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By David Weber

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Totally, Admiral," Harris stated, and adjourned the assembly. bankruptcy ONE The fluffy ball of fur in Honor Harrington's lap stirred and placed forth a around, prick-eared head because the regular pulse of the shuttle's thrusters died. a fragile mouth of needle-sharp fangs yawned, after which the treecat became its head to treat her with huge, grass-green eyes. "Bleek? " it requested, and Honor chuckled softly. "'Bleek' yourself," she stated, rubbing the ridge of its muzzle. the fairway eyes blinked, and 4 of the treecat's six limbs reached out to grip her wrist in feather-gentle hand-paws. She chuckled back, pulling again to begin a playful tussle, and the treecat uncoiled to its complete sixty-five centimeters (discounting its tail) and buried its true-feet in her midriff with the deep, humming hum of its purr. The hand-paws tightened their grip, however the murderous claws—a complete centimeter of curved, knife-sharp ivory—were sheathed. Honor had as soon as noticeable comparable claws used to tear aside the face of a human silly adequate to threaten a treecat's better half, yet she felt no predicament. other than in self-defense (or Honor's safeguard) Nimitz may not more damage a person than flip vegetarian, and treecats by no means made blunders in that appreciate. She extricated herself from Nimitz's take hold of and lifted the lengthy, sinuous creature to her shoulder, a stream he greeted with much more enthusiastic purrs. Nimitz was once an previous hand at house trip and understood shoulders have been out of bounds aboard small craft below strength, yet he additionally knew treecats belonged on their partners' shoulders. That was once the place they might ridden because the first 'cat followed its first human 5 Terran centuries sooner than, and Nimitz used to be a traditionalist. A flat, bushy jaw pressed opposed to the head of her head as Nimitz sank his 4 reduce units of claws into the in particular padded shoulder of her uniform tunic. regardless of his lengthy, slender physique, he used to be a hefty weight—almost 9 kilos—even lower than the shuttle's unmarried gravity, yet Honor was once used to it, and Nimitz had discovered to maneuver his middle of stability in from the purpose of her shoulder. Now he clung without problems to his perch whereas she amassed her briefcase from the empty seat beside her. Honor used to be the half-filled shuttle's senior passenger, which had given her the seat simply contained in the hatch. It was once a pragmatic in addition to a courteous culture, because the senior officer was once continually final to board and primary to go out. The go back and forth quivered lightly as its tractors reached out to the seventy-kilometer bulk of Her Majesty's area Station Hephaestus, the Royal Manticoran Navy's ideal shipyard, and Nimitz sighed his aid into Honor's short-cropped mass of feathery, darkish brown hair. She smothered one other grin and rose from her bucket seat to twitch her tunic instantly. The shoulder seam had dipped lower than Nimitz's weight, and it took her a second to get the red-and-gold army shoulder flash with its roaring, lion-headed, bat-winged manticore, spiked tail poised to strike, again the place it belonged. Then she plucked the beret from lower than her left epaulet.

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