The Order of the Pon-Ju Warrior, pt 2: The Shadow Militia

“What finally made you leave?” the girl said to Grace. “Was it all the meditating? I hated the meditating.”

Grace Leung sat, mouth closed, staring at the blank, metal wall of the cargo hold they had stowed away in, trying to ignore the waking nightmare, the snarling and barking, that filled her ears but came from inside her head.

“Was it all the sex talk? They talk and talk and talk about how it’s so dangerous. And it’s like, man, stop talking about it for five minutes and maybe I can stop thinking about it, y’know?” She laughed at her own joke, a little too hard. Grace didn’t join her. The snarling was particularly loud.

The girl sitting across from her leaned against a shipping crate, staring at boxes and trunks. She had attached herself to Grace a few hours ago at the spaceport. She was a walking blot of black in her heavy cloak and hood, boots clopping on the tile. Once they’d snuck into the cargo hold, ceiling only tall enough to sit, she’d pulled back the hood and revealed a mop of hair that cycled through neon colours. It was green right that moment and would be yellow the next. Grace had caught herself staring at it as it slowly cycled, achieving the brightest blue, the most intense green. Then she’d notice the girl’s face, twitching with barely suppressed rage. Grace could feel she had a nightmare of her own.

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