"Kristine Smith - Kilian 1 - Code Of Conduct" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Kristine)

Jani avoided looking at the ID at first, then grim fascination got the better of her. She
took the card
from Evan and stared at the image that smirked back.

Her hair had been longer then. A stick-straight, collar-grazing pageboy, rather than
the scalp-hugging
cap of waves she now bore, framed a rounder, less angular face. Fringed bangs
accentuated thicker eyebrows, an upward-curving nose.

Jani ran a finger along her current arched bridge. Her coloring hadn't changed,
though. Hair thick and black, then as now. Skin still light brown. Eyes ... still green.

Well, they areтАФI just don't show them to company. The black color filming she'd
applied the previous day felt scratchy in the dry air of the skimmer cabin. She
restrained the urge to rub her eyes and refocused on her image. Yellow lieutenant's
bars imprinted with tiny silver Ds shone from the sides of
her steel blue banded collar. Sideline yellow. Sideline Service. Not the real thing, her
mainline buddies
had stressed to her repeatedly. Real lieutenants, mainline lieutenants, had red bars.
She was a documents examiner. Ineligible for command school. Banned from
combat training. Not a real soldier.

Let us sing a song of real soldiers. Jani tossed the ID back in Evan's lap. "Too
little-girly, don't you think?"

Evan grabbed the card before it slid to the floor, polishing the places where his
fingers had smudged
the surface. "I always Hked it," he muttered defensively as he tucked it gently back
into the slipcase
and returned it to his pocket.

A few fidgety moments passed. Jani toyed with her empty cup. "I didn't see you on
the welcoming committee." She shrugged at Evan's puzzled frown. "That thing for
Tsecha. They broadcast the
holoVee show here today, but it happened over six weeks ago. Takes about that
long to get here
from Earth."

"JaniтАФ"

"Even sooner, when you can clear the nav paths by invoking ministerial privilege.
What are you
doing here?"
Evan tapped a thumb against the skimmer's steering wheel. He'd worked off his coat,
revealing the dress-down Interior uniform of loose-fitting black tunic tucked into
dark grey trousers. His profile,
backlit by the skimmer cabin's subdued lighting, now resembled his late father's in a
way Jani would
never have thought possible years before. From Acton to EvanтАФthe van Renter
hawk lives. Closely clipped dark brown hair accentuated his cheekbone, the curve of