“Fight!” You watch the girl for the slightest hint of movement. _Her hair is brown._ There is always a tell in these demonstrations that gives you a way past their defenses. “Well, get on with it,” the general’s voice is rough with annoyance. He’d ordered her to incapacitate this one. She puts her fists up, lose and weak, noddle arms. _Her eyes are green._ __ __ Her smile catches you by surprise, so much like a girl you knew before the wars and the training. Solidified air hits you in the jaw.