Overclocked -CH11- (Patreon)

Letting out a slow breath, Wrench stood up from where he sat. At the same time he started to spin up his Systems back to one-hundred percent. Bringing everything back up to a normal level.

He’d had everything set to a considerably lower amount, giving his body a chance to rest and recuperate. To let it have some downtime even if he wasn’t sleeping.

While he didn’t feel rested for it, he didn’t feel absolutely exhausted for being awake for twenty-four hours.

The reason he was getting everything ready, was that the leader of the Brawlers and his entourage were on the way over to him. There was an obvious tension running through their numbers as well.

Behind him, and partly around him, was the School he’d protected. Once they’d been assured that he really wasn’t leaving, they’d settled back to sleep. Leaving their security and well-being to him while nearly sleeping on-top of his feet.

Not far off were the corpses piled up that he’d made.

Wrench had already gone ahead and stripped them of their clothes, weapons, and their implants. The last of those he’d gotten better at rather quickly now having done it a few times.

As the approaching group continued to head his way, Wrench began to ramp up his systems beyond their normal ranges. Pushing them up and up and feeling his body responding.

His skin warming quickly as his body felt lighter.

With every beat of his heart he could feel the rapid change from a passive state to an active and ready for combat one.

I really could completely dominate a gladiator’s circuit.

Given how Goodie feels… I’m not sure I’ll ever have that chance.

But that’s not really an issue, I suppose. The whole point of wanting to do that, to crush and dominate everything, was to live an easy and happy life. To get everything I wanted and needed.

Goodie will give me all of that it seems without me having to try very hard.

Unable to help himself, Wrench snatched up his sword from where he’d stuck it in the ground. His hand clasped it tightly and he felt his body quiver once. Ready and willing to leap into a fight and to commit to a slaughter.

Apparently that was a sign that the Brawler’s picked up on.

Where they’d looked somewhat antagonistic to begin with, they now all had the appearance of a person who wished to go elsewhere. To flee and not stick around.

Pretty-Face especially had a sour look. As if he were chewing on lemon rinds and rusty nails.

“Seems like you can’t keep control over your people,” Wrench said with some heat and volume. He knew it’d wake up the School around him, as well as those nearby. Not to mention the Solos that weren’t far away, either, he imagined. He’d have to talk for a bit and stall so that more people could hear what he was about to say. “A couple of them got away before I could kill them, too. You know, for trying to rape this poor School around me.

“Rapists aren’t welcome in my Hab. My rules, after all. I gave you all my rules. You seemed like you understood them and heard me when I said it.

“I’m going to assume you’re either a terrible leader, who has no idea what’s going on. Or you deliberately sent those men over here to enjoy themselves. Maybe if only to try and make me look bad in my own Hab.

“So… you can hand them over to me, the ones that got away, or you can pay for them in exchange.

“And before you say you don’t know who they are, then it means you’re even more to blame. Even more at fault. Which means you can’t even punish the guilty and you’re that terrible of a leader. One who doesn’t deserve to be at teh top.

“If you don’t know who’s at fault… you don’t know who did this… if that’s the case, you can pay the price for them. Pay for their crimes. And the payment is rather simple. Wanna hear it?”

Pretty-Face couldn’t seem to decide between shame and anger.

“Sure,” he said finally, having stood there for several seconds while processing the situation. “Let’s hear your tyrannical price.”

“Oh yeah, real tyrannical. It’s a real shame I’m punishing you and your people for attempted rape. I’m such a terrible leader. Me oh my,” remarked Wrench with an eye roll. “It’s very simple. Give me those who violated my laws, then kill them yourself. Slit their throats and let them bleed out right here.

“I’ll take their stuff, knock the implant out of their head, and then you dump the corpses in the filter. Along with those right there.

“Or… you cut off your pink and ring finger on your left hand. You pop those two fingers off, I’ll leave it be and we call it even. After all, if you’re willing to step up as a leader, to be the person to shoulder the load for your people, than I can leave it at that.

“Now you have to choose what’s more important. Two of your fingers, or thirty fingers from your people. Fifteen to one. You or them. You can cut them off yourself when you decide.”

Pretty-Face looked supremely unhappy.

Extremely so.

“Five seconds is all the time I can give you to decide, by the way. If you don’t decide… well, both will happen. I’ll kill three of your people, kick your ass, and take two of your fingers,” Wrench added when it seemed like Pretty-Face would stall.

Pretty-Face said nothing, his jaw flexing as he ground his teeth together.

“Three… two… one,” murmured Wrench, lifting his blade up and giving it a little wave at the man.

“Spike, kill them, dump them. Take the corpses,” Pretty-Face relented with a wave of his hand. “They disobeyed my orders, they can pay the price. I can’t protect those who don’t listen.”

Pretty-Face started to leave now without waiting. Heading out into the field and leaving behind six people. Three who clearly had been stripped of weapons, and three that were next to them and had weapons.

“By the way, you and your people, you’re all banished to the filter. You can stay over there. Permanently,” Wrench called after the man. “If you stay over there, and never leave the filter area, I’ll make sure you and your people at the filter all get two meals a day.

“Even if no one else from your Hab gets fed, you and yours will at least get two meals a day. Every day. Morning and evening. So go to the filter with your corpses, and never come back. You can remain there till your Tongsta reclaims you.

“You should also know… that if I die… there won’t be any food for anyone. I’m the only Fixer for my Hab. The only one who can get into the ducts and where the storage areas are. Without me… there won’t be anything for anyone.”

Pretty-Face didn’t stop or even turn around, he just kept marching.

There was a definite slow turning to his direction though, heading toward the filter at the far corner of the Hab.

Wrench clicked his tongue and then looked to the three that were about to be executed.

“I wonder if you three will be the next group sent to their death,” remarked Wrench with a curious tone. “That if he’ll sacrifice you three next. What an interesting question, isn’t it?”

A grisly execution was held for the three Pretty-Face had clearly picked out beforehand.

Wrench collected all his loot, ripped out their implants, then headed back up to his ducts. He needed to get it all stuffed into the Fabrication machine and working away.

More clothes.

Clothes make School especially happy. Saw that first hand in the resistance. Even ex-School resistance members still loved clothes. They never were able to escape that.

Need more clothes. Lots more.

If I’m going to try and pursue something with Dusky, I need a way to open a door with that.

I’ll have to try and communicate it to Goodie.

Pull on my clothes repeatedly or something.

Maybe… hold up rolls of cloth?

Pausing at the door to the ducts, he was momentarily at a loss.

Stripe was curled up against the door. Sleeping peacefully with her back pressed to it. Snuggled up in the thick blanket he’d put out for her. She was sleeping atop the thin mattress he’d pulled out for her.

They were the type of thing that always seemed to be in ducts for when a Fixer needed to remain near something overnight. Which given how old, sensitive, or bad some equipment could be, that made sense.

Chewing at his lower lip, Wrench considered what to do and then shook his head. He realized that he could actually use her help if she was willing.

“Stripe,” Wrench said firmly and clearly. He figured she’d be a light sleeper. Just her name would likely be enough to jolt her out of her sleep.

Which was confirmed when she literally flinched, her eyes snapping open and locking on him.

“Hi Stripe. Good morning,” Wrench greeted her with a smile. “Could you help me a bit? I’d appreciate it.”

Clearing her throat, coughing, then clearing it again, Stripe nodded her head. Pushing herself up off the ground she put her back to the door and blinked several times.

Reaching up she rubbed her rather large eyes with her hands. The blanket slipped away from her shoulders in doing it and gave him a firm reminder that Stripe was quite lovely to look at.

One of her shoulders was bare as her dress had slipped down partway. Her neckline, some of her upper chest, and cleavage were on display.

She was a Solo and was above the average, just not quite as mind bendingly pretty as they could be.

“Yeah, I can help. Sure,” she croaked out, adjusted her clothes, then stood up out of her blankets. Adjusting her dress she then took up her blanket, the matress, and moved them to the side. “Ah… what can I do?”

“Doors and things that I can’t operate like this. As well as the door to the Fabricator, that’s a bit awkward honestly. I can’t open or do any of that with my arms full. You’ll be my hands to make this quicker,” Wrench explained and then moved forward. When he got close enough, the door audibly unlocked itself.

“Got it. I’m your hands,” Stripe said and held her hands up, wriggling her fingers rapidly. Then she stepped forward, took the handle, and opened the door to the ducts. Stepping in, she pulled it up to herself and held it there for him.

Wrench nodded his head at her and then came inside. He paused as a thought popped into his head.

“Pull the mattress and blanket inside real quick,” he instructed, pushing his foot up against the corner of the door, holding it open.

“Oh! Yes, yes. Of course,” Stripe said, moving quickly. She tripped briefly as the toe of her boot caught on the door frame and she stumbled out of the ducts.

She quickly grabbed the matress and blanekt and came back inside.

“So embarassing,” she whispered in a volume that he shouldn’t have been able to hear. It reminded him of the fact that he was still running all his Systems much higher than normal.

Grinning, he nodded down the hall.

“Come on, help me out here,” he asked. He found he liked her.

Clumsy awkwardness and all.

She’d also be a good conversational partner while he ran tests, checked numbers, and made sure everything was fine with the Hab.

With so many unknown people here he needed to make sure everything was running in the right direction.

***

Finished with all the tasks he’d needed to get done, Wrench left the ducts and entered the pens. He noted that the Schools weren’t far off. Hovering around the areas just outside the entry areas to the pens and ducts.

The Solos and a number of Admini were there as well.

Wrench noted that there was a single Brawler, too.

Ah.

Likely here to request that promised meal. Alright. I’ll lug that over in a little bit. I can probably get it over to the filter through the ducts, actually.

In fact, I can probably use the tool-transit-trolley. Load it up and send it over repeatedly, then just push it all out. I’ll just have to get a count and go from there.

Put it all out through the filter maintenance tunnel that exits nearby.

Nodding his head Wrench held the door open for Stripe and then closed it behind her. Moving down the hall he looked into the cafeteria.

His entire School was there enjoying breakfast together. Chatting, talking, and playing with some toys they’d brought out from somewhere.

While they didn’t like being stuck indoors it obviously wasn’t that much of a chore.

Barely an inconvenience.

“Wrench!” called Duchess who popped out of her seat and came over toward him. She was the Deme that was four-foot tall with grey eyes who’d asked him a few questions when they’d met. It was hard to forget the lovely if short woman. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Are you alright?”

She bounced over to him and took his forearm in her own. Gently squeezing it with her fingers.

As much as he wanted to believe it was a romantic gesture, he knew it wasn’t. This was just how School-Hume were. Touching, holding, and physically supporting one another.

Curbing his forlorn wish for a romantic partner, he smiled and nodded his head at her.

“Yes, I’m fine. I was dealing with our Brawler friends out there. They tried to rape some Humes that belonged to a school. I interevented,” Wrench said plainly.

“Oh, that’s wonderful of you,” Dusky said, coming up on his other side. She reached out and patted him gently on the shoulder and upper arm. “It’s exactly what I’d expect of you, too.”

“Yes, yes! Exactly that, yes,” Jitter said, standing just behind her cousin and nodding her head.

The beautiful platinum haired, overly endowed, and eerily pretty Sparkle came right up in front of him. She put both of her hands on his chest, leaned forward, and gave him an odd hug. Pressing herself against him momentarily, before pulling away and smiling at him. It made her pale-blue eyes practically glow.

“We were so worried! I’m glad you did what you did though. Schools need all the help they can get! Those Brawlers will always abuse us whenever they get the chance,” pouted the lovely woman.

“Well, everything is fine. I killed several, made them execute others, then took the materials for us,” Wrench explained.

A number of the School had all looked curiously to his side as he spoke. He’d forgotten Stripe was there and had followed him at his own request.

“This is Stripe. She asked to sleep outside the duct door for safety and I let her. She helped me with some tasks today as well,” Wrench said by way of introduction.

Duchess was still caressing his arm, as was Dusky. Sparkle had moved close to him again and now had a hand on his hip.

School-Hume were posessive in an odd way. Now that they’d spotted Stripe, they were banding together quickly and including him.

As if she were an outsider.

Which of course, she was, really.

As if sensing that division, Stripe had taken a few steps back. Putting herself outside of arms-reach.

“Hi! Yes, hello. I’m Stripe. I’m a Deme Solo. Wrench has been overly kind and charitable to me,” Stripe over-shared, her tone sheepish. “I’m thankful for all that he’s given me already. I’m just… just following along as he asked me to be here. I’m so sorry for interrupting your breakfast.”

For one reason or another, that seemed to appease his School. They looked pleased at the words and placated.

That or they were just that happy she’d taken a few steps away.

He couldn’t tell. School-Hume were weird to him. Almost like a different type of creature in many regards.

“Yes. I did ask you to be here. Sorry about that,” Wrench apologized and then pointed a hand to the dispenser near the back corner of the room. “Please. Get yourself some breakfast. I need to go cart off a meal to the Pretty-Face group by the filter.

“Then… then probably set up an outdoor meal event for the rest of your Hab. They’re all uh… they’re alright, right? They don’t line up with the Brawlers?”

“No! No. They don’t. Some do but they don’t leave that group,” Stripe quickly confirmed for him. “Just as I mentioned previously. The Brawler group has a clear definition line. You’re in, or you’re out. To them, there is no inbetween.

“They’ll all… those not in the group will be fine. There’s not that many Solos. Mostly School. They all tend to hide from the Brawlers during the day and retreat to their pens at night.

“Oh, I already told you all this. I’m just babbling. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Wrench shook his head with a chuckle. It was something she’d mentioned before, but it was perfectly alright for her to say it again. It actually confirmed his own thoughts.

“Alright… ah… Stripe, after you get your meal, meet me at the duct door? We’ll feed your Hab then. I need to go feed the Brawlers,” Wrench planned, then let out a long slow breath.

He was tired.

“My Hab can wait,” Stripe said firmly. “They’ve gone many times without food when the Tongsta forgot to feed us. It won’t be an issue to delay it for a few hours. You… you should get a nap.

“If anyone asks, I’ll tell them that you’re planning on feeding them the moment you wake up. Because you were up all night protecting them, rather than sleeping. They won’t argue or say anything.”

“Oh, yes, that’s a good idea. Yeah, a very good idea. I like it,” Jitter interjected, nodding her head rapidly. “Wrench, go do what you must, then nap. We’ll prepare a meal for Stripe’s Hab while you rest, then have her distribute it. You can feed the Brawlers then sleep.”

“Yes! I love it,” Duchess added, to which the others all nodded their heads.

“Wrench, do you want to take a moment out real quick and go to our pen? You didn’t get to enjoy me last night and I want to make sure you get your end of the trade,” Dusky offered with a smile.

All the School around her and him nodded their head incrementally. Clearly agreeing with her that this was something that should be taken care of.

It was a genuine offer on Dusky’s part Wrench felt, but there was no warmth to it. No desire to spend time with him in the bed, but offering it out of a need to feel like she was adhering to her bargain.

Something Freckles would do.

Wrench strangled out the feeling that’d jumped to the front of his mind and gave a smile and a shake of his head. Cutting himself off from that silly wish as quickly as he could.

“No, I’m alright. There’s no need for that, Dusky. I’ll go feed the Brawlers and take that nap like you said. Thanks, everyone,” he offered, then wondered how he’d pull away from the School. They hadn’t released him yet.

Standing there, he could only offer them a smile as they began to chatter about other things. Waiting for their hands to fall away from him.

They felt oddly restraining in a way.