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Cat Star Legacy #3 Read Kindle PreviewShe stole his freedomβ¦ He captured her heart Excerpt Moriconthan βMoeβ Tshevnoe sat alone at a table in a dusty bar on Haedus Nine choking down beer that smelled more like vrelnot piss than lager. He truly hated Haedus Nine. The climate was hot, dry, and oppressive, and its natives were ugly, devious, and inherently dishonest, which made it as good a place as any to pick a fight. Heβd been spoiling for a fight for months, an irritation of mood he couldnβt explain. But whatever it was, it made him want to beat the shit out of some deserving lowlife scumbagβor at least bite something. Hard. He was not a fighter by nature; nonetheless, his jaws clenched in anger for no other reason than the disgusting smell emanating from the occupants of the nearest table. This much anger wasnβt normal for him. Heβd always been considered the most sensible of his littermates, the lone voice of reason on many of his brothersβ escapades. He was cautious and methodicalβtraits that made him an excellent navigatorβbut his gut instincts were usually spot-on. Not that anyone ever actually listened to him. Over the years, heβd become quite adept at choking back the words I told you so to anyone foolish enough not to follow his suggestions. Perhaps that was his problem. Heβd just come from a run to Alpha Marcos where his current pilot, a Vessonian named Nevid Kairn, had ignored Moeβs reminder that the ship had a rather large communications dish on its forward hull. Having been scraped off by a low hangar bay door, that dish was now a crumpled mass of steel, useful only as scrap metal rather than a salvageable component. Moe could easily fly the ship himselfβhaving grown up on a starship, heβd been capable of manning every duty station by the age of sevenβbut being alone in space was, well, lonely. Unfortunately, Nevid wasnβt terribly good company. Maybe he was to blame for Moeβs current mood. No. I felt like this even before he signed on. The conversation at the next table had reached the ear-splitting level. A fistfight was imminent. Perhaps he could find an excuse to get into the fight. Thatβs what he needed. A good old-fashioned barroom brawl. It wouldnβt take much. One more tiny little annoyance and his anger would explode. The lone Herpatronian in a group that boasted no less than three Haedusians, two Kitnocks, and a Vetla took a swing at one of the Haedusians and missed, inertia causing his ape-like body to spin out of his chair, the fist on the end of his long, simian arm connecting with Moeβs shoulder. Thank the gods. Moe pushed back his chair and tore into the Herp like a fiend: fangs bared and hands balled into fists. Rather than join in the fray, the Haedusians actually started cheering. As Moe pummeled the momentarily astonished Herp, his companions tossed handfuls of credits on the table and began taking bets. Β Β He couldnβt blame the others for leaving the Herp to face him alone. With tall, cylindrical heads and limbs like toothpicks, Kitnocks tended to avoid altercations with species more sturdily built than they were. Vetlas were humpbacked with short arms that gave them virtually no reach whatsoever. The Haedusians themselves reminded him of birds, even to the extent that the malesβ clothingβif such tattered rags could be called thatβwas more colorful than the robes worn by the females. Overall, they were quite scrawny with long, spidery fingers, huge hooked noses, and beady little eyes. They seldom engaged in fisticuffs, evidently preferring to profit from the outcome rather than participate. Moe didnβt give a damn. After a brief protest that he had no bone to pick with Moeβa highly unusual statement for a Herpβthe creature was finally fighting back. Moe took a punch to the jaw that shouldβve at least broken a fang. He tasted blood and renewed his attack. He knew if he didnβt knock him out soon, the Herp would eventually overpower him. Getting in close was the best way to deal with a Herp, canceling their longer reach, but putting Moeβs sensitive Zetithian nose much too close to his opponentβs stinking brown pelt. Pouring months of pent-up rage into his fists, Moe didnβt bother pulling a knife or a pulse pistol. The Herp wasnβt unarmed, but that didnβt matter. Yet. βTake it out in the street!β the bartender roared as the Herp snatched a bottle from a nearby table and attempted to smash it over Moeβs head. With his catlike reflexes, Moe easily dodged the bottle, which went smashing into a row of bottles above the bar. Booze mixed with blue Morwellian cream oozed down the wall as two hulking Terrans shouldered through the gathering crowd. βHe said, take it outside,β snarled a heavily muscled bald man whose body was covered with more leather and tattoos than actual fabric. That was another thing Moe didnβt like about Haedus: the excessive heat tended to reduce the amount of clothing worn by offworlders, some of which should never have been seen in such a disgusting state of undress. Herps were the worst. The long cloths they wore wrapped around their pelvic areas looked more like diapers than anything and didnβt cover nearly enough of them. One of the Terrans grabbed the Herp from behind just as his diaper came undone, leaving an already hideous creature completely naked. βWhat has been seen cannot be unseen,β Moe muttered as a push from behind sent him sprawling, but only for a moment. With a quick roll, he jumped to his feet. As the bouncer wrestled the Herp toward the door, Moe ran after them, yelling, βIβm not done with him yet!β βOh, yes, you are,β said a feminine voice from behind him. Spinning around, Moe came face-to-face with a tall woman in a black hooded robe. At least, he assumed it was a woman. A pair of electric-blue eyes stared at him from inside the hood. However, unlike the usual Davordian, which was what he took her to be, her pupils were glowing vertical slits like those of his own feline eyes. βWho the devil are you?β he snapped. βWhy, the devil, of course.β The woman let out a hiss as the nozzle of a pulse pistol emerged from her robes. βNighty-night.β Without another word, she fired. The last thing Moe saw was her fangs as she smiled. Β Start Reading CAPTIVE Now Cat Star Legacy
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