A/n: What's my excuse this time? Westworld. I literally just watched all of it in 24 hours and forgot anything else existed. XD If you have not seen it, go. Go now. It's 10 episodes. I'll wait. ;D In other news: prepare yourselves, friends. The end of Part 1 is nigh! Reminder that Part 2 will be coming soon (aiming for March), so sub to me or this series to know exactly when Part 2 goes up. :)

[ NATASHA ]

"You say history considers me dead. Who am I to argue with history?" – Kirk, Star Trek: Generations

The base buzzed with activity and preparations over the following few days. They'd heard back from the other rebel bases who were on standby to deploy, the EMPs were ready, and everything was falling into place. Natasha's nerves spiked with the same pre-mission energy she was filled with before setting out on assignment for SHIELD.

Natasha went over the plans with Garrett, and helped Yumi assign people to groups for the operation to be carried out that evening. She loaded supplies into the ships, and forgot entirely about her conversation with Bruce the in hustle and bustle of the day. As the sun slipped below the horizon, the central hangar filled with people, even those who would be staying behind, ready for the mission to officially begin.

Garrett and Natasha and the rest of the lead team came in the far door and crossed to the front of the hanger. Garrett exhaled, long and deep.

"This is it," he whispered to her. "Swear I've never been so scared."

His hands trembled at his sides. Natasha reached out and gave his fingers a quick, reassuring squeeze.

"It's a good plan," she said.

He nodded and stepped forward. As the crowd's muttering and chatting died down, Natasha could see Garrett's resolve solidify. He squared his shoulders.

"First, I wanna thank each and every single one who's taking part in this." His voice echoed through the space, carrying over the anxious and determined faces. "And every one staying behind, supporting this—hell, just being here, in this base, flippin' the bird to the Coalition."

Garrett raked his hand through his blond hair.

"I have no illusions that this'll be the end of something," he continued, pacing back and forth. "Can't topple what they've built in a day. We've been chipping away at them for years. This'll be a hammer blow—with any luck, a cragging good one that'll…break a leg or something."

He grimaced and a murmur of laughter rippled through the crowd.

"Whatever, screw metaphors. Look, my point is…" Garrett slowed to a stop and his eyes darted from face to face. "We worked hard, we trained, we prepared. I don't have some inspirational speech. Just get out there, be safe as you can, do your part, come home. Kick the cragging Coals in the cragging ass."

Shouts went up from the crowd, followed by applause and whistling. Garrett waved them off but smiled anyways, then gave the order for everyone involved in the mission to move out. Natasha adjusted the straps of her pack and took a step forward but stopped when she felt a tug on her sleeve.

Edie peered at Natasha, half of her face hidden by her dark curtain of hair.

"Hey," said Natasha. "What's up? Everything okay?"

"In case you don't…" Edie mumbled and her cheeks flushed pink. She cleared her throat and grasped Natasha's hand, pressing something small into Natasha's palm. "In case I don't see you." She turned to hurry away into the retreating crowd.

Natasha glanced down to see a delicate, tiny green dragon made out of heavy paper. Her gut fluttered. Though they shared a room and spent most of their lunches reading together, they hadn't talked a ton. The fact that Edie still gave her a little parting gift like this, touched her.

"Edie, wait!" She caught up to the girl before she got too far away. "I...thank you."

Edie ducked her head shyly and suddenly darted her arms around Natasha, hugging her tight. Natasha blinked in surprise, then gently hugged the girl back.

"Thank you for being my friend," Edie whispered into Natasha's shoulder.

Natasha eyes prickled with emotion. Before she opened her mouth to reply, Edie let go, and slipped into the crowd. Natasha looked at the adorable dragon and slipped it securely into the stiff pocket on the side of her pack, hoping the little guy survived the mission. She hoped she would, too.

She spotted Veer climbing into his assigned ship. He startled when she grasped his arm in a tight grip and leaned close to him.

"If I don't make it back, you take care of Edie, you hear me?" She stared him down.

Veer's eyebrows rose high on his forehead and he looked like he was about to make a joke, but Natasha's dead serious expression didn't waver.

"Yeah, Red, yeah," he said quickly instead.

"She's a good kid and she needs a friend and someone to look out for her," Natasha told him sharply. "Promise me you'll watch out for her."

"Of course, I will—promise."

She held his gaze another second and released him. "Good."

His expression changed from mildly alarmed to knowing. "It'll be keen, Red."

Natasha had the urge to tell him goodbye—what if she was zapped back to her time during the mission? What if he was killed out there tonight? What if she was?—but Natasha hated thinking about what ifs. Just about the only thing she hated more was goodbyes.

She forced out a smile. "See you."

Veer saluted her. "Right on that, Red."

Somehow, in his soft half-smile, she knew he heard her saying goodbye friend, just in case anyways. Her eyes stung again, so she quickly walked away. Behind her, she heard Hattie ask,

"What the crag was that about?" She didn't hear Veer's answer over the noise in the hanger and blinked away the moisture trying to pool in her vision.

Natasha climbed into her assigned ship and settled down next to Garrett. He didn't say anything but offered her a quick nod. A few minutes later, their ship blasted out of the hangar, joining the half dozen other rebel ships filling the darkening Australian sky.

To the Coal's credit, they didn't have just a singular central system somewhere, where one strategic hit would conveniently knock out everything, like the plot of some action movie. They'd built their little white paradises carefully, distributed their computer systems around so that if one server or generator went down, nothing else was compromised. It made the rebels' job harder—harder, but not at all impossible.

There was a reason it had taken the rebels months and months to plan and coordinate, never mind all the time spent gathering materials and building dozens of EMPs. Now, finally, it all came to a head.

When the ship landed in a pristine courtyard in Whyalla, Natasha, Garrett and their team of five emerged to turmoil. The ground assault teams from Icarus base and Haven base were out in full force, battling waves of Pockers. Natasha dove behind an elaborate stone fountain for cover as gunfire swarmed into their direction.

For several minutes, everything was complete chaos. Screams and shouts from all sides. Bullets and laser bullets flying through the air. Bodies falling in bloody heaps—rebels with mis-matched homemade armour or no armour at all; white-clad Pockers, the blood like red paint splashed over them; the odd civilian who chose to run through the scene instead of following the rebels from Serenity base, in charge of clearing "regulars" from the city. Grenade explosions, the rumble of EMPs set off at different locations throughout the city, homes and buildings going dark.

Natasha bolted from obstacle to obstacle with her team away from the main scene. Ophie and the other four crowded close to Garrett and Natasha, covering them from enemy fire as much as possible. After one block, they broke free of the main fight. They pounded over the pavement, Ophie in the lead, tearing past a few civilians huddling in shock.

A group of six Coals poured down the street in their direction. Natasha jumped into the mouth of an alley with Garrett while the team dispatched the Coals. It rankled her a little to be hiding instead of fighting, but it was all part of the plan to get Natasha and Garrett to the server room at Zuiver.

"C'mon!" Ophie bellowed and they all took off again, leaping over the bullet-riddled bodies of the Coals.

They hurtled down the street and straight on towards Zuiver Tech, still shining and opposing, even after dark. They barrelled up the sidewalk and shot at the glass lining the front of the imposing building as they ran.

Natasha leapt over the window frame, slipping a little on the shattered glass bits underfoot. Several different alarms sounded, lights flashed, and security Pockers swarmed into the lobby. Natasha swerved to the right with Ophie and another team member, and they took cover behind a massive metal art sculpture. Garrett and the others made for the reception desk. The Pockers overturned coffee tables and couches, and dropped behind them.

The firefight went on too long—the seconds flew by as the rebels and Coals traded bullets and laser bullets, ripping up the pristine walls and floors and expensive furniture. The rebels had expected resistance from the Coals, but not this much right here—the majority were supposed to be dealing with the chaos two blocks over, not guarding this office building.

Natasha crouched and reloaded her weapon. She and Garrett needed to get out of this and upstairs, fast. Ophie mumbled curses under her breath and fired at the Coals. She stopped to check the walkie hanging at her side for a few seconds, listening intently.

"Serenity's crews are getting civvies evac'd fast as hell," she reported close to Natasha's ear over the din. "And sounds like Icarus and Haven are spread over three districts. Coals are cragging themselves—all the generators and tech this side of Zuiver are down."

They shared a flash of a smile and refocused on shooting back at the Coals.

Garrett made a break for the bathrooms, maybe twenty or thirty feet away from the reception desk, just past the expansive lobby. The rebels behind the desk laid down some cover fire, and when Natasha and Ophie and their third joined in, the Coals scattered, leaving the opening Garrett needed.

Laser bullets scorched past Natasha, one coming so close it left a hot black streak on her long-sleeved shirt. She ducked out of sight again to catch her breath.

"We need to get out of here," she growled aloud. Even if she could get herself to the bathrooms like Garrett, it was still another thirty or so feet after that to the turbolifts.

"Go," said Ophie. "We'll cover you."

Natasha nodded once and took off, trusting her friend to have her back. Her feet smacked against the tiles and she twisted to shoot behind her as she ran. Gunfire erupted behind her, fiercer than before, punctuated by shouts. Her pack jostled and shuddered on her back. Garrett motioned her his way, but bullets tore at the doorframe around him and he jumped back into the bathroom. Something tore across her side, fiery and sharp. Natasha veered away and dove into an alcove holding a fake plant and a painting on the opposite of the room from Garrett. She crashed to her knees, out of sight from the Coals.

"Shit," Natasha held her hand to her hip. It burned and bled, but that wasn't the worst part. She could feel fluid soaking into the fabric of her pack.

Hissing through her teeth, she shrugged out of the straps. The pack and its contents had protected her from the onslaught of bullets for the most part—she could feel some sore spots where bullets had nicked her. But if the bullets went through the pack to her skin, that meant…

Praying she was wrong, Natasha unzipped the top of her pack. Her heart sank. Inside, the EMP was in pieces, shot to hell and leaking. Worse still, the casing of the box holding the handprint they needed to the server room was swiss cheese.

She tossed the useless bag aside, cursing a few more times under her breath. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Getting into the server room just got way more complicated.

Natasha realized someone was calling her name and peeked around the edge of the wall. Garrett crouched in the doorway of the women's bathroom. His shoulders slumped in relief when he saw her. She gave him a wave to tell him she was okay, and he nodded in acknowledgement.

Carefully, she poked her head out a little bit more so she could get a look at the lobby. The other rebels were still pinned down behind the reception desk and the sculpture, but they were keeping the Pockers busy. Bullets and laser bullets alike streaked over the open area, tore into walls, and riddled the shiny tile floor with smoking holes.

Natasha tucked herself back behind her scrap of wall and looked ahead to the bank of turbolifts, roughly thirty feet away. So close, she thought, and yet so far. The door to the stairs was even farther. Either way, she and Garrett would have to make a run for it, and it was a lot of open space to cover without getting shot. With her EMP gone, however, it was imperative Garrett made it to the server room in one piece.

She took a deep breath in, focusing, the world slowing around her as her mind raced. The layout reminded here her of a mission she'd run with Steve and Thor a couple months back. Difference being, of course, back then the demi-god took care of distracting the baddies while Steve used his shield to cover Natasha as the pair of them made a run for it. So, with no Thor and no Steve, what were her options?

Garrett reached around the doorframe to shoot. Her own gun had more than enough bullets left to cover one of them getting to the turbolifts—one of which indicated it was at ground level. The EMP inside her pack wasn't any good, but that didn't mean it was completely useless, same as her pack. And she had damn good aim. Garrett let off a couple shots and slipped his head back in the bathroom.

The plan formed as fast as she assessed her situation.

Natasha snatched up her pack and wore it backwards, so the bulk of it sat in front of her. She fished out a chunk of metal that had broken off the machine and held it tight in one hand. She peered slightly around the corner again, catching Garrett's eye. She motioned for him to toss her his gun and he blinked at her like she was insane.

Trust me, she mouthed.

His mouth thinned into a line and he hesitated, glancing at the chaos raging in the lobby. With a shake of his head, he slid it across the floor. It skidded over the broken glass and tile; Natasha reached out and snatched it up. He watched her, worry creasing his forehead, waiting for her next move. She held up her hand—wait.

Natasha stood. The wound at her side screamed with a fresh wave of pain. She gasped and bit back a shout. She tucked her gun into her waistband, held Garrett's gun in her left hand, and readied the EMP metal with her right. She took another deep breath to focus and center her, her gaze zeroing in on the panel beside the ground level turbolift, and she threw the metal shard.

It sailed across the open space and Natasha's aim was true; it pinged against the turbolift's control panel. The buttons lit up and the turbolift dinged.

"Now!" Natasha hollered over the din to Garrett.

He bolted. She grabbed her own gun and swerved out into the open, facing the lobby. She fired with both guns, peppering the lobby and the Coals with bullets, while hurrying backwards towards the lifts. She heard Garrett shout and she picked up the pace. Return fire sizzled through the air around her, twice hitting the pack on her front, but the mess inside stopped the bullet from punching through to her chest.

Then she was in the lift and Garrett smacked the button to close the doors, huddling out of the way. Lasers crackled into the wall above her head and then the doors slid mercifully shut. The lift ascended with a slight jolt and a soft whooshing noise.

Natasha exhaled.

Garrett collapsed against the wall. "Holy cragging hell, Natasha."

She handed him his gun back. "Thanks." She shrugged off her pack and let it drop to the floor. The pieces inside clattered and clinked.

Garrett glanced down. "Did it…?"

She shook her head and he paled. "Swiss cheese. Hence, using it as a shield to the lifts."

He nodded unhappily. "And the handprint?"

"We'll have to improvise."

Garrett glumly nodded again and she could see his mind spinning, the worry clawing at his chest, panic tickling his bones.

"We've still got yours," she reminded him firmly. This was far from over and she wasn't going to let him think for a second it was.

He didn't reply and his eyes strayed to her blood-soaked hip. "You're hit…"

She brushed away his concern. "I'm fine."

He grimaced and for a second she thought he was about to chide her, but then she noticed the way he curled his shoulder away from her, tucking his left arm against himself. And the droplets of blood on his shoes.

"Shit, are you shot?" She stepped in close to him, tugging his arm away from his stomach. Beneath his vest, she could see the red soaking his black shirt. Between the darkness of his pants and other clothes, it was difficult to tell how much blood he'd lost, but one look at the pallor of his face, and she could tell it was a lot.

"I'm fine," Garrett insisted testily.

She glared it him. It was one thing for her to have a slice in her hip and another for him to be bleeding out from the gut. He was the leader; she was just his backup. He pulled his arm away from her to hold it against himself again, and she let him.

"When?" she asked instead.

His wince this time was more one of embarrassment than pain. "Almost as soon as we hit the ground."

Natasha clenched her teeth together. That'd been at least half an hour ago—no wonder he looked so rough. The lift slowed to a stop and she readied her gun.

"We're almost there," she told him. "Just hang on."

He chuckled. "You too, Natasha."

She flashed him a smile. "Right on that."

The doors parted, and though both of them stuck to the sides of the lift and stood at the ready, no shots came. Natasha cautiously peeked into the corridor beyond to find it blissfully empty. She waited a breath, stuck her arm and shoulder out farther, then waited another breath just in case, but there was only silence. Just the muted hum of the artificial lights in the ceiling.

"We're clear," she said.

Together they ventured out in the hall. Thankfully, from here, it was a straight shot to the server room.

"We need to get this open." Garrett leaned against the wall beside the heavy door clearly labelled "SERVER ROOM" and curled his arm tighter against his stomach.

"Any suggestions?" Natasha asked. She eyed the handprint scanner—maybe she could tear apart and rewire it, but after the shootout downstairs, they were low on time. The Coals would be scrambling for back-up from any city not under attack and their resources were ample.

Garrett nodded. "My pack. Brought some bammer just in case." He turned so Natasha could access his bag.

She unzipped the front pocket. "What the hell is bammer?"

"It's old school explosive stuff," he said. "Like a sideways kinda clay. You rip open the plastic, mash it all together, stick it where you want it and—"

"Bam?" Natasha supplied with a smirk. She held up a palm-sized package of blue stuff.

Garrett grinned over his shoulder at her, though it was tired and lop-sided. "You got it."

She tore away the plastic and squeezed the blue stuff together. It had the consistency of play dough but gave off a strong chemical smell, like burnt rubber and spray paint.

"Slap it on the hinges," Garrett instructed. "Then back up—quick."

Natasha did just that. The bammer sizzled and crackled.

"Fire in the hole," he mumbled.

The hinges exploded in little bursts of flame with loud pops, and the door toppled to the floor with an incredible crash.

Natasha waved her hand to clear the smoke as they rushed into the server room. Garrett staggered over to one of the desks and set down the EMP from his pack with a clank. They popped open panels, flipped switches, and then Garrett tugged out the remote they'd use to activate it.

Natasha's eye caught on the blinking computer screens in the room. "Wait," she grabbed Garrett's arm before he pressed the green button. "I have an idea."

He looked at her incredulously. "Now? "

"Don't set it off."

"Natasha—"

"No, listen. The Coals haven't been prepared for ancient tech all along, right?" She whirled and dashed to a computer. Natasha hissed as the hole in her side pulled and stung.

"I don't see—"

"Why take their system down temporarily when you can take it out permanently?" She typed across the slim keyboard, her nails clicking on their shining white surface.

"D'you think—can you do that?" Sweat slid down his cheeks, sliding past the darkened hollows under his eyes.

She shot him a cocky smile. "I'm really good at hacking."

He huffed out a laugh, swaying on the spot. "This another one of your special skills?"

"Mmhm."

Natasha worked fast. The system was, of course, not familiar to her. She was no genius like Tony, but she'd been hacking into computers since they were a thing. After a minute where Garrett anxiously waited with his hand on the trigger, urgently mumbling her name, she found a rudimentary way into the computer's code. To her delight, as she entered a quick line of test code, the system responded.

The Coals, it seemed, had dismissed old technology in every part of their lives.

She smiled. "Got it."

"For real?" Garrett blinked at her in surprise and moved away from the EMP.

"It's gonna take me a few minutes but it's working."

He glanced at the screen. "Keen…"

She didn't bother to explain the particulars as she typed hard and fast, knowing their window was limited. They should have set off the EMP by now, sending Zuiver Tech and the other half the city into a blackout.

The walls shook as something like thunder sounded outside. Garrett looked up in concern at the rattling ceiling and hobbled over to his discarded pack.

"Crag," he wheezed, clutching the walkie close to his ear. "Coals are bringing in bombers now."

Natasha's heart sank. They'd been hoping the Coals wouldn't be able to scramble so fast, what with all the EMPs knocking out communications and generators here in Whyalla, as well as several of the closest Coal cities.

"Guess they can fly faster than we thought," she said.

Gunfire peppered the halls not far from the server room. Garrett cursed and dragged himself to the doorframe, gun up and ready. His arms shook with the effort of holding it straight.

"How much longer?" he asked, pressing himself against the wall for support. "They're coming for us."

She spared him a split-second glance—he looked haggard, bloody, and about to collapse. She needed to get him out of here, but she had to finish or this whole thing was for nothing.

"Not sure," Natasha replied.

The virus she was inputting was long and complex, but it would snarl the system beyond repair. The Coals wouldn't be able to just turn everything back on after so many hours, as they would've with an EMP. Plus, this would shoot out into all of the other systems connected to Zuiver—topple one domino, and the rest would follow. It'd allow the rebels a better chance of more victories in the future. They wouldn't have to start over while the Coals regrouped.

The floor rumbled and the gunfire grew louder.

Blood soaked her hip and seeped down her leg. Natasha gritted her teeth and typed faster. Explosions jostled the whole building and the console shuddered. Garrett let out another groan behind her, and she heard him slide to the floor. She forced herself to ignore him. They did not come all this way to fail—she wouldn't let them.

"Natasha!" Garrett shouted, and she whirled around.

The shot screamed through her skin near her collarbone, and as she hit the floor, pain exploded through her chest and arm. The world spun. She gasped for breath, struggling to focus.

Garrett raised himself to one elbow and unsteadily fired. One bullet clipped the Coal in the doorway—likely the one who shot her—and he tumbled face first to the floor, unmoving. Natasha sucked in a few more steadying breaths, pulling her mind together and wrestling her pain away from the front of her mind.

Pale and sweaty and bleary, Garrett squinted at her. "Natasha…?"

She nodded and rolled onto her knees. The hole at her hip screamed in protest. She held her jaw together against the roar of pain that surged through her veins when she dragged herself to her feet. Using the console to steady herself, Natasha planted her feet and kept typing, leaving bloody fingerprints across the keyboard.

The klaxon alarms dimmed to a dull roar. Her focus narrowed to the computer. The explosions became muffled, the rumble of chaos became background.

She smashed in the last line of code. The holoscreen flashed with code and activity, zipping through all the ancient commands Natasha had laid into it. She allowed herself a small smile because it was done—she'd done it—and then she was on the floor again.

Funny, she didn't remember falling.

Light from the computer flickered above her, colors and code flashing as the system destroyed itself. Some of the alarms banging through the building sputtered and ceased. The lights on the rows of servers lining the shelves blinked out one by one.

The ceiling swirled in her vision. Natasha pressed her shaking hands to the aching, wet spot by her shoulder and tried not to throw up.

"Hey…Natasha…" Garrett rasped.

She turned her head and he swam in and out of focus.

"Did we…did you…?"

"Yeah," was all she could manage.

His battered, handsome face broke into a wide grin and he laughed. It was warm and flooded with relief and definitely a little hysterical. Had she the energy, she would've joined him, but the blood loss was getting to her. She hoped help would come soon although by the sounds of the battle still raging outside, that wasn't going to be for a while. She wanted to crawl across the floor, get up, get out. She wanted to survive this—she'd survived so much —but she was so damn tired.

You have to hold on, she thought, and the voice sounded so much like Clint's. Nat, you have to go back home. Come back to me. You have to hold on.

I'm trying, she thought in response. Her breaths grew shallower and she didn't think she could hold on, not this time.

"Hey…Natasha?" Garrett's voice broke through her haze. "Why are you…glowing?"

Delirious, she thought. He was dying too.

She held up her quivering hand, painted red and definitely not glowing. "Not," she said.

He peered at her, eyebrows crinkling, and shielded his eyes. "Yeah, you're all...too bright and...N–Nat?"

Natasha blinked and inhaled. The world dissolved, falling silent, white, and ice-cold.