для Родины!

Zarya had settled on her decision, despite the protests of her manager. Besides, who was he to argue when she had eight inches over him in height and at least a hundred pounds of pure muscle.

She was going to join the Defence Forces.

She showed up at the recruiting office, startling the clerk. He'd been sat there one minute, simply sorting through a mound of paperwork, the next having a shadow cast over him by this giant. She cleared her throat, so as to rouse him from this surprise.

"Erm... can I help you, madam Zaryanova?"

Zarya smiled. Since her successes at the regional and national championships, she had almost became a household name. She was the definition of the Russian ideal: Having started with nothing and worked her way up. Now, she was about to give back to her country what it needed.

"I am here to enlist with the Volga Defence Forces."

The clerk gulped. The Krasnoyarsk Front had become a byword for a suicide assignment. Soldiers heralded being sent from there to the Siberian Front as being leave. It even made being assigned to Volgograd look like a holiday. Perhaps it was that the omnics sent here were programmed and built to be more brutal than anywhere else. Or perhaps, the Omnium had a soecial interest in the region.

"Are..are you sure you want to do this, madam Zaryanova? No doubt you've heard about the fighting on the Krasnoyarsk-"

He stopped, as he noted Zarya's stern expression and body language combined with a raised eyebrow.

"I am sure. Now, shall we get on with this process, or am I to suffer further lectures from a beaurocrat, hm?"

"Erm... there may be one small issue with you joining."

"Yes, what may that be?"

She noted the sweat dripping from the clerk. "w-we... don't h-have women's unif-forms in y-your size."

The eyebrow raised again. "Do I look as though I care whose uniform I wear, so long as it bears the emblem of the Motherland?"

"V-very well. Welcome to the Defence Forces, Comrade Zaryanova."

"One last thing."

The clerk winced. Surely he was for it now.

"Y-yes, Comrade Zaryanova?"

"Zarya will suffice. Make sure the Commisars understand that. And I want to join at the bottom: I want to be where the fighting is, not arguing around a table."

"Very well, Comrade Zaryan- Zarya.

Three Months Later

Krasnoyarsk.

Zarya's expression remained neutral, despite being reasonably happy about this. She could see the looks of concern on her comrades' faces. They were terrified of what was to come.

She'd been fast-tracked through training, despite her requests to go through the normal system. The high command had argued that she was fit enough to pass any test they could assign her, and that all she really needed to survive was basic weapons and tactical training. The weapon she had been assigned was really something. A particle cannon, originally designed to be mounted to tanks. They were originally going to assign her a standard PKM-5 Support Weapon. She made the weapon look like a child's toy, and accidentally broke it on numerous occasions. Even a weapon like an AGS Grenade Launcher or DSHKm .50 Calibre machine gun looked fragile in her hands. It often brought a wry grin to her face, seeing the surprised look of the tank commanders as she marched past. They thought they were the kings of the battlefield... but now, they had met the queen.

Her armour wasn't particularly covert or stealthy, either: it was purpose-built from the same material they made the heavy tanks from. It suited her, even the odd Comrade had commented.

"Three minutes to the battlefield! Be ready for the fight of your lives, comrades!" The call came from the Commisar at the front of the dropship's troop hold. Normally, a Commissar would lead from a Headquarters behind friendly lines. Not Commisar Petranov. Those who served under him were never quite certain whether it was as a gesture of trust to his comrades, or down to the fact that the Motherland's own Queen of Battle had been assigned to his command.

"Comrade Zarya, I am surprised you have never been mistaken for a man." Called Kuznetsov, the youngest and cockiest of the soldiers, from the seat a few down from Zarya."

She chuckled. "On the contrary, Comrade Kuznetsov, I am surprised that you are ever mistaken for a man."

The bay erupted into howls of laughter at Kuznetsov's expense. Kuznetsov turned a bright red. Not that anyone would notice, as the hold was bathed in a red glow as the pilot switched on the landing signal.

Time to go.

Zarya stood up, scooping her cannon off the floor as though it were made of paper. It had made her chuckle, when a few drunken soldiers had attempted to steal her weapon on a training exercise. Four of them beyween them couldn't lift the weapon. Yet she made it look effortless.

The dropship rocked from side to side as the shells outside could be heard booming through the ship.

The ramp begun to slide open, as the lights flicked from red to green. She swayed on her feet slightly, beginning to feel nervous. She shook it off. We've come this far. Don't give up now, Aleksandra!

"URAA!"

As soon as the first troops had disembarked the fight begun. An omnic jumped from the building next to their landing site, smothering a soldier. Zarya turned and fried it to a smoking shell in one burst.

"I thought you preferred being on top, Vladmir." She chuckled, as he rolled out from beneath the husk.

"Very funny, Aleks."

She carried onwards. Within an hour or two, the area her squad had been assigned to take was cleansed of any metal menaces. It was as if they had run, terrified. It seemed as though a squad of them had, upon seeing Zarya. Any rational human at that the sight of her would've ran away screaming for mercy, and who wouldn't? A woman, standing six and a half feet tall, with the appearance of a walking tank, clad in virtually impregnable armour and with a cannon that could take most bunkers in half would be the stuff of nightmares.

She walked into the center of the square, cannon over her shoulder. The Commisar was laid up beside a medical vehicle, being treated for various injuries he had sustained in the battle whilst trying to carry other wounded soldiers to safety.

She leaned her weapon up against the side of the vehicle, resting against it herself. She put her hands on her hips, tilting her head skyward and sighing.

"Well, Comrade Commisar, I don't see any more trouble today. Anything else I can help with?"

"No, Comrade Zarya. You've done plenty today. We could never have beaten off these invaders without you. Go and get some rest, you've earned it.

"Yes, Comrade Commisar. Thank you."

"No, Comrade. Thank you for what you have done. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. This is that step."

With that, she placed her cannon back onto her shoulder, and begun walking in the direction of the accomodation that had been cleared for her squad.

AUTHOR NOTE

Well, that's this one done. I figured that a little bit of background on Zarya would be good. That, and briefly detailing her first battle in Siberia with the Defence Forces.

Pick up on the Vasquez reference, anyone? I figured it fit.

Hope you like this, and when I have better internet (Virgin Trains charge £5 to use their onboard Wi-Fi-Highway robbery!) I'll get to work on my next few.

The next one or two will be oneshots like this, where it is a brief event. I'm going to do one where McCree tries to teach Tracer to use Peacemaker. That should be funny.