Chapter 139:
The Daedalus Academy
Y: 2143 - M2
Daedalus Financial Position: -52,500,000 bitcreds
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Barran strode down the corridor thinking about his new squad and he suddenly thought of something else to ask Daedo. He halted and considered disturbing him again until he finally decided upon sending a message like Daedo asked. If he said that he would check them in a day, then he would be true to his word.
After he sent the message regarding his personal mech, which he flagged at the highest importance level, he browsed his unread. Unlike Daedo he let the humongous amounts of messages pile up. They were usually boring reports. Especially if they came from Daedo or Axel-Zero. Feeling a rare pang of guilt, he began to go through Daedo’s messages until he struck gold.
Daedo asked advice on an altercation with Axel-Zero. Barran watched from two angles as he walked down the corridor laughing his guts out the whole way.
“This is gold,” he said to himself cheerfully.
He sent a message back to Daedo. “Get protection.” And laughed knowing Daedo would not divine the real meaning.
Barran peeked into squadroom three. It was Vannier’s and they were all orderly and chatting happily.
Vannier saw him and pointed east towards his squadroom, squadroom four. He moved on, it didn’t look like her riff-raff were that bad. He could hear his squadroom before he could see it. A loud booming was reverberating down the corridor.
Barran was not scared of anything, and in this situation, he classed himself as apprehensive which was different to being scared. When he walked through the door, he could see a large woman dancing on a platform in the centre of the room. She was in a Daedalus branded bodysuit, which were still manufactured by Axel, and wiggling her ass in the air. The booming was a music stream playing at what had to be full volume.
The common area of the squadroom was fully programmable and what his riff-raff had done was make a one-metre high platform and colour it with lights using the projection system. The woman in question had a nice ass. Barran rated her as she wiggled, he couldn’t bring himself to categorise it as dancing. Her ass was almost three times the size of his, and when she turned to look at the newcomer, he could see her face was tattooed. She looked like she was over twenty.
“Oi,” she called but didn’t stop dancing. She flung her hand indicating an interloper.
The five boys who were cheering her turned and saw him. They were so consumed with her performance they hadn’t noticed him until now.
“Hey,” a short Latino boy shouted. “This is our squadroom. Piss off.”
Barran leaned against the wall and watched the young woman dance. He asked his AI, Jenkins, to list his squadmates origins and ages. Someone had already changed their designations, overriding surnames and serials. Their ages and origins were still intact.
Sly – Male 15 – New Jersey - NA
Chica – Female 21 – London - EU
Rodriguez – Male 16 – Mexico City - NA
Dary – Male 15 – Sydney - OCE
Tank – Male 19 - Auckland – OCE
Lewinski – Female 15 – Krakow – EU
Zerg – Male 14 – Manila - ASIA
Now Barran knew his squad and Jenkins was able to identify them for him on the fly. The Dancing girl was Chica and she was from London.
The Latino boy was Rodriguez. Which made perfect sense to Barran, although the rest of them would have been hard to place if Jenkins wasn’t assisting.
Barran leaned against the wall, smiled and shook his head, “No. I’m enjoying the show. Please continue. Chica.” He waved his hand as if granting permission.
She stopped dancing immediately.
“I ain’t dancing for no rich kid,” she venomously spouted.
“That’s a pity,” Barran said stretching as if bored. “I was enjoying the show.”
“How do you know he is rich?” Tank asked Chica.
She flicked her head in Barran’s direction. “The way he walks talks and thinks he is superior.”
“Not to mention the fact he was on the inter-academy streams. It’s Barran,” Sly the short, dark-skinned boy said sarcastically directing his barb at Chica.
Lewinski was a short blond-haired young girl from Poland. There was only one issue, her hair was a tangled mess. It looked as if she hadn’t washed or brushed in it in months if not years. “So? You the squad leader?” She said as she approached Barran and stood very close. Her chin was almost touching him as she looked up at him.
He looked down into her crazy eyes and replied, “No. I think whoever is the toughest should be squad leader.”
She cackled finding the idea hilarious.
“Good idea,” Tank said beaming and cracking his knuckles. The nineteen-year-old Maori boy was built like a literal tank.
Barran pushed himself off the wall. “Okay follow me to the gym. When I injure you – you will want medical assistance nearby.” With that, he strode towards the gym, hopped on the closest travelator with the seven cadets eagerly following. He grinned. They probably expected Tank to smash him and wanted to see it.
Barran pulled up Tank’s medical data on a screen they could all see.
“Looking for weaknesses?” Zerg asked.
“No,” Barran replied, “I’m making sure I don’t injure him too badly. For all, I know he could have a dodgy spine or thin skull.”
Zerg chuckled. “We’ll see.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
The other cadets were busy exchanging bets. Barran had to laugh, they were betting everything from food, which was free, to sexual favours. Which were also free. Lewinski was trying to bet insects. Unsuccessfully.
They walked into the gym which had at least fifty cadets that Barran had never seen before. They were exploring and trying out the equipment.
He walked over to the mats with his squad which drew some attention from the onlookers.
“I’m next!” Zerg exclaimed. “I will fight the winner.” Tank laughed at the little boy. He weighed at least three times what Zerg did. Zerg’s claim started an avalanche.
Barran pulled up a list and had them all enter. Sly and Dary vied for last entry each waiting for the other to declare as the rest watched.
“Stop being chicken,” Zerg accused.
“Yeah. Are you pussies?” Chica asked.
Barran announced. “Sly and Dary will have to fight each other and the winner will fight me.”
“You?” Tank asked.
“Come on and find out how far you street scum are behind.” Barran goaded him into the centre of the mat. The screen already indicated Dary and Sly would fight each other next. And neither dare protest in fear of confirming they were pussies.
Barran could see Tank flex his muscles beneath his bodysuit. He was over six foot and would have weighed twice as much as Master while not being as tall. For such a big guy he moved fast, but all his movements were raw which made it easy for Barran to use his power against him.
Within moments Tank was flying through the air and onto his back. Barran did not hesitate. He was already moving before Tank hit the ground and he quickly aimed a punch directly at Tank’s nose smashing it into his skull. Blood began to flow profusely.
Barran skipped back away from the large Maori boy. Or man. He looked towards the others, “Zerg you’re next.”
“Hold on,” Tank interjected. “I ain’t done yet.”
Barran rued that he had not set any rules for finishing a bout. And despite blood flowing down his face and onto his chest Tank was determined to continue. He did not look in distress otherwise.
Tank took on a more defensive posture, with one lead leg poking towards Barran but otherwise not over-committing. He had learned from his mistake. It didn’t matter to Barran he slid without a jab and hit Tank with an uppercut on the chin, testing it for weakness. Tanks head whipped back, but he recovered quickly and tried to grab Barran.
Barran slipped his grip easily but used Tank’s forward centre of gravity to pull him down onto the mat. He whipped his leg over Tank’s body as he fell with him and put his opponent into a neck hold. He was attempting to choke Tank into unconsciousness.
The strong Maori kid had one arm pinned beneath his body and the other pinned under Barran’s leg. Much to everyone’s surprise he pushed with the arm pinned underneath himself, it was probably the worst counter move. But that didn’t phase tank he was much taller and stronger than Barran. Tank pushed himself off the ground and then pushed with his heels as well lifting his back and Barran off the ground.
From this position, Tank was able to sit up with Barran comically holding onto his neck in mid-air. All purchase lost Tank gripped onto Barran, ignoring the choke hold and threw him off.
Barran rolled and grinned.
“Not bad,” he gave Tank a genuine compliment. Barran thought about his next strategy and he decided to stop using knock out blows which would work on a regular cadet.
Barran circled Tank moving quickly and keeping low under his swinging arms. He lashed out at the side of Tank’s leg. Directly at the knee. An audible sickening crack was heard. As Barran circled and repeated the move from behind the now crippled giant. Tank fell with one knee damaged severely.
Barran did not hesitate this time. He stomped on Tank’s prone ankle. And everyone could hear it break.
“Enough,” Tank declared in surrender.
Barran had to give him credit Tank winced in pain to something that would have most cadets bawling their eyes out.
“One of you going to help him?” Barran asked nodding towards the medkits.
Lewinski ran to grab one. “I will,” she said with some glee and far too much perversion.
“Ah,” Tank said suddenly looking fearful. “Somebody? Anybody else?”
Barran took the med kit from the gleaming Lewinski and threw it to Tank. Much to his relief and her dismay.
“Zerg?” Barran called. “First blood from now on,” Barran added. And then he looked at Zerg who was holding free weights. One in each hand.
“What’s that?” Barran asked.
“Weapons,” Zerg said grinning before he charged Barran swinging the weights in long arcs. Barran jumped back and back again. He grabbed a bo stick from the rack without taking his eyes off Zerg.
With his long reach, he was able to smack Zerg on the head at will while keeping enough separation between them to disallow a return blow. Every time Zerg charged, Barran dodged. Every time Zerg attempted to advance Barran circled. It took only a minute of hard wacks from the bo staff for Zerg to begin bleeding from the scalp.
“Next,’ Barran called when he could see the blood. Zerg swore and throw down the weights. “Put them away and don’t be a – sore - loser.” Barran laughed at his own joke.
Zerg grimaced but did as he was asked. He had lost but obviously didn’t want the label; sore loser, as well.
Chica went next. She approached Barran slowly. She was fit despite having wide hips her waist was thinner and her arms appeared muscular and not flabby in the least. She was twenty-one and a fully grown female, but she was still only slightly taller than Barran.
She watched Barran warily as she arrived on the mat, but he did not attack. He waited for her to make the first move. She stuck her tongue out licking her lips before placing a hand on her ample breast. As he watched enthralled, she squeezed it before running her hand down her flat stomach and towards her crotch. There was not much need for imagination in her tight bodysuit as her hand arrived at her groin. And she began rubbing it.
A little voice called out a warning to Barran. It was his combat experience raising the alarm. But he ignored the inner voice as she rubbed herself and he wondered if she got wet would he be able to see the moisture through the bodysuit.
It was then he noticed an object flying through the air with his peripheral vision. He managed to dodge it in the nick of time. She had thrown a weight with her other hand. He swore at her trickery. She landed squarely on his weakness and he laughed.
“Oh, you find me funny?” She asked. Her anger was rising. She charged him ferociously. Her wild attacks reminding him of Axel-Zero and he laughed again remembering Daedo’s message.
His laughter incensed Chica. She began to froth and become frantic in her attacks. Swinging arms, kicking and expending enormous amounts of energy. While defending Barran took some bruises to his arms.
On one particularly wild swing, he grabbed her wrist and spun her around using her momentum and the pain of twisting her arm. He then kicked the back of her knees before grabbing her hair and smashing her face into the mat. It was hard enough to elicit blood from her nose.
While continuing to hold her hair while pulling her head back, he lectured, “Channel your anger. Don’t let it control you.” For emphasis, he pushed her forward again and let go.
“Next,” he called.
Rodriguez tried to surprise Barran from behind. Barran was an expert in using his suit sensors during melee combat and elbowed the rushing Rodriguez in the face. Instant blood.
“Next,” Barran called a few seconds after his previous request.
Dary and Sly both came at him. Rather than fight each other they decided to beat him together first. Barran thought about how - not having any rules - wasn’t always a good thing.
Both boys were adept brawlers. And they had both been through extensive training and trials in the Daedalus games. But they had no teamwork. They were unknown to each other.
Barran skipped back and across the mats and waited for them to interfere with each other before pouncing. He charged towards the Dary and in the lead, who dodged, but landed a hard kick into sly whose view of Barran was obscured by his cohort.
Poor Sly bent over unable trying to breathe. Dary was turning trying to hit Barran before he finished off Sly. Barran continued to move, keeping Sly between him and Dary before landing a vicious jab to the back to Sly’s head. He fell to the mat probably unconscious or at least pretending to be.
As Dary slid around the left of Sly, Barran met him head-on. He defended two punches before landing a quick jab on Dary’s nose. No blood issued. Barran spied something up Dary’s nose. He had plugged it with something.
Dary continued to dodge and throw punches at Barran. But after all the months training with the Master, this was a piece of cake. Barran brought up his elbow catching one of Dary’s more vicious punched head on. A loud crack indicated at least a broken wrist if not hand.
Dary screamed. Everyone accepted that as surrender.
It was then Lewinski stabbed Barran with something from the med kit. He yelled in surprise and paid.
She then pulled the needle out of his calf, looked at the blood on the tip, and announced.
“I win.”
There was stunned silence. She had not only snuck under Barran’s radar but everyone else as well.
“She can’t be squad leader,” Dary stated and everyone agreed, even Chica.
“A deal is a deal,” Barran said.
“This is crazy,” Tank replied.
“It’s a good a name as any,” Barran agreed.
“Squad name?” Chica asked.
“Crazy,” Lewinski agreed. A small amount of drool could be seen leaking from her mouth. And her stare was the epitome of crazy.