The kitten promptly skittered away from his clutching fingers, stopping a good six feet down the ledge. He reported in a barely audible voice, Corpsman Libby, sir. It ripped at his clothing, tore his breath from his lips. Never mind the legal shenanigans, Delos.
Nothing was left. Someone sat down on the foot of Wingate's bunk, crowding his broad fundamental against Wingate's ankles while he drew on his socks. They seemed to be arguing about something and were paying no attention to the racket. The small ship displayed the insignia of an admiral-yet there was no living thing of any sort in her.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.