Jacked, chapter 5. (Patreon)

I haven't forgotten you all - another chapter is set to get dropped in the next couple of days. For now, however, here is this, the thing only a few of you asked for last month. Please enjoy. 

I had been required to adjust my style of course, in order to account for this body's smaller frame and lighter weight. However, enough of who and what I was remained for all to see. Freya slumped against me, back-to-back, in that calm ease two warriors could only have after a battle with one another. A battle with no stakes nor animosity, of course.

"You are he. The single most annoying man I've ever dealt with or faced. Though I suppose she suits you more now."

A gentle elbow to the back of where my ribs should be gave the punchline to her joke.

It was not much of a joke.

Two could play the game of words, however, and she would be free to let her mind run as free as the birds. "You are certainly she. The single most determined woman I've ever met, or faced."

"As if I didn't know you meant an insult by that. 'Determined' my ass."

I'd not dignify those words with a response, as she would already know my thoughts.

"You both alright? You two certainly play hard... some of that looked painful."

Ah yes, we'd had a guest. An audience of one. "We were in control of ourselves the entire time; no lasting damage was done."

It had been a near thing, of course, yet the hurdle had been passed. Freya stood abruptly, one arm around me in order to take me upright with her. "So what now? The site of your attack has been picked clean already, and what little damage remains is not enough to accuse. We only have your brain case to prove your words and seek justice."

Jackal cleared his throat and scratched his neck, shifting as if guilty over some perceived misdeed: "Uh, about that. The markings on the case were damaged; it would be impossible to tell, even with the best reader, who the case is registered as. Even the backup was stripped away."

Freya winced and turned to me anew. "It really is a miracle you're alive at all then, isn't it?"

I could not confirm nor deny, yet I trusted my new-found friend; what use would a lie serve him? He could have left my brain on the dirty street, or even kicked it aside.

"We can prove nothing. So the course is clear. I will rejoin the arena, and I will kill my old body in turn. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, blood for blood. Vengeance shall be mine."

Freya was subdued, looking to both of us in turn. "Why call me in? No, that is a silly question, you need my help to sponsor you, and teach you the ways of combat for a form like you now wear."

She was ahead of herself; I did need a sponsor, as with such a person vouching for me, I could join the arena immediately. Without it, I would need to fight several matches to establish myself, and I doubted I had the time. To think that I needed her help to battle, however - her arrogance knew no bounds.

"You do need my help in some other areas," Freya continued, as if she hadn't seen my unvoiced objection. "Image most importantly. The hobo-chic look doesn't suit such an expensive looking body. We are going to have to wrap you in some quality... and maybe enhance your innocence. Have you given thought to a name you'll fight under?"

I had not. Freya's words were true, of course; image was important for most fighters, and I would need something to catch the fickle public's attention. The more the crowd liked me, the more they would want to see me, and the more fights I would be offered.

I must win them all, of course, yet that was activity where I shone, the least worrisome aspect of the arena I would be involved in.

Freya smacked my shoulder, a gentle rebuke, or perhaps a warning. "Pride has already gone before the fall once. If you don't take this seriously, you will be humbled."

I could not afford such a setback. Even more, her words were true - I had been humbled, twenty-four hours before? "Your words have reached me."

Freya abandoned her newly won argument and switched to the other, as fast as a blink. "So, a name?"

"I do not know." I turned to Jackal.

"I got nothing at all. I'm not good with names."

This we knew. He had named this body 'doll', after all.

"I will give it some thought. There are names that have no owners yet, even in our age."

"As you will." I cared little; we simply needed some image to appeal to the masses. That was what my old nome de guere was, and little more; something like a suit of clothes or armor, to be donned at will and removed as easily, though in practice such armors were harder to slip off then on.

"Follow me, and I'll help you. I'll make you a star!" She said the old groaning line complete with the customary finger guns and one sided smile, driving the joke that was more ancient than our stay on the planet home.

"Well done. Waiting for that chance for years, I'd wager."

Freya's smile became more genuine. "Of course. Isn't everyone?"

Freya's transport pulled up as if asked for, which of course it had been. The door opened, allowing a good view of the empty interior and some glimpse of the armor panels. Freya was not one to take chances.

She gestured. "You first."

I would let her play host. having such a car was easy when your form could fit into it, after all. Though she barely managed such, I would not say so; some things one just did not say, in order to remain polite.

The window was clear enough, I could get my eyes' fill of empty streets, rotting garbage, and the ever-present hopeless poor.

Jackal entered next, and I could feel his discomfort at being squeezed between us.

Freya entered last, and the intent was obvious. Freya did not trust Jackal, and by keeping him between us, he could not use the car as cover and bolt away. The trust warmed my metaphorical heart, as the woman gave it to me completely after a few questions and a few minutes sparring.

We cruised the streets, Freya's as yet unseen driver going carefully and allowing those who used the streets to give way. I approved; we had time. Or we would have time enough.

"Is Frank still working for you?"

"Yes." Freya answered. "He's driving us now, as you suspected."

The darkened glass would not be lowered - a safety feature. Even so, if Freya said as much then it must be so. The drive itself bore all the hallmarks of the careful driver and bodyguard.

For many, Frank was a formidable man. It was a shame he had never sought the arena. Even so, he remained a quiet professional, and one that could be trusted.

I would need to find a new bodyguard myself, eventually. I had little doubt some would take advantage where they saw perceived weakness, and a bodyguard cut down on such encounters.

"I'm thinking we dye that hair, something in two tones, and keep things simple. Some nail polish, some eye shadow, and denim with t-shirts. Simple, easy to maintain even if the clothing rips, and cheap. Hmm... some dresses outside the arena, perhaps?"

Freya never wore a dress, herself. "You don't wear dresses."

"I lack the figure for them. You've seen others of your apparent body type around, even now. Take a look. How many are in dresses?"

There were a significant number in dresses. "And combat capability?"

"You'll wear something under them, of course, just in case. Shorts and a sports bra to preserve modesty, made of modern materials to prevent any... accidents."

I did understand. "Why?"

"Some seek to gain advantage by relying on a woman's sense of modesty, and others do it for a thrill."

I had left such feelings behind. "Surely there are better uses of one's time."

Freya clasped my shoulder. "Never change, champion. Never change."

I could not recall anyone attempting such underhanded tactics with Freya herself, or even those she had sponsored in the past. She must have moved beyond such things as well: "Easy clothing does seem best. For the arena, this body might be further armored, to some degree or another."

"Oh," Freya muttered. She sounded disappointed.

"The body was designed for war, do not doubt, yet the expense is such I'd rather like to protect it from damage where possible."

Freya waved her hand. "Money is not an issue. Even if Jorm's identity and accounts have been stolen, mine are intact."

"Time is another expense," Jackal countered. "I only have so much of that, and I'd rather spend the largest share in it on research."

"A fair point," Freya conceded. "Some armor it is then. Any idea how much?"

"Less than seventy kilos," Jackal answered smartly. "If I can, less than fifty kilos."

Freya whistled. "That little?" She turned to me. "You will flit about the arena as a bee."

I would have to, yet I did not say as much. The time for such doubts was past; I would adapt or die.

"Let us do as you wilt. You shall be my image expert." When I was young, and a fresh arena fighter, I had an image expert of my own. However, he was long since gone, a victim of his own greed and foolishness. He had no experience with female arena combatants at any rate, so I would not use him even were he still alive.

"Oh, you'll be spending the rest of the day with me, as I assemble your new look," Freya confirmed. "You should simply give up any plans you thought you had."

I was no fool. "I have done as much already."

"I haven't," Jackal cried out. "I am interested, but I could use the rest of the day to work on armor and improvements."

Freya gave the man a scathing look, up and down. "You clearly need to get out more, so you are coming to. Besides, you need to be here for this, as I shall be altering the appearance of a body you technically still own, and I would not like to be accused of theft or something similar."

"I would never...!" Jackal exclaimed, only to be grabbed by his shirt and propelled forward ahead of us. Gently of course, as Freya did not truly wish to harm my benefactor. "You're coming. Resign yourself."

Jackal sighed, but marched of course.

the shop we had arrived at is one I vaguely remembered. Which meant its reputation must be quite good, as I cared little for such things. It sported a dizzying array of colorful cloth out front. Some even looked to be of Freya's size... she briefly paused before going in, giving another slight shove to Jackal. The doors were open, and while guarded, those present seemed less than alert. One was even showing the tell-tale sign of playing a game while standing at parade rest.

Jackal didn't even turn to glare.

Bemused, I entered myself.

Oddly, none entered behind us and none approached. Freya looked as if she knew the way, however. She gave me another stare, and I felt her sensors take my measure. Then she grabbed my hand and pulled me down a crowded aisle. "Come on, this way."

We ended up in the section clearly marked for 'normals'... or rather, the section for those women who had mostly normal bodies. Those less than half conversion. Freya turned to me again, and I felt the heat of another scan.

It was a small and uncrowded section of the shop, even for this place. There were so few left. You climbed the mountain or you died. Even so there were those committed to smaller bodies, and this place did cater to them.

I picked at some denim... it was thin, nearly useless.

"Not a bad idea," Freya said. "But I think we should look for something a little more... there!"

The woman pulled a pair of jeans from the same rack, some that appeared old, faded, and already had rips in places. "It'll show off those sculpted legs without appearing to. We should go ahead and buy this size, and something a bit larger so that you can wear them into the arena. A few t-shirts to go with them, and we have a start." The woman holding up her finds, making sure her scans of the sizes were accurate and discarding those that were not.

A start? To me, this would be start and finish. My bemusement grew. Garments flew from rack to shoulder as my companion suited action to words and truly began. Unfortunately, the shoulder used was mine, and my vision was in danger of being obstructed.

I had to resort to dodging, while snagging the projectiles from the air with my other hand as my right anchored those upon me already.

The floor looked somewhat clean, but one could never be certain.

"Good catch!" Freya complimented, as she threw her next thing. It was a creation of straps and cloth that looked as if it should be made of leather, but was not. Cotton, simple fragile cotton, unless I was led astray by touch. This must be the vaunted dress then.

As she had promised outside, Freya threw more to join it.

"We should have gathered a cart."

I could just see Freya shake her head from under the mountain of garments. How much did she think I needed? This seemed enough for any three people of my size. "Nah, carts are for nerds."

A few more, and Freya at last relented, once again taking hold of my free hand. "Come on, almost done."

There was even more, apparently.

Freya moved to a much larger section, and this one had others frequenting it. At last, I could gauge the appearance and responses of others.

All glanced back curiously, mostly in Freya's direction. It was a unique feel, being lost in the glory of another. A feeling I had not felt for some years. It was quite refreshing, actually, as I was free to focus on... undergarments. Yes of course, I should have anticipated such a thing, as this body lacked for nothing. No doubt I would have to suffer some version of 'the talk' from my fellow warrior, as she would feel that I was in need of such a thing.

Just because my own, old body had left such things behind in the pursuit of purest strength, did not mean I was a fool. Though I suppose the current reality would do much to goad others. Even so, my wardrobe could be and would be another tool. As long as those I fought had some focus on my clothing, I could use that as a weakness. I would take all weaknesses others would offer - at least until my current form was fully vetted for war.

Freya had taken her own advantage of my curiosity of others to choose those garments she would. I cared not, as she was bankrolling this endeavor of her own will, and I would wear what she paid for.

"Come on. Let's collect Jackal and pay for this."

I could appreciate Freya. She shopped with a single-minded purpose and fearsome intensity, yet she almost performed the act as I might.

Jackal was near the doors, with a cautious eye cast towards the guards and a coat that looked as if it had seen better days while brand new in his hands. How he had managed such magic, I did not know.

"Are you ready?" Freya asked, giving the man courtesy. I knew the full import of what she was asking.

It seemed Jackal was not. "As I've ever been. I think the bouncers were looking to throw me out."

Freya shrugged. "You came in with me, that wouldn't happen. But come in alone, and things would be different. Only those with money are allowed in this place, and you look like a pauper.

Jackal pointed to me. "Fair point," Freya admitted.

The light of understanding did not need to dawn upon me, of course. It was an old story, of a doctor putting his all into his work, including his finances. It would not surprise me to learn that Jackal only ate quick and cheap prepackaged meals, which was not healthy for one with so little conversion.

Not that I could be counted among those with the right to discuss that. Even my junior warriors, those who barely made any credits at all, tended to eat better than I. Such exuberance came with youth, and was quickly dashed of course, but that was an old story as well.

In truth, there was nothing young or new anymore, and all tales were a circle.

The car was waiting, of course, as Frank was efficient as always. He held open the door for me without a word or even tick of expression, even as he must be filled to the brim with curiosity.

Freya did not entertain just anyone after all, and we were new to the scene, as far as the man knew. As before, Jackal joined me, this time without prompting, and then Freya entered.

the car sinking upon its wheels was all the more noticeable when Freya sat since it had not happened when I had. Of course the vehicle was reinforced, but many such conveyances could not even take one such as I had been. I had to walk most places, and the last time I had been in this vehicle the back had all but dragged upon the road.

Just another difference to note, and one of many.

Even now, the car did have a perceptible lean to it. I found Freya staring me down. "don't even think about saying it."

Hah, of course she knew. "I wouldn't dream of it. I am a consummate gentleman."

Freya snorted to that, even though she knew better. "Well, something like that. It's going to be hard to convince someone of that right now."

It would not be a problem? "Surely not, after all, I'm not the first to be transferred to a body not my original gender?"

Freya shook her head. "You don't want to get identified as one of those right now. Too close to who you were, and you aren't ready. If the thief realizes you did not die, he will come for you... and Jackal. And he will succeed this time. Far better you go simply play the part of a new hopeful with a lucky sponsorship, for now."

She had some good points. "Such a sham will not last long." After all, even as Freya knew me through combat, so would others.

"It doesn't need to last long. Just long enough. Less than a week, certainly. Also, Jackal."

Jackal straightened as if addressed by a superior - which, I suppose, he had been. "Yes ma'am?"

"You're going to have to move your workshop. Once the car stops, we will get out. You stay in it, and guide Frank to your home. He will take care of the legwork of moving you, and you may feel free to command him... within reason. Understood?"

Jackal gulped. "Understood."

There was no arguing with Freya when she was like this... and no reason to. Freya would be a powerful patron for the man, and under her wing he would be reasonably well protected... save from the most dangerous enemies we now shared. For that, we would need far more than simply Frank.

Freya had it, of course. Her security team had only grown since my last visit here. A simple attack would be stopped immediately, and any incursion spotted blocks in advance... the cameras and drones were a constant presence.

The expense must be enormous.

Freya read my mind again, of course: "You can't put a price on safety, and I don't live alone."

Freya had always been a bit of a teacher; she was what many aspired to be, and she taught the ways of war to those who she deemed worthy. Those worthies would live with her. She had not taken any lately as far as I knew, yet there must still be some who remain. Some who serve.

The car stopped, and the door locks sprang up. I wasted no time, and even so almost lost the small race. Freya touched down beside me after jumping her own car with ease. The car sped off as soon as Frank heard the doors latch closed, and we were left alone in front of Freya's spacious home.

It was more a complex than a home, a gated community that sprawled an entire block, even more elaborate than my not-so humble abode. The wall stretched some five meters, making it a mild deterrent on its own, and it was angled toward the street and covered in teflon, which was an effective anti-scaling measure. The razorwire atop it had a current of course, provided by a separate generator, and on the other side lay the real deterrents... and the dogs.

The cybernetically enhanced dogs, bred for strength, intelligence, and ferocity.

At least they knew me. I kept my feelings about such things hidden from them, after all. It wasn't their fault.

The gates opened, the two living alarms handling the heavy work, as the heavy doors were not motorized.

Inside there were more such security; six more, to be precise.

I remembered the dogs did not know the new me, just as the first four approached. All of old shepherd stock, they trotted tall and proud, noses up as they beheld us. They took me in, and my presence next to their master, before approaching. Cautiously, as if I were a strange canine myself.

I held my hand out, knowing the procedure. One by one in turn, I was sniffed, my scent cataloged. Such as it was... I did not understand how the dogs could tell anyone apart, as many of us had to smell of the same metals and vital fluids as the next. Somehow they did manage the feat however, and that was all I knew.

I was not part of the next part of the plan of course. "This is the new Jormungandyr, Treat them with all due respect and clearance."

Cybernetic dogs were somewhat more intelligent than the ones made of meat, and so understanding between us was possible. Limited, yet possible. I should have expected the statement, made not just before the dogs but all her security, before even the gates are closed? After all the cautions about my identity being known before we were ready?

It seemed she truly trusted in those drones and cameras, and their operators.

"Don't look at me like that, Jorm. I know what I'm doing. No one here is going to leak anything."

I believed her; everyone had taken my new appearance with aplomb, without so much a twitch of an eye or lip. Statues all, radiating professionalism. Much as Frank had done earlier.

The doors closed, and a man approached. A full conversion, even as we were, he was both heavy and top-heavy, though I knew from experience it did not hinder the man. His face, stretched across the plate of his skull, was as old leather and had long since lost most expression.

He was known as Dolf, and he was yet another veteran, of both the arena, and a war fought well before my time. He was the oldest man I knew, at over two hundred.

He was generations behind, of course, and yet that seemed to slow him very little. I could best him before, and could best him even now, yet the list of those who could keep such company with me were few.

Even now, some small part of Freya's genius lay in the people she found and employed. Dolf was the head of her security.

"What has happened?" He simply asked, taking in all before him with an eye that seemed almost disinterested. It was not, of course, the man was as committed to his work as always.

"A body jacking," Freya replied, just as simply. Roughly so.

The gasps alone told the tale, and Dolf turned to me. "Truly? If the champion has been taken so, then none of us are safe."

He was stating the obvious as a balm to me of course, for I had long though myself largely immune to such efforts. For years I had been, in truth. My own arrogance had been my undoing, as all present had to know, and yet Dolf was now implying that my own failures were not to blame for my current condition.

Freya seemed to agree with her expert, at least in part: "Right, so let's go ahead and double security. Bring in our alternates. Well, those that are still alive anyway, and let's get round the clock protection."

"What of Frank?" Dolf asked.

"He is seeing to another new charge, the one who saved Jorm here. We shall work to remove this blight from our fair competition and get vengeance for our friend, laid low by the treachery of others."

Well said. The others seemed to think so as well: "Hoah!" they cried as one, coming to attention as if in an army. Many had been in the past, I know.

"Very well, I shall make the arrangements," Dolf replied after the sound died down, walking his own way back toward the house proper with no further preamble.

Freya seemed used to this. "Come on," she said to me, starting her own path... toward the same path.

This was unusual; there was another place for guests, a boarding house of sorts for students and whatever protege she was helping this week. I had assumed I would stay there?

Freya pulled her trick again. "I couldn't possibly send the real champion of the arena into my guest house. No, you're to stay in the main house with me. Our new friend will be give space in my shop, and he will take the room that you feel you should be given.

She wanted me close, then. Did she think me easy prey?!?

No, no, I was easy prey. I had tasted defeat now, and even if it should be through treacherous acts, the fault was mine alone. I might well need such protection.

A hand clinked gently against my metal ribs. "Now now, none of that. I'd be willing to do the same for you if the attempt had failed after all. You should always be more accepting of the help of friends.

I had few friends. In truth, I may not even count Freya among their number. Respected competitor seemed to suit her more. Not that I should say such things in her presence now.

She had looked away at the critical moment, and so it seemed as if my secret was safe.

It occurred to me that we had left the new clothing in the trunk of the car... Freya did not seem flustered by this, so I said nothing. It did beg the question, however. Why had I forgotten?