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- 203... she'd always been a bit of a bruiser. Abese, that had been her name. She'd been a mercenary on the losing side during the HomeWorld Revolution and had always seemed rather sour about it.
- [...]
- This is a polite way of saying Abese attacked people who annoyed her.
- Hence the reason why 428 was suddenly flying through the air.
- He picked himself up from among the feet of prisoners who had hurriedly stepped back. He shook himself down, and patted imaginary creases out of his uniform.
- 'If you'd wanted my porridge, you just needed to ask,' he said.
- Abese stood over him. Towered over him.
- 'So... Not about porridge?' ventured 428.
- He didn't have time to protect himself before he was smashed into a wall with a crack and a thud.
- [...]
- The crumpled heap that was 429 sat up and waved gently at 203.
- 'You're cross with me. I get that. But I don't get entirely why. If I have to guess it will be tedious, and believe me, I'm only too aware that my manner in these situations can occasionally come across as a bit unfortunate—'
- 428 spun quite a long way along the floor this time before coming to a stop.
- Then he sprang up, smiling.
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