Marine Captain Jase Thompson enjoyed Evaluation Team duty, and thisparticular assignment appealed to what his team members called hiswarped sense of humor. This had started out as an odd one; it was theArchbishop of Narvon III, rather than its Baron or the System Count,who had pushed the panic button. He'd appealed to the Emperor for abattle fleet, with a full complement of Security and Combat DivisionMarines, claiming civil war was breaking out because of something thatwas turning Narvon System's "best people" into "bloodsucking servantsof the Devil."
Captain Thompson had no idea what His Majesty thought about thesituation, but he was skeptical, himself. Still, no one asked for thatsort of intervention without some reason; it was up to the E-Team tofind out whether the reason was valid, and if so what degree ofintervention was really justified. He certainly didn't want to call ina fleet—no E-Team leader did—but he would if he had to. Then he'dhope that the Ranger or Fleet Admiral in charge overruled him; hedidn't like thinking what military occupation could do to the occupiedsystem. Not that the situation was likely to be that bad.
Thompson sighed, checking the clock and deciding he'd better get backto the bridge; the Koslov's Captain—Navy Lieutenant Inga Sanchez—should have the pre-landing surveillance reports for him by now.
She gave him a rueful shake of the head as he entered her small bridge."It's peaceful as Terra down there, Jase. No trace of active weaponry,no civil disturbances our sensors can detect, no fires involvingartificial substances—no nothing."
Thompson grinned. "Sounds good to me, Inga. What about news reports,entertainment broadcasts, that sort of thing?"
Sanchez grinned back. "Just as normal, except for a couple ofoddities. The holos aren't carrying any 'casts of contact sports, andon a talk show, one of the guests had fangs; the others were acting alittle nervous, but she was telling them how harmless she and the other`Kins of the Dragon' really were." Sanchez touched a control on the armof her command chair. "Watch."
The Captain's monitor screen lit up to show several people seated in agroup of comfortable-looking chairs around a low table, and Thompsonrepressed a chuckle. Talk shows seemed to be the same everywhere, hethought—then one of the guests caught his attention. She wasattractive, wearing the uniform of a System Security officer—Chief ofDetectives, from her badge—except that she was more than slim, shelooked damned near starved.
"How do you feel about the Kins who were killed, Chief Kaufman, andwhat do you plan to do with the ones who killed them?" a man—Thompsonguessed him to be the show's host—asked.
The woman shrugged slightly. "My personal feelings have no bearing; Iplan to deal with them as I would with any other murderers, how else?I am an officer of the law."
"You don't have any desire for revenge? After all, the killings wererather … unpleasant."
The detective chief grimaced. "Yes, they were. But I can't takerevenge, any more than I can feed on someone who doesn't want me to—itshould be common knowledge by now that Kins feel any pain wedeliberately inflict.