I think I'm kinda starting to get back into the groove of this fic, now. This chapter was probably one of the most entertaining to write so far, purely because of two characters' dialogue. (I guess I'm kinda doing a bit of a mood whiplash here. Last chapter was sad and dark, and this one has some funny bits.)
~ Response to Reviews Time ~
Wepul – Once again, I must thank you for being my most faithful reviewer. Here, have some more brownie points. LOL Well, I kinda did and kinda didn't. It's a little hard to explain without spoiling the story. XD Thank you! I tried hard to make it seem like the mercs were pretty close-knit, or at least some of them. Yeah, I get really tired of seeing slash story after slash story when trying to find something good to read. :/ (I'm sorry to any slash-readers/writers that might be reading this story. I don't mean to be offensive or anything like that, slash just isn't my thing and I often feel like it gets shoved down my throat with the sheer amount of it that exists.) I might just wind up writing the first year and seeing exactly how much content that takes up. If it's big enough, I might make the split then. Thank you! 3
Xguy110 – Because I like drama! XD Well, I must say that I'm very flattered that you think this is the best story ever.
TheKidWithFluff – Oh yes, IRL friend that read and reviewed only because I told him to. That was totally what I wanted when I asked for a helpful review. XD *Sigh* You're hopeless.
Maybe if the last chapter wasn't worth the weight, this one will be? :'D *Gets smacked for using that joke again*
Team Fortress 2 and All Official Content © Valve
"Careful with the experiments! If you drop them or bang them up in the slightest, the Administrator will have all of our heads on a platter!" commanded Walker from his overlook as the other scientists warily went about the rather demanding work of decanting their employer's projects.
"Hey, just shut it Walker. If you're so worried about this, then why don't you come down and help us out?" asked a gangling, blonde scientist as he and four others carefully lifted the first experiment out of her tube and laid her out on a waiting metal table.
"What? Me? Get my hands dirty with all of that disgusting solution? I don't think so, Lakely. The Administrator put me in charge for a reason," he retorted.
"And just what is that reason? I highly doubt it's because of your remarkable intellect," said another scientist sarcastically, this one short and wearing a pair of incredibly thick glasses.
"As a matter of fact, I happen to be by far the most intelligent one among you nitwits, Cash. Now get back to work before I alert the Administrator."
"Yeah, right," Lakely muttered under his breath. After securing the first experiment to the table, he unlocked the table's wheels and made his way to the right side of the laboratory with her in tow. "You know as well as we do that telling her what we're 'doing wrong' will get you in trouble as well, idiot," he called to Walker before stepping through a door into what appeared to be a hallway in a hospital.
The walls were a creamy off-white color, the floor a smooth and reflective green tile; bright lights were placed at regular intervals down the passageway and closed doors lined the walls, complete with the occasional water fountain or nurse's supply cart. Lakely pushed the table down the hallway for about a minute or so before reaching his destination, and impatiently rapped on the door when he found it was locked.
"Come on, Patterson. Why is the door locked?" He was quickly answered by an exclamation of surprise from a voice muffled behind the door.
"Oh, there you are Lakely! I was wondering when you'd get here," answered a female voice as the doorknob shook about in its socket. She was evidently having issues unlocking the door.
"I'll repeat myself. Why is the door locked?"
"Well, it kind of locked on its own when I closed it. I've been working at it for a bit now, but still haven't managed to unlock it. I was hoping maybe you could help me out?" Lakely smacked his forehead with his hand.
"I can't believe you locked yourself in. And you call yourself a scientist."
"Oh, don't say things like that. They're not very nice. Look, I have a key, it just apparently won't unlock the door from this side. I'll see if I can pass the key under the door to you, and you try to unlock it from outside. Does that sound good?"
"I don't really think there's much of an option." He crouched down to the floor and grabbed the key the moment it passed under the door, promptly standing again and inserting the key into the lock with a twist. He turned the doorknob and was relieved to find that it was no longer locked, and then pushed it open all the way to be greeted by the sight of his coworker dressed in a nurse uniform, her normally unruly brown hair somehow contained in a bun.
"It worked! Great! I knew you'd be able to help me, Lakely," Patterson said as he stepped into the room, pulling the project behind him. "You didn't even bother to cover her up? I'm a little ashamed at you."
"Oh, come on. She's not conscious, so she'll never remember this. None of them will." He pulled the table up next to a waiting tub already filled with water and began to unstrap the experiment. Patterson stepped beside him and began to help, as the straps were proving difficult to pull off when glued to the project's skin by the solution covering her.
"But still, it's not very respectful of her privacy."
"Like I care about respecting some modified clone that's a product of one of that woman's schemes."
"So you plan on taking out your frustration at the Administrator on these poor girls?"
"Maybe I am. Can't really go after the lady herself."
"Well, how is it their fault that they are what they are? They didn't ask to be this way. Have a heart, Lakely." The straps removed, the scientists gently lifted the unconscious girl off the table and into the tub. Patterson rolled up her sleeves, plucked a washcloth and bar of soap from the bucket beside the tub, and began to scrub the drying, sticky liquid off the girl's body. Lakely turned back to the table and prepared to leave.
"So what if they didn't ask to be this way? The fact of the matter is they are… And the future doesn't exactly look bright for them. You know how the Administrator acts when it comes to things that she owns." The room was silent except for the swishing of water and the humming of lights. "She doesn't like letting them escape the underside of her thumb." Finished arguing with Patterson, he pushed the table out the door and back into the hallway. When back in the laboratory, he saw that the others had already nearly decanted the second project.
"What took you so long, Lakely? Don't tell me you were spending quality time with Patterson," taunted Walker from his viewing perch with a cackle.
"Only if getting her out of a room she locked herself into like an idiot counts." Lakely wheeled the table over beside the second tube and helped lift the woman onto it. Then he turned around and pushed the table back towards the hospital.
"Don't take so long this time, alright Lakely? Or I'll have you fired for fraternizing," Walker cried after him. Lakely ignored the rat-like man and continued on his way.
Patterson sighed as she tossed the second bar of soap and ninth washcloth into the bucket after bathing the last experiment. She carefully pulled her out of the tub, thankful that she was not incredibly muscular like some of the others had been, and laid her on a waiting towel. Patterson grabbed another one from the stack beside the bucket and set to work drying the unconscious woman off.
"I don't know why I didn't get any help with this," she mumbled. When the towel had done its work and the woman was dry, Patterson took the last remaining hospital gown supplied to her and worked the woman into it, having slight difficulty when she simultaneously had to keep her sitting up.
"Alright. Up we go," Patterson said as she stood with the woman's arm wrapped around her shoulder. The scientist walked her, if that was what it could be considered, slowly over to the last unoccupied bed, and laid her in comfortably. Patterson stepped back and looked over each of the beds and their occupants, double-checking that all was ready for the next step, and sighing with relief when she confirmed that her job was done for the moment. She started to turn towards the door, but stopped halfway around and hung her head, a slight grimace on her face and concerned thoughts running through her mind. It was times like this that having a conscience made being a scientist, especially one working for someone like the Administrator, a more difficult task than it should've been.
"I'm sorry ladies. I wish you didn't have to go through what the Administrator has planned for you… But I guess it looks like you all were just handed life's short straws. I hope you all can make the best of it." She then twisted around and entered the hallway, making off towards the laboratory at a brisk pace.
When she arrived, the other scientists had already removed their fluid-stained gloves and cleaned off their coats. One of them, a deceptively fatherly-looking man with a neatly trimmed beard, was preparing himself for his next role with a stethoscope wrapped around his shoulders, a fake name tag clipped to his coat's breast pocket, and a pair of shiny black shoes laced neatly on his feet.
"You look very doctorly, Green," Patterson remarked.
"Why thank you, Patterson. You make a good nurse, yourself," he returned, his interest purely token. Walker slinked over to the two, eager to continue with the project.
"So, my wonderfully-disguised 'medical staff'… I take it the experiments are ready to be awakened? They are properly dressed and the hospital setting is flawless?" His giddiness was unsettling to Patterson, but she didn't let it show.
"Yes, Walker. We're ready to move on."
"Good. I'm sure you know that the Administrator will be here for the next step, so-"
"Actually, she will not be joining you tonight," interrupted a female voice. The scientists all turned to face the direction of the interruption, and were greeted by the sight of Miss Pauling striding towards them, a clipboard in hand.
"Oh… Miss Pauling... And just why is she not coming?" inquired Walker, irritable at not being able to personally share his achievements with his employer.
"She simply feels the need to continue her watch on the men to ensure they don't do anything… Regrettable… So she sent me in her place. I hope you don't mind, Mr. Walker."
"Oh no, not at all," growled Walker sarcastically.
"Then let's get going, shall we? The Administrator is expecting this to go as promptly as possible, and no one here wants to disappoint her, I'm sure."
"But of course... Right this way..." The head scientist stalked towards the 'hospital' with Miss Pauling, Green, Patterson, and two other scientists in tow. The trip to the room where the women lay sleeping was done in near silence with the only sounds coming from shoes clicking on the tile floor, but that clicking echoed and rang out the awkward silence between them all. Upon stepping inside their destination, Walker resumed control and spoke for the first time since leaving the laboratory.
"Before we awake them, we need to get them sorted into the proper rooms. We must keep them separated to keep everything as inconspicuous as possible," he stated matter-of-factly as he began digging about in his pockets for the document separating the experiments into either RED or BLU. Upon discovering that the paper was in neither of his coat pockets, he began a more frantic mode of searching, excavating his breast pocket and each of his pant pockets hastily in his mad search for the elusive document.
"Well… It, uh, seems that I have… Misplaced my list… I'll just, um… Davis! Run back to the lab and find that paper! It's probably, uh, in my desk… Somewhere," he commanded a chubby red-headed scientist, who nodded quickly in response. Before he could reach the door, however, he was stopped by Miss Pauling.
"We don't have enough time, so don't bother with it. I can sort them for you," she said as she looked each of the women over for identifying characteristics. "This one, this one, this one, and this one are all on RED," she concluded, pointing out the four women who corresponded with the men lost on RED. "The rest, obviously, are on BLU."
"Thank you oh so very much for your assistance, Miss Pauling," Walker spat. "Well, you heard her. Get those four over to the RED room. Then come back and make another trip for BLU."
The four scientists complied and each pushed a bed out the door, further down the hallway, and around a corner to the right. The second hallway looked much like the first, and the room where RED's future combatants were to be settled was nearly at the end of it. After ensuring that each bed was placed in the proper position, the scientists returned to the room where Walker and Miss Pauling were waiting with the BLUs. Each of them again pushed a bed out the door, but with five BLUs and only four scientists, one was left behind.
"Are you not going to help, Mr. Walker? I don't think she's going to get there on her own," Miss Pauling said, almost mockingly. Walker grudgingly pushed the final BLU out of the room, despite his rather feeble build making pushing the muscular woman difficult, and Miss Pauling followed him and the others down the hallway, but this time turning to the left. Again, the room was at the end of the hallway and the beds were carefully arranged once inside to help further the illusion of being properly cared for in a real hospital.
"Alright… Now that the heavy-lifting is done… We must… Whew… Wake them," Walker uttered through his gasps for breath. "Teller… You have the, uh… The injections, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," replied a black-haired scientist slightly less frail than Walker as he withdrew a package from his satchel. "Here you are, Doctor." He handed it off to Green, who opened it to reveal nine small syringes filled with a cloudy gray substance.
"Okay. Teller, Davis, get out of here now so we can get a move on. You two aren't dressed as medical staff, so you'll break the illusion," Walker ordered, mostly recovered from his exhaustion.
"You do realize that you're not dressed for the part either, right?" Miss Pauling pointed out, beginning to grow weary of the rat-man's idiocy.
"Are you saying that the head of this project, appointed by the Administrator herself, should not be here to witness this critical stage of development?" Walker was starting to reach the end of his patience with Miss Pauling. He knew he had to stay calm, since she was the Administrator's assistant and easily able to get him fired, but she was grating on him terribly and made staying calm difficult.
"Not when he doesn't take enough care to ensure that something as simple as his appearance doesn't ruin such an important project. So I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room unless you want me to report this to the Administrator. Your choice, Mr. Walker."
"Why you…!" Walker could feel a shout coming on, but barely managed to keep it contained for the sake of his employment. He stalked out of the room in a huff, slamming the door behind him, and plastered his face to the window to make sure he at least got to watch. Then, to his further infuriation, Miss Pauling promptly pulled the shutter down, cutting him completely off from the room. Needless to say, he could no longer contain his anger and began to take it out on Teller and Davis up and down the hallway.
Glad to have Walker gone, Miss Pauling took a seat in a dark corner and watched as Green plucked the first syringe from the package and moved to the bed of the nearest woman. He injected her with the solution, which began its work by healing the puncture wound left by the needle. After tossing the empty syringe into the biohazard box mounted on the wall, he procured another syringe and injected the next woman. The process repeated until all five of the women had been given the stimulation injection, and the remaining syringes were carefully wrapped back in the package and placed into his coat pocket. Within minutes, the women began to stir, each moving around and occasionally moaning sleepily. Miss Pauling pulled a pen from her pocket and jotted a few small notes onto her clipboard, quickly looking back up to watch with interest.
The first to finally rouse was the eldest woman, with pale skin and thin, sharp features. Her black hair was thick, streaked with gray at the temples, and fell to the middle of her shoulder blades, while her eyes were slate in color and filled with vitality despite her apparent age. Her face took on a highly confused aspect upon looking around the room, her eyes squinted tightly; she didn't appear to notice Green, Patterson, or Miss Pauling, even when directly looking at them, however. After a few moments of trying to take in her surroundings, she finally spoke.
"Ach… Vhere are mein glasses…? I can't see a zhing," she muttered with a thick German accent as she began feeling the bed around her and the surface of the nightstand nearby. Miss Pauling nudged Green and handed him a pair of glasses she had tucked away in her pocket. She had a feeling that the team had likely forgotten about the original Medic's sight issues and brought a pair with her just in case her intuition was correct, which it turned out to be. Green grabbed the clipboard on the wall, which listed information about each of the women, straightened his stethoscope, and cleared his throat, ready to exercise his acting skills.
"Ah, so good to see you finally awake, Ms. Schulz." At the sound of his voice, she jumped slightly and twisted hastily to face the direction of his voice, attempting in vain to make sense of the blurred shape she was seeing."I'm terribly sorry I forgot to put these on your table beforehand," he said with a good-natured chuckle as he placed the spectacles in her hand.
"Oh, zhank you," she replied, gratefully sliding the glasses on. Now able to clearly see her surroundings, she seemed just as surprised as before; she recognized neither the place, nor the people, nor the hospital gown she was wearing, and was appropriately confused.
"Vhy am I… In a hospital?"
"It's a bit of a long story, ma'am. Could I convince you to wait until the others wake up so that you can all hear the story at once? They should be up soon."
"Zhe ozhers…?" She finally noticed the other occupants of the room, but despite something in the back of her mind nagging that something was familiar about them, she couldn't place anything in particular. She started to say something, but stopped when another woman slowly sat up, her hand massaging her forehead. She had deep brown, almost chestnut hair approximately the same length as the German woman's, and her skin was an average shade, neither pale nor tan. She was easily the shortest of the women and fairly stocky as well; her hands were tough, evidence of the hard work done by the original mercenary.
"Heavens to Betsy… What in the world happened to me?" She looked up, revealing her light blue eyes, and inspected the room to find answers, but was as equally startled by them as the first. "A hospital…?" She discovered Green and Patterson standing near the German woman's bed, and looked all three of them over with a raised eyebrow. "I really hope I ain't interruptin' anything but does anybody mind explainin' exactly why I'm in here?" Green glanced at his list for a brief moment before handing it over to Patterson and answering.
"So nice of you to join us, Ms. Woodham. As I just said to Ms. Schulz here, all will be explained shortly. We're just waiting on the others."
As if on cue, the third woman rose from her slumber. This one was rather heavily muscled, especially for a female, and had shoulder-length blonde hair that tended to curl upwards in a wild fashion. Her dark blue eyes scanned the room and locked onto the doctor, nurse, and two sitting patients, who all felt immediately unsettled under her intense gaze.
"You! Doctor! You are going to explain to me at this very instant why I am being kept here and what all kinds of sick experiments you have done to my body, you pathetic excuse for a man!" She threw her feet over the side of the bed and prepared to stand, much to Miss Pauling, Green, and Patterson's worry.
"No, Ms. Quincy!" Patterson cried as she and Green rushed over to stop the woman, the other two women simply staring confoundedly.
"You can't stand just… Yet," Green added, but trailed off and came to a stop when he saw that she was already standing.
"Ah-ha! So that's what you mad Communist scientists did! You captured me and tried to replace my legs with broomsticks! I knew it! But as you can see, it didn't work! I am of too strong of will to allow my legs to be chopped off and replaced with household objects, awake or asleep!" She attempted to take a step towards Green and Patterson, but her legs buckled underneath her and she collapsed to the floor with a shout. "Gagh! What?! What happened?!"
"If you had taken the time to listen to us, you would've learned that your legs are too weak to stand just yet, and you could permanently injure yourself trying to. And we did not, by any means, attempt to replace your legs with broomsticks. We did nothing with them at all, as a matter of fact." Green was astounded that anyone, mentally unstable or not, could ever be so incomprehensibly stupid.
"Well if you did nothing to them like you say, then why the hell am I in a 'hospital' with legs that won't work?" She stared at him from the floor with such malicious scrutiny that he wanted to do anything but go and help her back into her bed. Unfortunately, that was what he was required to do.
"If you can wait for just a few more minutes, the others should be waking up soon. When everyone is conscious, we will explain everything to you. Now. Will you allow us to help you back into your bed without you wringing our necks?"
"Sorry Quackers. No explanation, no guaranteed safety. And besides, I don't need your help just to get back into a bed." At that, she grabbed the frame of her bed and easily pulled herself back onto it purely using the strength of her arms. Patterson and Green were impressed with the woman's strength, but Miss Pauling expected it. She was a Soldier, after all. "See? I'm not the helpless little damsel you Commies seem to think I am."
"I don't know where in the world you got the idea Ms. Quincy, but we are not Communists. We are-"
"How the hell do you know my name?!" She interrupted Patterson, evidently not noticing the first time she was called by name.
"Erm, it was in the information provided to us through your employer."
"Employer?! I don't have an employer that knows that name! In fact, I don't have an employer at all except myself! You Commies aren't very good at seeming unsuspicious, are you? You're lucky I need you for information, because when I was in the military we gleefully murdered suspicious people like you just for looking at us funny! Which happened to be every time they looked at us!" Green and Patterson were about to take another attempt at calming the crazed woman, but were saved the trouble when a French-accented shout drew everyone's attention.
"Will you please stop screaming, you imbecile? You are getting zhe rest of us, along wizh yourself, nowhere in garnering an explanation." She had apparently been awake for at least a few minutes, and was leaning guardedly against her bed's headboard. Her brunette hair was notably wavy and cut shorter than the others', and her cold, navy blue eyes flitted warily about, studying each of the room's other occupants thoroughly. Her small hands were folded in her lap, and her pale face held a deadpan expression, indecipherable by those who saw it.
"Thank you, Ms. Gravois. Only one more left, and you all will have your explanation," said Patterson with a relieved sigh. They waited in a strained silence for another few minutes before the fifth and final woman awoke. She was immediately visually distinct from the other four, being Hispanic with short black hair and dark brown eyes, and was only slightly taller than the Texan woman. She looked around her with curiosity, examining the room and the other people about her.
"This is strange," she finally remarked quietly with a notable Spanish accent.
"Great! Now with Ms. Cruz with us, our company is finally complete," said Green.
"Alright, now get on with the explanation, Quackers. I don't have all day to sit just sit around and play guessing games with you people. A great war heroine like myself has places to be, Commies to behead."
"Right. Well, we have a special person here to explain the situation to you ladies. Miss Pauling?" At Green's signal, Miss Pauling rose from her hidden spot in the corner from which she had been vigorously taking notes, and stepped towards the center of the room, slightly surprising most of them, who had not noticed her; the French woman was the only one who had already observed her observing them, and eyed her with suspicion that did not go unnoticed.
"Thank you, Dr. Green. Good evening, girls" she greeted in a cheery, amiable manner as she settled on the chair she pulled away from the nearby desk. "I am Miss Pauling, and I am the right-hand assistant to your employer, whom you need only refer to as the Administrator. I know that none of you remember this because of the accident-"
"Accident? What accident?!" interrupted the crazed woman, earning exasperated looks from the other women.
"Please, do let me finish, Ms. Quincy. As I was saying, you are all in fact mercenaries hired by the Administrator to fight for Builders' League United, more commonly known as BLU, to participate in the war against our rival company, Reliable Excavation Demolition, or RED." Some of the women were taken aback at the mention of mercenaries and war.
"Whoa, wait a minute there, honey. You're sayin' that we're all hired guns? I'm sorry, but I don't remember nothin' at all 'bout enlistin' for somethin' like that," said the Texan, a look of apprehension growing on her face.
"Yes, I do believe zhat I vould remember signing up for somezhing like zhat," added the German.
"Hell, I don't know what you ladies are complaining about. Whether I remember signing up for it or not, I'm all for blowin' up some filthy Commies! And maybe some Nazis, too!" replied the crazed woman, causing the German woman to regard her with more than a hint of distrust. "Wait, there will be some Commies to kill, right?"
"Well, there is a Russian, but-"
"Great! I'm in!"
"I wouldn't simply leap headfirst into zhis if I were you, mon ami. Perhaps you should let her finish zhe explanation you were so eager to get," warned the French woman.
"Yeah, I'm wantin' to hear more about this 'accident' before I believe everything I'm hearin'." All of them turned and looked at Miss Pauling expectantly.
"Well, the reason you all don't remember anything about being hired, we're forced to assume, is because the accident happened rather early in your training."
So here's that big reveal I promised you guys. Is it big enough for now? At least now y'all know what the Administrator's project is! And if you're thinking, "Well, how in the world is this supposed to solve TFi's money issues?" just wait and see. All will become clear… Eventually. Next chapter, possibly. Really, just whenever it's most convenient for me to reveal it.
As you can probably tell, I had way too much fun writing our new Soldier's dialogue. I mean, come on. Broomsticks? What was I thinking? LOL But hey, that's the good thing about writing Soldier's dialogue: you could write almost whatever you wanted and it would be believable because Soldier said it. And I suppose that's also a bit of the reason why I enjoyed writing Walker's dialogue. God, crazy people are fun to write. :B
Something I'd like to say now that some of you may have noticed is that, yes, most of the mercenary OCs have appearances based heavily off of existing fem mods, pretty much simply for the convenience of being able to use those models to accurately represent the characters (at least those classes that fem mods exist of), should I ever choose to make posters and/or animations for this story in SFM. But I suppose this story also serves the purpose of more-or-less explaining how the fems could ever have come about to exist in the game at all, so I do have a bit of an excuse. From the next chapter onward, the creators of their respective fem mods will be given the proper credit in the disclaimer. Despite their appearances not necessarily belonging to me, however, several aspects of them as characters in this story were created by me, so they could still be considered at least my partial OCs. So please don't sue me.
However, the scientists are entirely my own creation. I gotta say that I do like several of their personalities (particularly Patterson and Lakely), and don't plan to make all of them throwaway characters, so please don't jump to the conclusion that you'll never get to see them again once I'm through with them here. They'll come back at some point or another. ;)
I know some of you probably get tired of reading this, but please leave some feedback! Reviews are much preferred, but faves and follows are more than welcome as well! Please? *Cue Gaben's Boi Faic since Sniper's Boi Faic didn't seem to work all too terribly well last time*