Word Count: 100
Clothes and hair perfected, Relena strode through the palace, not looking to either side, not acknowledging the alarmed glances from the staff.
Silently thanking Trowa for the lessons, she pulled her motorcycle helmet on and roared from the garages, slowing only slightly for gate security before pulling out to blend with the evening traffic.
Sally and Hilde were already settled in the dingy bar when a dark-haired girl in biker-boots joined them.
“Good day?” asked Sally.
“Well the foreign minister of Somalia won’t be bribing anyone else in Sanq in the near future,” Relena smiled, as they raised their glasses.