And here was the transcript of the Waern claim. It looked too good.
He tossed the papers back to the desk. It was good, and he knew it. He'd seen the originals in the heraldric files. They were destroyed, of course. But here was a photo of that clan book!
And worse, here was the notice from the Resident Commissioner that the claimant had requested protective intervention from the Galactic Federation. That was really bad. He could remember his interview with the commissioner on that.
Jackson had always been something of a problem. He was a stubborn man. But up to now, he'd always backed down—if enough pressure was put on him. This time? Hah!
He'd come in, bringing that rancher—that Kent Michaels. Stern frowned.
Hadn't old Jake said that guy had been shot down—was dead?
He hadn't looked very dead. As councilor of the Waern clan, Michaels was supposed to be calling on Jackson for backing. Who, Stern wondered, was backing who? He recalled the interview.
They'd come in. And he'd started to establish dominance over Jackson.
Then that Michaels had butted in. He was worse than old Jake. What with one thing and another, he'd backed Stern into every corner in the office.
It had ended very simply.