Nyx: Malache

Meet Nyx. She's alone on a remote world in the midst of an internecine struggle for resources. She's been ordered to kill someone who has not been identified. The nemesis who haunts her past is in charge of the opposition. An anthropologist wants her ass. A professional killer wants the rest of her. And she can't swim in the rivers.
She's a special operative with carte blanche to stack bodies like cordwood, if necessary, to accomplish her mission. Training and a dark past have emptied her of all emotions. Trust is a tool. Sex is a weapon. Loyalty is a blunt instrument. And there is no place whatsoever for sentiment in her work.
Until now.
Meet the Malasy. Lemuroid, humanoid, intelligent, sentient, sentimental. They are covered with chinchilla-like fur. Truth is a must in interpersonal relations, and erotic stimulation is the human equivalent of a handshake. Nyx has to work among them. Her life is about to change. It's dangerous, even fatal, to become her friend. But it is always fatal to be her enemy.