Rowan.
Xris glared at the file, frustrated. He'd come expecting answers to his questions. More that, really, than expecting to find Rowan. If I could just understand ....
"So, you know where he... she lives... his... her place of employment?" Xris found this all very confusing. "In the file."
The cyborg glanced through, gave a low whistle.
"Now you see my problem," Wiedermann remarked. "I don't give a damn about the bureau. I don't want trouble from the Royal Navy."
"You've got a point," Xris conceded.
Nine years ago, the galaxy had been under the control of powerful Warlords, who had each ruled his or her sector of space with enormous battle cruisers, destroyers, spaceplane carriers, fleets of spaceplanes. Since the return of the king, the Royal Navy was now the most powerful force in the aniverse--a force to be reckoned with, run by a man Xris 'knew well. Knew and admired. Lord of the Admiralty, Sir John Dixter.
Xris had worked for both Dion Staffire--now His Majesty the king--and John Dixter in the past
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