Paragraph: (Fiction-stories-masc-lw1-1.txt)
Sent 1: Rakal, her first officer, was staring pensively at his panel.
Sent 2: He was what this was all about.
Sent 3: She watched his graceful fingers ending in thick black claws tap out calculations on the panel.
Sent 4: His pointed ears swiveled back and forth, catching every sound from the bridge, while his long tail swished to the rhythm of his thoughts.
Sent 5: Only those of the Arrallin Insurrection inner team knew he was no common 'beta furry'.
Sent 6: His silken fur, which would be tawny golden and striped with jet black bands, was dyed perfectly to a pure black, and his mane trimmed and thinned as to be indistinguishable from the rest of his coat.
Sent 7: His eyes had been treated and darkened to a rich purple to disguise the brilliant golden yellow color that would mark him as an Alpha Arrallin, and leader of his hive.
Sent 8: Right now, he looked like an overgrown wolf who'd learned touch-typing.
Sent 9: The scout ship re-emerged from the hole - a brilliant speck emerging from a sphere of velvety blackness.
Sent 10: It's hail crackled across the comm, and Tara spun to retake her seat at the helm.
Sent 11: "Launch the second probe.
Sent 12: Won't Central be crushed to learn that another gateway has yielded little more than a class F planet and a white dwarf system.
Sent 13: Level 1 and 2 staffers should prepare to be briefed and move out.
Sent 14: This sounds like it's the one."
Sent 15: The distinctive whuffle of pleasure rippled through the betas on the bridge, and Rakal let loose a small growl, as if to caution his charges against false hope.
Sent 16: They'd scouted twenty-seven gates so far, and none had turned up anything worth the Insurrection's time.
Sent 17: Tara would not let giddy hopes drag them onto a rock that would spell the end for the project, and the Arrallin species.