Arik was in Training Room A, working up a sweat from pounding on punching bags that he had asked F.I.L.S.S. to pop up randomly. He wore a loose fitting pair of jeans and a belt, but other than that he was unclothed. His armor lay on a bench near the door, placed there by Arik before he had started his training. Through with his warm up, he changed out of his jeans and into his armor, shifting uncomfortably as his helmet plugged into the back of his skull. It might have been a bit of a drastic procedure, but it gave him much more control over his suit than the other freelancers had. He diverted all power from his shields and into his movement, then stepped back onto the training floor.

"F.I.L.S.S., another round of random pop ups."

"Right away, Agent California. Round commencing in three... two... one... round start."

The first punching bag to pop up was right behind Arik, but that posed no problem for him. As soon as he saw the dot on his motion trackers, he turned around and slammed his fist into the punching bag, using the additional force of his turn to hit even harder, knocking the bag off its post and across the room. The next popped up behind him again, and instead of turning, he merely struck the back with a forceful kick. Two popped up on his sides, the one on his left being taken care of with another kick, which Arik used to propel himself towards the bag on his right, throwing a punch and hitting with the additional force provided by the kick. The next bag was halfway out of the floor when an announcement came over the intercom, halting the session.

"This isn't over, F.I.L.S.S., I'll be back." 

"I know you will be, Agent California."

He laughed to himself as he walked out of the room he was in and down the hall towards Training Room C. With a tap on the door controls he entered the room, leaning against the wall next to the two, Alabama and Georgia, it would seem, that were already sitting. Georgia was a big man, but Arik was larger, standing approximately sixteen centimeters over the man and likely weighing a good deal more as well. It seemed some were either afraid or just avoidant of him, though Arik didn't understand why. If anything, he believed himself to be the most physically imposing of the freelancers, and the only thing crew members avoided with him was getting into a fight. Arik gave them both a nod of acknowledgement, then stared off into the training room as he waited.