VS. Martial Arts Thinker

And the martial artist woman in the prison guard uniform was after me. Her body was a blur of grays and blacks against a black background, and I barely saw her leg come around. A kick aimed at my neck, while I was still reeling.

Teacher thrall, I realized. I brought the Wretch out. She kicked the Wretch, and the Wretch might have been lashing out or growing out in her direction, because I saw and felt her leg break.

She landed on the three intact limbs, centered herself, and then pounced at me.

"The hell?" another officer asked.

***

The Wretch's first hit was deflected, but only barely- the woman was hit hard enough that she was pulled from Sveta's grip. She didn't have a second leg to catch herself on, so she wobbled unsteadily as she dropped to a one-legged squat, put her hands out to either side, and then sprung forward at me yet again.

I ducked low, using flight to orient myself, and kicked out. She was ready for it, pulling her leg up out of the way- but the broken leg that dangled wasn't so adroit. I'd kicked it, hard, and as dead as she was inside, she seemed to feel sufficient pain or shock. She landed hard across broken concrete.

- Gleaming 9.9