Between Walls of Steel

[Centurion]

Cade's cheek stung only half as much as his pride. As the entire cafeteria devolved into madness, he felt the familiar thrill of adrenaline pump its way into his veins. The rest of the violence dissolved into the background, Cade's vision narrowing. The bald man in front of him became the only problem for the few seconds he was left standing. The man had struck Cade with poor form, relying on his size and weight to carry his shoddy stance and weak follow through. He had fought before, but not like Cade had. The man had broadcasted his first punch, much like he was broadcasting this second one. A hook, aggressive but loose. It was the wild swing of an untrained convict, kind of undisciplined swipe you would expect on the street. Cade easily leaned away, weight on his back foot, and let the fist sail by harmlessly. Then, like a coiled spring, the hero did his old mentor proud. He exploded forward, momentum carried through his leg, up his pivoting hip, and into his clenched right fist. Cade's knuckles slammed into the bald man's jaw, a distinct crackle of surrender noting the criminal's near instantaneous loss of consciousness. The young man followed through, just as he was trained, ending the punch with the same grace and control as he had started and not once dropping his guard. Everything moved slow as the first precursors of adrenaline made their full rounds and the hero's body adapted to his heightened state. This included the bald convict, who seemingly melted to the floor. The instant the arrogant skinhead hit the ground, the rest of the world came roaring back to Cade. Shouts, curses, and the crackling of electric batons accosted his ears, a terrifying cacophony of violence. He'd seen worse.

  He absorbed the most important aspects of the battle: Dust tearing through men half his size a few tables away, Moon Knight leaping madly into a swarm that any sane person would take as too large to fight, Marcus ramming into a pair of rather angry thugs, and Dick keeping himself between the raging brawl and Angel. Cade had to respect the older hero's resolve, keeping himself in such an important position. It wasn't until now that Cade had realized how much danger he was really putting Angel in. He had half a mind to fight his way to her, if only to apologize for what was happening, but it registered in a flash of red and searing agony that he had more pressing matters to attend to. Cade screamed hoarsely, more a growl of anger at not paying attention than real pain, and stumbled into a table. Hot pain shot along his spine, emanating from a single point on his lower back and agitating the yet raw furrows dug into his body by Dust in their previous encounter.

  The buzzing vibrato of a filtered voice shouted threateningly for Cade to drop and surrender. Stormtrooper. Better yet: something worth hitting. Cade spun around to face the armored guard. The man gripped his shock baton tightly, the weapon lifted at the ready. Cade dove forward, snarling through the harsh burning along his back, and tackled the Trooper. Using his shoulder as leverage, Cade aimed for the man's diaphragm. A satisfying "Ooof" told the hero he had done something right as the guard's breath was knocked from his lungs. Gasping, the trooper tried to jab Cade with the baton, but the young man slammed down the hand holding it. His weight distributed across the writhing Trooper, Cade focused on prying free the baton. The soldier's grip was unbreakable, fueled by anger and fear. Aggravated, Cade lifted his fist, ready to slam it down onto the Stormtrooper's faceplate. Suddenly, he felt his body lift up from the ground, ribs barely holding together, as he was blindsided by another guard. Cade slammed into the hard cafeteria floor, his vision blurring as the back of his skull cracked the concrete. 

  Feet stomped too near his head for Cade's comfort as the riot continued to rage around him. The trooper who had rammed him pressed his cold, plastoid forearm onto the prisoner's throat, cutting off his air flow. Cade clawed at the forearm, really wishing his Apparatus would listen to him. The discordant sounds of violence started to fade into obscurity and the world became dull. The edge's of Cade's vision began to fade into black as he gasped for what oxygen could press past the Stormtrooper's weight. In his thrashings, Cade felt his leg press against something attached to the trooper's leg. Hope flooded the boy with strength and he reached down, grabbing what he knew to be a shock baton. With a tug, it dethatched from the Trooper's thigh-plate easily. He felt the urge to say something clever, but he could wait until after breathing was no longer pay-to-play. He stabbed the baton into the Stomtrooper's armpit, in the gap between his breastplate and bicep armor. With a flick of the switch, Cade felt the Trooper's body tense up, feedback and tense cries signaling the success of his attack. The young man shoved the trooper away, the sudden release on his throat and the rush of oxygen to his brain likely the most amazing thing he had ever felt. With a gasp, Cade rolled off of his back and onto his hands and knees. Someone crashed into the table beside him, Marcus' foul mouth giving away the culprit. The young hero trusted the Terminator to handle his target, but if he was gonna be part of this team it was time to act like it. Cade stood up, still savoring the taste of fresh air, and threw the baton to his companion.

"MARCUS! CATCH!"

  The Terminator's hand snapped out on command, catching the baton and ramming it's business end into the neck of his opponent. The man the Terminator was tangling with spasmed and dropped with a whimper. The two soldiers locked eyes, Cade's thrill and passion offset appropriately by Marcus' anger and intensity. Nonetheless, there was a moment of understanding and the two launched back into the fight. Cade threw a hard elbow into a man's temple, then ducked under a wild swing of a food tray. He countered with a hard uppercut and a loud "HA!" as his excitement got the better of him. The now recognizable crackle/shout combo sounding out from behind him told Cade that Marcus was making quick work of his own opponents. Cade parried another lazy and unfocused punch, spinning the man around and locking his arm around the convict's throat. He squeezed, cutting off the man's airflow.

"I know brah. It sucks. Just let it happen." The man kicked and bucked for a minute, but eventually succumbed to the quiet song of unconsciousness.

  Cade dropped the man and snapped his head around for the others. Dust was still handling it all with uncanny ease, but the savage nature of his combat was bleeding through the controlled exterior. Marc was almost definitely insane, swinging madly as he was dragged back by a mass of Troopers. Cade took a hasty step, ready to run to Moon Knight's aid, when he heard Angel scream. His head snapped around and he caught sight of Dick grappling a massive brute. Other men were accosting the older hero, challenging his wit and reflexes as he dodged and countered. However, that left Angel unprotected. Whether it be adrenaline or fear, she had found her way out of her chair with wobbly legs. Despite an unsteady gait, the girl clambered over a table and kicked food and trays into the faces of a pair of Troopers. They reached out for her, potatoes and greens splattered on their white armor. Cade felt his nose scrunch up in a snarl, his attention switching between Angel and Marc. Then he remembered: team. How could he forget how well he melded with his family back home. He had to trust. Cade turned away from Marcus' writhing mass of limbs and sprinted for Angel. As he ran past Marcus, he shouted and slammed his shoulder into a prisoner that made the foolish mistake of getting in his way.

"Marcus! Get to Moon Knight!" The Terminator snapped his head around at the callout and refocused his progress.

  Cade pushed through the dense ocean of bodies, many unconscious, and fought towards Angel. He saw her jump to another table, the Troopers scrambling to keep up. Cade couldn't help but smirk. He joined her on the tables, using them to make his progress. He leaped over the heads of convicts and guards brawling madly on the cafeteria floor. Food was everywhere, making for what could have been a hilarious spectacle were the stakes and circumstances not so serious. Angel was just a few more tables away, and Cade leaped to his next destination. Then, he felt something yank on his ankle and drag him back down. With a shout, Cade collapsed onto the bodies of semi-conscious criminals. The skinhead from earlier, bloody teeth bared in a mad grin and his jaw tilted unnaturally to the side, pulled harder on his leg. Cade growled, using the heel of his other foot to ram into the man's fingers. The bald prisoner lost his grip, yelping, and Cade hopped to his feet. He didn't have time for this. The young man stalked briskly towards the skinhead, fists clenched. The man and his bloody teeth smiled and he lifted his hands for a fight.

"Ha! Round two motherfu-" Cade didn't skip a beat, doing with his left what he had done mere minutes ago with his right. The man dropped mid-sentence, body limp, and joined his lawless comrades on the ground.

  Obstacle removed, Cade was able to refocus on what was important. He turned back to where Angel was kicking at the guards from on top of yet another cafeteria table, Dick not far behind still struggling against the absolute mass of criminals. The older hero spun away from the crowd, tripping up one of the clumsier members, and backed up for a breath. In that instant he caught sight of Cade. A glimmer of recognition flashed in Howland's gaze and he glanced at Angel. Cade nodded, understanding, and Dick readied himself for the next onslaught of rioters. The young man sprinted for Angel, screaming at the Troopers to leave her alone. One of the guards turned, baton in hand, and pointed with it.

"Stop right there! Surrender and return to your cell!"

  Cade didn't stop. He kept running, sweeping a tray off of a passing table. The Trooper repeated his order, following it up with "Final warning!" like that was scarier or something. Cade let his body flow, following the step of his left foot with the twist of his hips. He slammed the metal food tray into the side of the Stormtrooper's helmet, eliciting a sharp crack and a cry of pain. He heard Angel squeal again, and Cade snapped his head around to see the Troopers finally grabbing hold of her legs and dragging her down from the table. Cade dropped the now dented tray and ran towards her. He grabbed one of the Troopers and tore him away, tossing the guard to the ground. He punched another, his form deteriorating from fatigue, and felt two more guards grab his arms. Cade struggled like a wild animal, a harsh twist allowing him to use one of the men holding him as a battering ram against another. 

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER!" Cade flipped the other Trooper over his shoulder, grunting from the effort, and slammed him down. 

  The young man stumbled back, motioning for Angel to hide behind him, and watched as a half-dozen Stormtroopers of varying wooziness gathered in front of him. He reached out, into his soul, searching for that old familiar heat. He could feel it, so close, fighting to reach him as well. The apparatus hummed with expectation, desperate to be called upon. Cade flexed his hands, desperate for the nano-machines to encase his skin in fine mesh and silver plating. It didn't oblige. Driven away by the Inhibitor Disc the armor retreated back into the recesses of Cade's mind, almost as angry as he was. Cade glanced back at Angel, the blue-haired girl obviously scared and smeared with potatoes. He locked the image of her face in his mind; A small scrape on her cheek and bruise on her chin told him she had not had an easy time running. That was what he would protect. Cade lifted his hands, spreading his legs to shoulder-width and leaning forward ever so slightly. Perfect form. Janus would be proud. The Troopers closed in, the riot behind them a forgotten mass of flesh and rancor. Cade trusted Marcus to get to Moon Knight, he had no doubt Dust was kicking ass, and there was an unspoken respect for and confidence that Dick was not having as much trouble as one would assume. For now, he had to focus. He had a damsel in distress to save.