Author notes: Managed to find some time where I wasn't really doing anything, so I said to myself "I know! I'll write a small interlude chapter, a little break before actions starts up again". Naturally, that "small" chapter ended up being the second longest chapter yet. Yeah...that wasn't supposed to happen.
Ah well. Not much in the way of action here but considering all that's gone off as of late, that's understandable. I think the new Team deserves a little break, right? Updates will remain a case of "if I can find the time and I'm not one foot in the grave" for another few weeks.

Chapter 14: Rebirth

RED team had been annihilated and BLU team had ceased to be. In their place was something new, something different, something...dangerous. The mercenaries had learnt very early on that in this war that you either stood united or you didn't stand at all. What had never occurred to them was that to truly stand, rather than kneel at the mercy of their employers, was that both teams had to stand together as allies rather than foes.

Nobody said it was easy, though. The ex-BLUs held an often chaotic relationship with each other even on the best of days, and with the addition of another Engineer, and the massive task that lay ahead of them, it was understandable that things weren't exactly peaceful. Insults were thrown around with increasing frequency and the quieter and more rational members of the team were becoming more and more irritated.

It wasn't until the Sniper's nerve broke and he pulled out a certain jar that silence fell upon the war room once more. The Australian was normally calm, quiet, and content to stay out of matters, but when he decided enough was enough...well, people sure knew about it. Needless to say, nobody felt like becoming the next target of his jar-based Karate. Medic, sensing the danger in the air and fearing a potential brawl, wisely decided to suggest that everyone should call it a night.

It had been a long day full of chaos, death, sudden turnabouts and revelations. They'd made some progress regarding their next steps from here, and how best to survive the backlash that awaited them, but with the rate things had been going it was clear that the night wasn't going to be productive. The quirky members of the newly formed Team Fortress went their separate ways.

The former RED walked slowly through the BLU base, stifling a yawn. The team certainly had their hearts in the right place, and was clearly full of energy, but they certainly were a handful to deal with. The members of RED could be much the same way but it seemed that the former BLUs were a little worse in that regard, or at least it took less to devolve into chaos. He was quite thankful that the Sniper and Medic had between them ended things before it could get worse.

It was understandable though, they'd gone through a lot, everyone had, and perhaps after suitable rest they'd be able to tackle the pressing issues with renewed vigour and some fresh ideas. He'd been able to disable some of the surveillance systems the Announcer used in the base but all the same, she'd know enough. It would only be a matter of time before someone would be sent to deal with them and there wouldn't be anywhere in the world truly safe for them when she realised what extent they were willing to go to.

The Team had to form a strategy if they were to survive. Teufort wouldn't remain safe for long and additional intel was sorely needed if they were to stand a chance at facing the power the Administrator held. Considering that, the need for supplies and to be on the go, the Scout had suggested that they simply hop from base to base, with the Demoman adding that destroying the bases afterwards to prevent them being used against them might be wise.

They'd have to be able to escape any forces pursuing them, find a way to the inner sanctum of TF Industries, destroy the company and break apart RED and BLU into smaller pieces. The threat of Mann Co, not to mention Saxton Hale himself, also needed to be considered and the Australian weapon company might have to be dissolved...violently.

The Texan wasn't really paying attention to where he was going as he lost himself in thought. Thus, it wasn't too surprising when he walked into a very large mass, then found himself on the floor as the Heavy turned around. The Russian merely chuckled before offering a hand to help the smaller man up to his feet. Of course, it was less of being helped to his feet and more having his arm almost yanked out by the giant.

"Leetle Engineer should keep eyes open when in base of old enemies, da? Would be bad to cause fight between comrades when we must be strong together. This almost happen earlier, not good...but doktor was great, stopped fight, told us to sleep. Is smart plan, you should do as Medic says."

The Engineer couldn't help but smile at the Heavy's simple, but accurate assessment. There was genuine warmth between the two men who not long ago were enemies. There was still some tension but on the whole the former enemies trusted each other and the Heavy in particular was treating him as if they'd been teammates all along.

"Sorry Heavy, was lost in my thoughts for a moment there. You sure said it though, if we're to stand a chance at pulling this off we'll need to put aside the past and our own little issues, focusin' on the big picture. I'm sure that tomorrow everyone will be a might bit better behaved, it's just been a tiring day for us all."

"Da, you are like other Engineer, always thinking all the time. I say you think too much, no good to get lost in own mind on battlefield. Tomorrow will be big new day for team! Must go now, have to speak to doktor."

True to his word, the heavy weapons expert set off towards the medical bay, a happy, carefree look on his usually angry face. The Texan merely stood there a little longer, smiling and shaking his head before he resumed his walk. A little fresh air on the roof would probably do wonders for his head...

The Sniper was on the roof, weapons by his side as he stared into the distance. Or more accurately, stared at the building on the opposite side of the battlefield that had so long represented the nine men he'd been paid to kill. How times changed.

He immediately became alert at the sound of somebody coming up the ladder. His hand immediately went for his SMG, muscles tensing. Sure there was no RED or BLU anymore to worry about and it would just be a teammate but you couldn't be a Sniper for this long and not learn the value of paranoia. Besides, if it was that damn spook or the Scout again come to harass him he'd be more than willing to shoot the bloody idiots.

He was somewhat surprised to see the shape of a reinforced hardhat rise up, signalling the arrival of the ex-RED. The Engineer didn't seem all that surprised that the Australian was up here but all the same, some tension remained between the two for a moment as they simply looked at each other. They both relaxed at the same time as if on some invisible signal, although some healthy wariness remained. Both of them were paranoid as hell when it called for it and it'd served them well enough in the past, so why stop now?

Time passed in that unsteady silence and eventually the Texan, sensing a decrease in hostility, spoke.

"I just want to thank ya stretch for helping end that squabbling."

The appreciation was heartfelt and sincere, causing the slightest of smiles to appear on the sharpshooter's features. Those wankers really did piss him off some days but after so many times of getting urine in the face they eventually cottoned on that there were unpleasant consequences to acting like children.

"No worries mate, we weren't gettin' anything useful done anyway and you'd be amazed at how quick a little Jarate can change almost any situation. Now how about you tell me why you came up here and intruded on a man's right to privacy?"

The question was posed with a toothy grin and a twinkle in the eye behind those aviators, letting the other man rest easy that the Australian hadn't been serious. His mood certainly had seemed to improve from earlier.

"Well, to tell you the truth I just came up here for some air and quiet for a bit, but seeing as you're here..."

"...you're wonderin' what my take on this whole thing is?"

A chuckle and a nod from the Engineer, who seemed to be silently suggesting that the Sniper had read him like a book.

"Roight then...I ain't gonna lie mate, we're in one fair dinkum mess here and I'm not too sure we're going to survive it. That being said, for all the unprofessional chaos of this team and the odds against us...if anyone can do it, we can. We don't have any other options besides the path we've chosen...and I get the feeling that even had things gone differently, that woman would have killed us off anyway. We're a threat to her and threats...tend to be eliminated before they become problems."

There was silence once more as they both pondered over those words, the rooftop quiet, apart from the occasional muffled sound from below. Eventually the Sniper got up and descended to the base below, calling out a "G'night!" to the man who still sat there, thinking.

The new day brought with it much in the way of fortune and progress. The Team was more organised, more optimistic and more willing to work together. The results of the ten men working together was one that surprised everyone for within a few mere hours they'd cobbled together a plan. Some insisted that it was still doomed to fail, with the Spy and Medic both expressing doubt, but even they couldn't hide their hope. The hope that it could work, the hope that it would work, that they could do the impossible and finally end things.

Not by running away, not by being the puppets of the Administrator, not by winning some pointless feud between two old brothers. They'd end it all: RED, BLU, Mann Co, TF Industries, the Announcer herself...everything. It was no good to escape the war when such entities existed with such power over the world. It was no good to slay one dragon and leave the rest alive. No...to truly be free they'd have to stand up and face the world. To be surrounded from all sides, to dethrone the rulers of the world, to rip away the veil of ignorance and destroy the foundations of tyranny.

Ideas were exchanged, new equipment designs were either created or built upon existing blueprints and training began. Theories were tossed around and intelligence, stolen or otherwise, was freely traded and pondered over. Little by little, the team of ten became closer and stronger, becoming something far more than the sum of its members alone.

It was determined that the Administrator's plan behind this whole mess was highly likely to be part of a plot to completely take over the world, with no RED or BLU in her way. Her power at present was strong, but not absolute. By removing the RED team, BLU would be able to takeover the contested territory and the corporation would be able to engulf the rival company. Then when they were distracted and about to crush RED completely the Announcer would be able to take over completely, bypassing the need for the two owners, Blutarch and Redmond Mann.

Considering that Blutarch was the more hasty and reckless, pushing BLU into the offensive more whilst Redmond was more defensive, it made sense that BLU would be chosen over RED. Blutarch would be easier to manipulate into her plot and then remove from the picture. With BLU and RED's assets fully under her control, she would have power like no dictator in history had ever held. She'd be able to exert an insane degree of control over the world behind the scenes with the people being none the wiser.

This revelation only increased the resolve of the Team, who saw now that their struggle for freedom was all so much more than that. It was with this knowledge weighing heavy on their minds and shoulders that they struggled to reinvent themselves as something beyond their mere classes. Knowledge was shared, prototype weapons HQ hadn't authorised them to use were studied, intel was analysed and members worked together on joint projects. Much like the Engineer, they were no longer constrained by restrictions, by regulations, by the tedium of the repeated battles.

Minds were free to think, to explore, to create, to experiment. The former RED and the Medic shared information regarding the medigun and the LFD in the hopes of improving both. The Medic walked away with a new medigun prototype that would put all others to shame and the Engineer refined the existing Übercharge and healing mechanics. The Über-Overdrive he'd unleashed upon BLU team was inefficient, wasting a lot of energy and causing damage to the LFD after use, completely disabling the Über function. With these modifications, the time could be extended and the feature could be used without risking damage for only a small loss of overall power.

Everyone knew that this drive to improve, to become better, to become stronger, to cover their weaknesses...it was more than just trying to give themselves a fighting chance. Their spirits seemed to demand it, demand that they progress, that they better themselves and extend their reach far above where they currently were. They pushed themselves, feeling the fire within swell and grow and thrive on each little achievement, every small step forwards: all the countless elements of progress.

RED and BLU were gone. The former hadn't had a choice in it and were dearly missed, not only for the friendships and rivalries but for the help they would be in the future that would be forged. As mere mercenaries they had all been the best but even the best got tired, even the strongest iron would rust, even the toughest man could break. They had to go beyond being the best, had to go beyond being mere mercenaries, mere men that could be told what to do under threat of death or baited with money.

Team Fortress was more than a dysfunctional group of ten oddballs futilely taking on the world for some vain dream. Upon their shoulders and on their backs they carried the burden of a world that didn't even realise just how in danger it was. In their hands was the power to reshape reality, to make their own path through mountains and men, through fire and death, through pain and suffering and all that could ever stand in their way. And in their hearts burned the bright beacon of hope, of justice, of the need for a better world, of the need to be free, of the desire to make it all end, and the memory of those who had fallen.

Their time at Teufort had ended and they'd turn their backs on the twin bases for what could well be the last time. Turning against the hand that fed them, the system that kept them alive, well-stocked and had given them some purpose in life these past few years...it was time to go. To go and make their dreams reality, to go and leave the past behind, to go and build their own future through force. They stood together, proud and tall, putting their lives in the hands of their teammates, their comrades.

Death was likely, almost guaranteed and yet they would have it no way. These were the men they'd fight alongside, the men they'd gladly die for, the men they'd refuse to watch slip away from their fingers.

The Scout, equipped with a modification of HQ's Force A Nature mark 2 prototype, a powerful nailgun, his trusty bat, a few cans of bonk and flash-bang grenades. The runner wore an aerodynamic jumpsuit of sorts, light pieces of armour placed to protect vital areas whilst remaining close to form and preventing any hindrance of movement. Fingerless gauntlets stretched over his hands and down his wrists over his usual bandages. Upon his back was a small but vital backpack filled with various supplies whilst one wrist held a bulky watch that served as a miniature radar system of sorts.

The boy's hat, earpiece and cocky nature, however, remained unchanged.

Jane Doe, better known as the Soldier, stood to attention, his uniform a darker blue, padded with kevlar at the chest, stripes clearly visible on his arms. An armoured shoulder pad was on his right, designed to help bear the weight of the fearsome rocket launcher he now wielded. With a more powerful propulsive blast per rocket producing faster projectiles and a higher rate of fire combined with the higher yield explosives thanks to some careful tinkering with the Demoman, he would be a force to be reckoned with. Protective boots gripped the ground firmly, a double-barrelled shotgun at his waist and a katana strapped to his back.

The helmet he forever wore on his head couldn't hide the smile on his usually stern face.

The Pyro, even now the eternal mystery, stared into the distance silently, their thoughts kept to themselves. Wishing to remain in their suit, little modification had been made...but nonetheless the firebug was a little better armoured and the gas canister on their back had not only been expanded, but also protected by a metal frame built around it to prevent a lucky shot to the canister which could cause explosive results. Their fingers twitched by the trigger of their flamethrower, which had been tweaked to allow for a more powerful compression blast and an alternative firing method that fired a longer, arcing stream of fire instead of the usual short-range cone of flames.

Behind the lenses of the gas mask, those eyes still burned with ferocious intensity, smouldering with intent.

The Demoman, or perhaps more aptly, the Demoknight, held an appearance best described as a mixture of time periods rolled into one. Clad in pieces of traditional knight armour, made with modern techniques he stood with sword and "Fusion" pipebomb launcher in hand, the metal gleaming in the sun. The explosive weapon was best described as the illegitimate child of the grenade and sticky launchers. The projectiles fired packed more punch than standard grenades and with a simple toggle of a switch before firing, could either be launched like normal grenades that exploded upon contact or after a set time...or they could be spread out across the ground and remotely detonated. The two modes could easily be switched between and reduced the hassle and bulk of two separate launchers. A shield was strapped to his left arm whilst his right held a newly forged blade, a joint effort between the Engineers, himself and with some basis on the knowledge of the RED Demoman had left behind.

He was standing straight enough for now, but the empty bottles left in the base spoke volumes.

The Heavy Weapons Guy loomed above them all, minimal changes to his outward appearance betraying the strength inside. His vest had been reinforced on the interior with steel, causing bullets to bounce off his build with even greater ease. After much persuading and careful thought his beloved Sasha had been made stronger, the minigun revving up swiftly as if eager, modified to be able to directly pull in the bandoleers the Russian wore as reserve ammunition without the slightest pause. On one hip, a weapon that boggled the mind, a quadruple barrelled shotgun, lay in wait, ready to impart enough force to tear off any other man's arms with each shot.

His other hip held a box that contained the sandviches he loved to gorge upon.

Dell Conagher, formerly the BLU Engineer, stared long and hard at the Gunslinger that had permanently replaced his right arm those years ago and given him a real idea of just what he was working for. He wore a combat frame similar to his RED counterpart, but his was better armoured and sleeker in its design, lacking the bulky LFD on his back. Instead his back held what resembled a cross between a jetpack and a backpack...which was not far from the truth. Thrusters on the back worked in unison with those on his boots and the backpack stored vital construction materials and rapidly deployable modified buildings. His pistol and Frontier Justice had been tweaked to pack more punch but otherwise remained the same: the familiarity was comforting in its own way.

The Texan shut his eyes, thinking back to his grandfather and wondering whether it was fate or chance that would bring him to his grandfather's employers.

The Medic surveyed the surroundings calmly, taking in the sights with a detached air about him. The pack on his back running down to the experimental "Life Sparker" medigun glowed, barely even hinting at the great power he held. The Life Sparker held a much greater rate of healing, allowed for patients to be overhealed further than usual and a prototype feature that allowed the beam to be spread onto multiple teammates at once for a reduction in healing speed. It provided an Übercharge that granted extended immunity from damage and knockback and pumped the patient full of energy, allowing for greater strength and speed for a short time. The Blutsauger needles had been loaded with a powerful toxin and his Übersaw was ready if he needed it.
He couldn't resist smiling proudly at the men around him who'd once been so hopeless but had shown him so much and would now bravely march to near-certain doom.

The Sniper's face was unreadable as his head bowed, hat pulled down to further hide his features, hidden in shadow. He carried his stock, well-cared for Sniper Rifle with ease and comfort, glancing down at the boxes of new ammunition he now carried. Powerful twin revolvers he'd practised with and now felt confident using hung on each side, a jar or two remained hidden on his person and he carried a modern-design crossbow on his back alongside well-crafted arrows for the weapon.

Professionals came prepared for everything and he knew he was ready as he'd ever be, especially with the full Thermos Flask of coffee concealed in one pocket.

The Spy nervously smoked several cigarettes at once but otherwise didn't let his emotions show. His normal blue suit had been exchanged for a darker grey one with blue armbands marked with his class emblem. The watch on his left wrist incorporated the stock Inviswatch, the Cloak and Dagger and the Dead Ringer into a single useful device that allowed him greater freedom and with careful thought could potentially be used to cloak indefinitely and sustain minimal damage. The Ambassador was held tightly in one hand whilst the other played absent-mindedly with his butterfly knife, not even showing the slightest bit of caution for the lethal poison that coated the blade and could easily seep through skin.

Reaching for another cigarette and for his lighter, the Frenchman glanced over at the former RED...

The demon was a RED no more but all the same he was clad in dark crimson, browns, greys and blacks. The Crimson Demon had further reinforced his combat frame, improved general efficiency, added an internal cooling system to slow the overheating of his chaingun, modified Vengeance to store more shells at any one time, worked out some bugs with the Overdrives and now...

Now he stood in front of them all, staring at the skies above, the bright sun not causing him to so much as blink. He slowly looked around at his comrades, at the base that had been a key feature in his life for so long and he nodded. One step at a time they walked with the Texan at the lead as they left Teufort, and their pasts, behind. With each step they move closer to their goal, with each stride progression is made, with each pound of the heart the inferno rages within, roaring for release.

For freedom, Team Fortress marches.
For peace, Team Fortress marches.
For a resolution, they march.
For the future they will build, they march.
And for those left behind, they don't look back, they don't hesitate.
And for those they've yet to face, they merely look on and prepare.

RED team died with the destruction of Dustbowl and now, they realised, BLU had fallen then too. The eighteen men spread across two warring mercenary teams were gone and now ten different figures strode out into a world that would swallow them alive, something beyond mere mortal men. Every last one wore the same expression of determination etched onto their features. Every last one felt that same fire burning in their hearts, pushing them on. And every last one wore, somewhere on them, the distinctive emblem that marked them as Team Fortress:

Four elements forming both a circle and a crosshair. A symbol of the clear target in mind, of the death that would await them. An icon representing their union and the separation of their foes into scattered fragments that couldn't threaten themselves or the world ever again. A beacon of hope for those men and perhaps in time for those who would follow the tunnel out of the prison they'd been trapped in, the path forged with their wills leading to a better tomorrow.

They do not fear the odds, nor do they fear death. When one amongst them had already destroyed all expectations and done the impossible, doing the unthinkable becomes a given. And why fear death? They'd already died so many times and it had only made them stronger. After all, without death they could not experience...

REBIRTH.