Overclocked -ch13- (Patreon)

“Anything new today?” asked Stripe from the back of the Security room. Whenever she came to visit him in here, she never got near the monitors. She remained near the doorway and didn’t venture far from it.

Blinking, Wrench leaned away from the monitor bank and rubbed at his eyes with his hands.

Letting out a long sigh he then groaned into his palms.

“No. Nothing. They haven’t done a damn thing. They just sit at the filter, eat, wait, have sex,” returned Wrench as he leaned back in his chair.

Not that I can fault them for that lifestyle.

I’d very much like to do that myself.

Sounds frickin’ amazing.

Except for that fact I can’t do any of that, because they’re here, damnit.

“That’s a good thing, right?” asked Stripe.

Letting his hands fall into his lap he looked to the Deme.

She had her arms behind her back, was clean, wearing a dress that’d been laundered, and looked much healthier than when he’d first met her.

“Isn’t it? It’s been three days since you sent them over to the filter. They’re behaving and staying put,” Stripe observed. “That’s what you want them to do. You told them to do that.”

“I did. It’s a good thing, yes. I’m just… there’s no way he’d let it go at that. There’s no way he could. Is there?” Wrench asked with some confusion. I humiliated him.

“He doesn’t seem like the type to let that go. Not at any level or for anything.”

“He isn’t! If he gets an opportunity he’ll definitely kill you,” Stripe agreed, her eyes darting away from Wrench and to the floor. She hunched forward a bit, her shoulders moving forward.

It inadvertently gave him a decent look down her dress.

“He’ll kill you if he can. But in the same breath, if he can’t, he won’t push for it,” Stripe continued, her gaze settling on her feet. “We won’t be here forever. Eventually we’ll go back to our own Hab and he’ll just pick up from there.

“He doesn’t have to beat you. He just has to outlast his time here. If he gets the chance to kill you, he will. If there’s no way of doing it, he probably won’t care at all and just wait.

“I could be wrong though. He might see this as a chance to take your School from you. If he thinks that outweighs the risk, he’d do it then.”

“You know him that well?” Wrench asked curiously. Stripe was very aware of everyone in her Hab, but no one seemed to know much of her. They all just said she was quiet, stayed to herself, and was rather timid.

“He makes a point to try and catch me in our Hab. He just wants to force himself on me to say he did so,” explained Stripe with a small shrug of her shoulders. “That’s all. He’s done it to a few other Solos. Sometimes he kills them when he’s done. Sometimes he doesn’t. They usually end up killing themselves anyways.

“The Schools stay far away from him and his people so they don’t get targeted. They aren’t worth the effort to him. Same with female Admini, Fixers, and Brawlers. He doesn’t go for them because it’d be too much of a hassle.”

“Huh. He’s a real piece of work isn’t he. Maybe I should just kill them all and drop their corpses on the filter after all,” Wrench remarked with a slow shake of his head.

“I wouldn’t mind you doing that. It’d be a lot easier to deal with things when we go back,” Stripe admitted with a somewhat wistful look on her face. “But… I think our Tongsta will just replace him with something the same.

“They like their Brawlers. Doesn’t matter how many died or get killed, they just buy more. More and more. Its why we’re here, actually.

“The filter got clogged with corpses and everything got fouled. To the point that the systems couldn’t keep up. Everything came to a grinding stop and… and we couldn’t breathe.”

Wrench frowned at that, his mind sticking to her words and staying there.

The filter.

The filter? Is… no.

There’s no way you could clog a filter like that with just corpses. That’d have to have been done on purpose. It wouldn’t be quick either.

The filter would have to over-heat, get jammed, or just be starved of air.

Spinning in his chair, Wrench went back to the monitor. Staring into it, he wanted to know what was going on with the filter. All the reports he’d gotten back were that it was fine.

“What? Did I say something wrong?” Strip asked nervously.

“No, you might have said something right. If they already did it once, they could do it again,” Wrench muttered. “There’s no way a Fixer would have not noticed a problem like that when it started. Which means whatever they did, caused it to go past the reports. Past the testing and what they’d look for.

“That means they could easily be doing it right now. That might be why they’re being quiet. They’re waiting for something to happen.”

Wrench couldn’t see anything from the cameras. He couldn’t determine if there was an issue either.

He’d have to go down into the ducts, follow the hall to the filter, and check it in person. A manual inspection to make sure everything was fine.

“Alright, I’m going to go check the Filter, Stripe,” Wrench said and popped out of the seat. Wrench pointed to the seat, then the button that’d activate the intercom. “Keep an eye on things here. If I contact you through the system. It’ll come out through here.”

“I… don’t know, Wrench. I really don’t think I should,” whispered Stripe, shaking her head quickly. She met his eyes and held his gaze, though she’d shrunk into herself again.

“Stripe, sit. Watch. Listen,” commanded Wrench.

Stripe blanched, nodded her head, then came over. She hesitated, then moved to sit in the chair. She put her hand on his forearm and gripped it tightly.

“If something’s wrong, just come back. We’ll figure it out from here,” she said then patted his arm once. Pulling her hand back quickly. She looked to the controls rather than him. Her gaze was so hard-set on it, that it felt liek she wasn’t even seeing it. She just couldn’t look athim. “You don’t have to carry everything on your own. I’m willing to help how I can. I know the others would, too. They regard you as part of their school.”

Wrench felt a momentary flutter of his heart at the contact of her hand against him. It’d been such a fleeting thing but struck at him so deeply, that it left him a bit confused.

Starved for romance and affection.

That’s what I am.

This is just her being kind.

Don’t see signals that aren’t there.

Pivoting, Wrench set off at a jog. He had a bit of a distance to cover.

***

Looking down the hall Wrench could feel the unnatural heat of the air and the exhaust on his skin. He was positive of it now and there was no question in his mind.

Wrench knew there was a problem with the filter and that Pretty-Face had most certainly caused it. Whatever was happening it was most certainly not producing breathable air. The tingly feeling in his fingertips and the slightly light-headed feeling was proof of that.

Wrench looked to the side and down and brought forth the screen to monitor his Systems.

Lifting his hand he tapped into the Cardiovascular system by highlighting his lungs. He increased the efficiency of them to five-hundred percent of normal. Then he ramped up the efficiency of his blood being able to bring oxygen to and from.

Then he tapped into his Heart, did the same thing, but brought it’s rhythm down to a near resting rate. He needed to keep it nice and low so that it didn’t burn through the oxygen he planned on holding onto.

With a turn back the way he came he went far enough until he could could fresh clean air. Taking several breaths he tried to stretch his lungs out in a way. Then he took a deep breath and held it.

Turning around, he went back down the hall toward the filter.

Moving assuredly at a walk Wrench moved as fast as he dared without wanting to stress his body out in an odd way. Just because he had his heart rate low, didn’t mean he could over-stress his body.

Reaching the filter, it felt almost like he was in an oven. The heat that was coming through was intense. There was clearly no oxygen passing through, either.

The fans were spinning, but not moving any air at all.

Alright. They really did do something. I can’t fix it from here either. I need to get topside and then go solve this from above.

Damnit.

Whatever they did, they managed to circumvent the sensors.

Reaching up Wrench ran a finger along the cable line that ran from the large fan above him down the corridor back to the system. The sensors were actually around here, which meant that whatever was done, was done here.

I’ll need to figure out some type of redundancy. Bit of an oversight that there’s only one sensor. I’m sure I can figure out something. Let’s just… disconnect the sensor outright and see if it kicks things over in an emergency type of state.

Pulling out his utility knife, Wrench wedged the flat steel back end into the box the sensor was in, and popped it open. Using the same back-end he pried out the sensor from where it was sat, causing the sensor to outright “fail”.

The system would notice the error and move to a state where it assumed it needed to work from a default state, rather than a smart state. With any luck, it’d start working to solve whatever was wrong here.

I’ll ask Stripe to look at the system screen and tell me what she sees but… I didn’t see anything when I was there.

With any luck this’ll handle some of the issue. I still need to go solve the issue above though.

I can’t leave Pretty-Face there doing whatever it is he’s doing. Even if the sensor default mitigates some of this, I can’t leave it be.

I was too confident.

Arrogant, even.

Shaking his head, Wrench felt like he should have known better.

Leaving the filter area he started back toward the junction point. Halfway there he realized there was no point in reaching out to Stripe. He’d have to go up to the ducts anyways to get some weapons to slaughter Pretty-Face and his people.

He canceled all the System corrections he’d made and brought them all back to a standard level.

It only took a short while to get back to the heart of the ducts. Stripe was leaning over the desk, her face staring down at the intercom button. Her hands in her lap as she gazed at it.

Clearly waiting for him to reach out to her.

She wasn’t even looking at the screens.

Standing there, Wrench watched for a full minute.

Stripe didn’t move, didn’t twitch, barely breathed. She just stared at the intercom with her full concentration.

Walking away from the door way he paused, then came back. Walking much more firmly and making sure he made noise.

“Ah…? Wrench?” called Stripe in a nervous voice. “Is… is that you? Wrench?”

Ha. She’s adorable.

Walking around the corner he entered the doorway.

“Hey, Stripe. I’m back. Sorry. I realized calling you wouldn’t do anything, I’d have to come up here anyways,” Wrench apologized. “I’m going to get some weapons, put on some armor, then go kill Pretty-Face and all his cronies. I’m done with this.”

“Oh. Oh, I see. Kill him,” Stripe parroted back. She nodded her head, a confused look crossing her features. Then she blinked, her eyes darting up to his face. “Kill him? Oohh… Wrench, he’s really strong. Fast. Do you really think it’s possible?

“I wouldn’t want you to get hurt over this. Couldn’t you just… do something else? Turn off the filter? Redirect it the opposite way? Blow waste into the field and keep us all locked down in here?”

I… ah… huh.

That’d work.

That’d work really well, in fact.

But it’d kill all of her Hab. Not just Pretty-Face.

I suppose it’s no surprise that she doesn’t value them. From what she’s said, she was on the outside from the beginning.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll just kill them all, dump their corpses in the filter, and come back. It’ll be fine,” Wrench assuaged her.

“Alright. Uhm, I was looking at the cameras a bit,” Stripe informed him while pointing at the screens. “There’s some Brawlers in the area between the ducts and the pens. They showed up a little bit ago then just stood there.”

“Did they? They must be expecting something to happen today. I wonder if that’s how long it took for the situation to escalate last time,” mused Wrench. “Well, I’ll go gear up, then get to the butchering.”

“Can-can I help? I’m not a great fighter but I could probably help?” Stripe offered, a crease forming in her brow. The pout that bowed her lips gave her a very lovely if sad look. “I’m sure I could help. What can I do?”

“Ah… don’t worry about it, Stripe,” Wrench answered with a smile. He realized that Stripe could be a useful assistant with how willing she was to jump right in with him. More so than Dusky, as he really wasn’t sure where he fell with her. “Don’t worry about it. If I get hurt, or something terrible happens to me, drag me into the ducts. Feed me as much food as possible. If I can’t chew, liquids with high amounts of nutrients. Just put me on one of the Fixer beds to do it.”

“I can do that! Yes. I can definitely do that. Rely on me, Wrench,” Stripe said with a closed fist. She thumped it against her knee and gave him a firm and sharp head nod.

“I will. Okay. I’m going to go gear up. You just… watch and wait. Alright? Watch and wait,” Wrench requested, then pointed at the monitors. “Do you know how to switch the cameras?”

“Yes. Yes I do. I played with it briefly,” Stripe agreed, nodding her head. “I played with it briefly while you were on the way to the filter.”

“Great, perfect,” Wrench said, then left. Heading out to the Fabrication room.

He’d need to pick up weapons and armor. Thankfully he’d already put in a number of Fabrication patterns before hand, thinking he might need them at some point in the future.

A short time later and after changing out of his clothes and into the armor, Wrench passed by the Security room one more time. He paused at the door and cleared his throat.

“I’m going to head out,” Wrench said. “They still there?

He was equipped with a long-sword, bow, steel-capped wooden mace, arrows, hunting-knife, and was wearing hardened fabric that’d help turn blades away from him. He felt very similar to how he used to when he went out on missions to recruit, resource, or reduce.

Stripe looked over to him and gave him a small smile.

“Yes. There’s four of them. They’re all waiting with clubs and wooden shields. I’m not really sure how they made them or where they got the material, but they do have them.

“So… be careful. It’d be impossible to deal with everyone if you were harmed. I’m not even sure how I’d tell Dusky what happened,” pleaded Stripe. She held his gaze for a few seconds, then looked away, and back to the monitors. Clearly not able to hold his stare for very long.

Wrench glanced to the monitors to confirm what she’d said.

He found that the secondary monitor was set to the Fabrication room.

In fact, it was hard focused on the spot he would have been at just a short while ago.

Where he would have been naked and changing from clothes to armor.

Uh… huh.

Accident maybe? Unintentional?

Curious.

Very curious.

Unable to discern if Stripe had watched him or not, Wrench gave up on it and instead left. He went down the hall to the exit and stood there.

Pulling up his Systems screen he began to quickly cycle through all the changes he typically gave himself for fighting. Moving them in the same ways he’d done repeatedly now.

He also took it a step further and utilized the Integumentary System.

The other day he’d finally discovered what it did when he’d pulled up the Screen and tapped into a few things.

It was a very complicated way of saying it was his skin and a few other things.

He quickly hardened his skin to a much tougher thickness as well as deadening the nerves to some degree. If he was wounded he didn’t want to feel it until later on when he’d have time to bleed.

Upon finishing he dismissed the system window, drew his sword, and took in a slow breath. Then he let it out.

When this is over… I’m taking Dusky to the bedroom. Repeatedly.

Then I’ll give her a dress.

Try to make her understand my intentions. What I want from her.

I can make this work. I just have to put in the work for it.

I was married before.

Briefly.

I know how to actually be married and fuck it up so badly they leave. If I know what not to do, I have a better idea of what to do. Just do a lot of that and try to make it work with Dusky.

She’s curious, she could become interested.

Just… gotta do the work.

Before that though… killing things. Lots of killing.

Setting down his hunting bow and quiver down next to the door, he realized there was no time left to spare.

Wrench took in a sharp breath, then opened the door that led out of the ducts.

It was time to dip back into a lifestyle he hadn’t really delved too deeply in, in a long time. Killing his own kind for one reason, or another.