Sekrit Projekt has come into a first full draft (with some minor revisions) at 11,200 words. Eine kleine Space Opera. That’s what I did with my day, at any rate. You?
She slid back into situational awareness as Cannon’s handstrike approached her neck. No human commanded seconds-subjective like a Before, and no Before commanded seconds-subjective like Raisa Siddiq. She slid under the strike, hardening her skin again, allowing the edge of Cannon’s palm to graze her face, stealing energy across the dermal barrier in a theft that would sting the other woman like a high voltage strike in a few dozen milliseconds and leave her hand useless for a critical span longer.
Cannon, slower but craftier in her way, lifted out of the contact so that the spark shorted. Ozone crackled as Kallus stepped so slowly back and began the agonizing progress of drawing his shock pistol.
Siddiq spun on her left heel, allowing the deck covering to shred away under the pressure of her movement, bring her right foot and offhand up for a follow-on strike as she remembered the memebomb virus card.
She aborted, her balance slipping as her foot dropped. Cannon stepped in, grasped Siddiq close, too close, and slammed them together in a tooth-cracking impact that opened to a kiss.