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convinced that she'd seen
    someone like Micayla before; she just couldn't remember where. One thing was certain--
    she'd never met one in person, and in her ten years on Orleon Station, she'd met beings from a hundred different worlds, though very few that were as attractive as Micayla's kind.
    Normally, she wouldn't have had the chance to become well acquainted with a
    communications officer like Micayla, who was among the station's elite; Windura was just the computer whiz who kept everything running smoothly--most of the time. She and her team were constantly putting out fires and were at virtually everyone's beck and call--
    with the result that Windura had at least a passing acquaintance with nearly everyone on the station, and that included the hookers. She'd revamped their "john" tracking system more than once, and Windura had to admit, it was pretty effective. Once a man entered their lair his biometric imprint was recorded into the Hooker's Network, and from then on, they knew who to kick out and who to invite back. They might not have actual names listed, but they knew every customer's preferences and habits, as well as his tipping record. The network wasn't advertised--in fact, Windura had been sworn to secrecy--but wrong one hooker, and you've wronged them all.
    Micayla's situation intrigued her. Windura couldn't begin to fathom what it would be like to feel as alone in the universe as Micayla must. Her own parents were teachers on Vessonia, and Windura knew exactly where they were and what they were doing,
    receiving deep space missives from them on a regular basis. She understood what it meant to be the only one of her kind on the station, but at least she knew what "kind" she was.
    Sitting down at her desk, she switched on the Orleon music loop's rock station and logged on to her computer. After an hour's fruitless search of the standard database, she
was about to give up when she decided to try a different tactic. Logging into the Hooker's Network with the password Layha had given her, along with the retinal scan the system required, she simply typed in the word "fangs."
    Holograms of some of the fiercest-looking creatures she'd ever seen popped up,
    some of which had actually passed through Orleon, but one in particular stood out from the rest. Yes, he was the one she remembered seeing before--probably during a previous check of the system. Male, of course, but his features were similar to Micayla's and he was every bit as handsome as she was beautiful, the orange streak in his black hair only adding to his attractiveness. The description of his sexual abilities was remarkable to the point of sounding like fiction--body fluids that could chemically trigger orgasms? That couldn't be true! But the hookers were known for their strict adherence to the facts. His performance and genitalia were second to none and he wasn't the kind to get too rough, but he had one other interesting talent: he could purr.
    A song began playing just then, one performed by a band Windura had never seen
    but had heard about. The lead singer was supposed to be the sexiest thing to hit the galactic music scene in a hundred years, one of a lost race of feline humanoids...
    Switching to the entertainment database, Windura finally found what she was
    looking for. Why it wasn't in the standard files was a mystery, but there he was, one of the few survivors of the destruction of the planet Zetith. According to a footnote, there were only six adult males known to exist. Any other remnants of that civilization had been tracked down and presumably killed by Nedwut bounty hunters. Though some had produced offspring with Terran mates, there was no mention of any female survivors; apparently none had ever been found--until now.

    ***
Lerotan viewed the list of new station regulations with distaste. "We'll have to leave soon," he told Rodan. "According to this, we can resupply and buy anything we like on Orleon, but we can't sell any of our