Chapter 6 // Crush Their Spirit

Faito, Mardeek, Eugenio, Gaykwan, and John were the last five policemen Mocha had to kill before the escape from Omega could resume. The police squad all attended the same academy together, along with the dead guys: Frank, Darquisha and Dakika. They did not start corrupt; most grunts usually shared the aspirations of “changing things”, “fighting for the greater good”, and whatever other slogans some tired hack read from a stage. They based their entire personalities on scripts written by a board of propagandists. Not even the police knew if there was life outside of the walls. That idea had been extinguished from their memory banks.

Once enlisted, their hearts grew cold. Omega had a way of corrupting even the most precious snow flower. Credits was the most basic method, but for men, it seemed to be attention that they craved most. Attention from higher-ups, an invitation to the Citadel, a promotion to become a Peacekeeper… Recognition for their valiant service. Pats on the back. Looks from the most lusty women that would never breathe in their direction if it weren’t for their status. Respect from civvies that were shills for whichever political party was in power. Tatsuki had referred to them as Omega d-riders in many transmissions.

There were females in the Omega police, but none in this particular squad. They shared the same aspirations as men, but more often took bribes of money and power over fleshly pursuits. Young men threw themselves at these women; they could sleep with ten young bucks a day and never go through the entire catalog, but for some reason, most police women slept with other girls.

One cover-up led to another and they became greedy and complacent. Perhaps if they spent more time training rather than sleeping with impudent strumpets, they would have been able to protect their comrades from death. Who is this woman? She fights like a demon. How did a terrorist learn to fight like this? What did we get ourselves into… Where the hell is our backup? Probably drunk and high at the office. Oh that’s right, there was a striptease happening at the barracks right now… DAMN! We’re missing the show!

“I’m going to pull her teeth one by one… beat her face to a pulp…” Faito said. John wanted to keep her just barely alive, tear that kimono off and do the deed, just like he did hundreds of times to defenseless women in the past. Eugenio and Gaykwan wanted to finish this up and go to the bar and drink to their dead friends. Mardeek wanted to go home to see his wife and daughter, but leaving wasn’t an option.

They all directed their anger toward the purple-eyed woman. The drive for blood became personal. Their precious ego was damaged. Nobody messes with Omega police! NOBODY!

Mocha shot Mardeek in the back and his shield dropped. He turned around and fired an arc at nothing. They all rushed to where the blasts came from, but she was gone. Their fury boiled.

“Coward! Show yourself!” Gaykwan said.

“Shut up!” John said.

Mocha was hanging from the ledge right by their feet. A pulse grenade she procured from Dakika’s dead body rolled between Mardeek and Eugenio. BOOM! Mardeek transformed into a beautiful mist of gore and several limbs. Eugenio was thrown off the 2nd floor; he screamed and crashed through a table. Mocha had already dropped down to avoid the blast and was waiting for him. She stabbed him. His finger reflexively squeezed the trigger, shooting the ceiling and inadvertently blasting one of the sprinklers.

Dakika’s comrades shot from above as Mocha zig-zagged from their field-of-view. She ran quite a distance while the rest of the policemen vaulted over to the 1st floor. By the time they dropped down, Mocha had flipped up onto the second floor. She fired her pulse pistol at Faito and his shields dropped. He fired back and she dove inside of a store.

“Eugenio! Eugenio! Damn! She’s killing us off!” Faito yelled.

“Shut up! She’s just one woman. There!” John pointed at a ledge with flowers atop it. “Gaykwan, you first, we’ll cover you.”

“Roger!”

Mocha watched them from her concealed position. This was fun…

Her mind flashed to a distant memory. One-handed pushups underneath the setting sun. The soil was wet from her own sweat. Her classmates had all gone to fraternize back in the village. Mocha continued to train… Her childhood was packed to capacity with training montages. It was hard to remember anything else. Loneliness was inscribed into her heart. The only thing that stayed consistent, the only thing she relied on, was practice, practice, practice… And all that paid off each time she got to spar with someone. Oh how she loved to spar…

Crush their spirit! That’s what her old Sensei used to say repeatedly to his most prized student. Mocha was much smaller back then, but always had a way of making the toughest boys grovel beneath her feet. She would toy with her victims and brutally degrade them. Nobody wanted to spar with her and she was labeled a “disturbed child”, the “crazy girl”.

They failed to outclass her, so they belittled her for anything. The easiest one was the fact she never wore shoes. That did not last long, but the insults did not stop, only quieted down to whispers… Nobody wanted to be her friend. Tears in isolation as she soaked in the moonlight were halted by her Sensei’s voice, like his training mantras were ingrained in her psyche.

Crush them! Take their soul! Shatter their heart! Pierce their thoughts! Raise your spirit above theirs! Visualize it! Defeat them before you inflict a single blow!

As she watched those stupid Omega police officers searching for her, an idea came to mind.

 She looked up to the sky past the ceiling, the sprinklers feeling great on her face.

“Thank you, Sensei.”

Mocha moved to the first floor while the squad searched for her on the second. Mocha winded up her shoulder and tossed something at them from 40 meters away. Eugenio’s severed head splattered against the wall near the 3 men.

“AHHH!!!!” Faito lost his mind. He jumped down and landed in a parkour roll.

“Faito! Stay back! We move together! Damn, Gaykwan let’s go!”

John and Gaykwan mimicked their comrade and dropped down to the first floor.

Faito got shot in the face by Mocha’s pulse pistol. What an idiot—in his rage he had forgotten his shields were down.

Mocha rolled forward, ignoring the sting in her shoulder blades. She grabbed Faito’s pulse rifle and unloaded bullets toward John and Gaykwan. One of her lasers hit John’s rifle and broke it. The policemen separated to the left and right and hid behind pillars across from each other.

The side of Mocha’s pulse rifle opened and emitted a hot green steam. This was the equivalent of reloading. Mocha leaned against a pillar. She switched to the pulse pistol and aimed her shots at Gaykwan on the pillar to the right.

Her bare feet felt footsteps behind her. As she turned, the steps turned into a sprint. John had used the interconnected stores to close in on Mocha. She ridiculed herself for letting this happen. John tackled her, the back of her head cracking against the pillar. The rifle and pistol fell to her feet.

John ducked into a wrestling stance and grabbed Mocha and tossed her through the glass wall of the store beside them. It shattered as she tumbled inside. Glass cut her body in various places. She rolled into the momentum and stood up.

She unsheathed her katana. John pulled his pulse pistol and shot at her. She deflected the laser with her blade as he rushed her again and tackled her into a bookstand that broke apart on impact. Literature fell over them as John dug his thumb inside the gash in Mocha’s chest, his other hand over her katana handle. She screamed as his finger dug into her body; it was the first time John heard her voice. It fueled him with motivation to win.

She headbutted him then finger-jabbed his throat. He pulled his thumb out of her chest wound and covered his neck while gagging. If it weren’t for his shield, his larynx would have been shattered. She roundhouse kicked his leg and he fell to a kneel and chopped his wrist so that he let go of her katana handle. He reached for her as she flipped over him.

As she landed she slashed his back and the biotic barrier relinquished. She prepped the death blow, but from the reflection of glass on the ground she saw Gaykwan aiming at her from outside the store. The muscle fibers in her legs twitched, but it was too late. 

She heard a blast but felt no pain. Tatsuki shot Gaykwan in the face. He fell onto his side. Tatsuki shot him again. He didn’t know which body part he hit but he saw blood splatter and the body stopped moving.

John turned around to do a take-down, but Mocha stabbed him in his adams-apple and watched his eyes turn red as he gurgled blood, then pulled the blade out of him. She whipped her sword, cleaning it of the blood and kept it outstretched to her side. Victory.

She turned around and looked at Tatsuki with anger. She wanted to go up to him and slap him for disobeying her orders. He looked at her with a cocky smile and nodded his head at her.

“Sup,” he said.

 She responded with an incredulous smile.

They were both drenched from the sprinklers above. Blood traveled down Mocha’s body and made red ripples beneath her feet. Yoshi floated to Mocha and sprayed the final reserves of first aid. Tatsuki motioned his head toward the exit. They jogged together, Yoshi floating between them.

“Thanks,” Mocha broke the silence.

“No problem. I owe you one. Probably more than one,” Tatsuki laughed.

Mocha smirked. They still had a long way to go before they were safe. They ran outside toward the red light district. The sun warmed their wet bodies. They ran for 15 seconds before gunfire kicked up dust around them, forcing them to find cover once again, this time in a grocery store. The interior was much more tight compared to the open area of the mall. The gunfire stopped and they heard a man yelling from outside.

“Hey, come on out!” the boss said, then clicked his tongue four times like calling for a kitty cat.

“We just wanna talk!”

A flurry of laughter from his goons.

“Tatsuki. Hide.”

“I can fight!” Tatsuki whispered, aiming his eyes toward the rifle in his hands. “Let me help!”

Mocha wanted to tell him no, but the look in his eyes was different from when they first met. Or perhaps it was her perception of him that had changed. It was like a fire had awoken within him. She felt like she could trust him now, if only a little, the tiniest bit...

“Fine, but don’t do anything stupid… Baka…”

Tatsuki’s eyes lit up and he nodded obediently. Mocha thought she saw his cheeks blush before he turned his head away. She squinted her eyes at him while he avoided her gaze.

“Come on, we don’t got all day! The pigs are gonna show up any minute now!”