I know. It's been a while. But look at it this way, I'm just like Valve! Ba-Dum-Tish! Huh? Huh? Huh.
Also, the sniper's name is Bruce Mundy. It was never Ben Austin. We clear on that? Yes? Good.
Also: This Story's Shepard:
Name: Jenny
Gender: Female
Class: Soldier
Background: Spacer
Reputation: War Hero
Romanced: Kaidan
Rachni Queen: Alive
Wrex: Alive
Virmire Survivor: Kaidan
Council: Alive
Human Councilor: Anderson
Alignment: Paragade
...
The year was 2185, and it had been a rough couple of days for Commander Jennifer Shepard. She came back from the dead, killed some robots, ran into Tali, killed MORE robots, and now works for Cerberus, a rather suspicious pro-human black ops. group that operates outside Alliance jurisdiction. During her hunt for Saren, in fact, she discovered that not only were they trying to weaponize rachni, thorian creepers, and even husks; they had murdered one Admiral Kahoku after he tried to investigate them. So yeah. Shepard wasn't exactly keen on working with Cerberus.
Still, it wasn't all bad though. Joker and Dr. Chakwas were both a part of the new Normandy crew. When you're surrounded by old enemies, it's good to have a few old friends close by. And of course, if the Illusive Man was to be believed, Cerberus was currently the only organization willing to do anything about the human colonists that are getting abducted by the collectors. So Shepard was willing to work with Cerberus. For now.
Their first stop would be MANN CO. Station, located on the very border between the Attican Traverse and the Terminus Systems. MANN CO. had been one of Earth's most successful weapon companies for over three hundred years. Sure, their weapons had a tendency to spontaneously combust back in the twentieth century, but years of technological advancements had really made an impact. Now, MANN CO. was one of the galaxy's premiere weapon dealers, releasing all kinds of unique weaponry.
Also, they sold a lot of hats as a side business. What hats had to do with war was beyond Shepard, but she didn't question it.
The Normandy docked with MANN CO. station's docking bay and she came aboard with Miranda Lawson and Jacob Taylor in tow. Jacob Taylor was a biotic and a soldier who worked with the Alliance before joining up with Cerberus, mostly because he got tired of all the political crap in the Alliance. He didn't always agree with Cerberus' methods, but they don't jerk around when the galaxy's at stake, which is why he was with them. He seemed like an upright man, so Shepard trusted him.
Miranda Lawson? Complete opposite. She was a stuck-up, arrogant bitch who was always trumpeting the ideals and great things about Cerberus. Not to mention she was the Illusive Man's personal lapdog. Shepard didn't trust her as far as she could throw her. But, her skills in battle were hard to deny. She was a crack shot with that M-5 Phalanx of hers and her biotics were nothing to sneeze at. Like it or not, Miranda would make a good addition to the team.
The three approached a security guard who gave them all a salute. "Commander Shepard?"
"That's me." the soldier said with a nod.
"Mr. Hale's been expecting you. Follow me." the guard said as he lead the three down the hall.
Saxton Hale VIII, CEO of MANN CO. One thing about the company was that it was very strictly a family business. It's been in the Hale family name ever since it was first inherited by Barnabas Hale from the ailing Zephenniah Mann in 1850. And, from what Cerberus Intelligence has told Shepard, This Hale was every bit as vicious and eccentric as his ancestors. Shepard wasn't too off-put by that comment though. But then again, her old team was composed of a wussy biotic, a racist marine, an angry Turian ex-cop, a Quarian with daddy issues, an Asari with mommy issues, and a Krogan mercenary who liked to blow stuff up. So it wasn't as though Shepard was a stranger to insanity.
"So, when do I get to meet these...'Team Fortress' guys?" Shepard asked.
"We just started thawing them about half an hour ago. They'll be a while longer before they're really ready." the guard replied.
"How much longer?" Shepard asked.
...
"IS COLD IN HERE!" Boris yelled as he struggled to get out of the ice. The nine mercenaries were all chest-deep in the same ice block. Bright red lasers were drilling through the unyielding ice to get them out.
"Mpphhh mphh mphhhh mphh mhh!" Pete protested.
"Yo, I'm with Pete, this SUCKS!" Harry yelled.
...
"Hopefully not too much longer." the guard said. They came to a door and the guard started pressing some buttons. "Mr. Hale is currently in the middle of his morning work out." With that, the door opened. The Shepard, Jacob and Miranda all entered the gym-like room and found, much to their shock, a shirtless, muscular man. He had hair on his chest that was, literally, in the shape of the Earth island-continent Australia and sported a thick brown mustache. But it wasn't the man they were alarmed by.
But the huge red varren that he was about to fight. Bare-handed.
"Commander Shepard, I presume?" Hale asked as he and the varren circled each other on the mat.
"Er...yes."
"Saxton Hale VIII. Pleased to meet you." Hale said. The varren snarled then lunged. Hale dodged and took the varren in a headlock. "Have you been properly briefed on Team Fortress's capability?" He asked. Hale talked calmly, as though he weren't wrestling an alpha varren with his bare hands.
"Er...no." Shepard said. "You need help with-"
"No, I'm fine." Hale said as he started punching the varren's eye. "This guy's a pushover. Now yesterday's klixen. THAT little devil had some spunk in him! Anyway, Team Fortress is comprised of nine members. First, you've got Harry Batovski; rapid recovery. Bit of a loudmouth, but a damn good scout and runner. If you need a soldier to get to you in a hurry, he's your kid."
"Jane Doe; tactical expert and Team leader. He specializes in shock and awe tactics. Not sure if Collectors can be shocked, but he can still blow them to hell if they can't."
"Pete. Just Pete. Pyrotechnics. Likes to play with fire. A lot."
The varren slipped out of Hale's grasp and turned around, snarling at the Australian. "Ooooooh. I like this varren's spiced nutrition paste!" he declared. The varren lunged with jaws wide open, but Hale caught and held a jaw in each hand. The vicious growled as he tried to bite down, but it was no match for Hale's manly strength.
"Tavish DeGroot. Demolitions expert. Real good with explosives. That ship of yours better have booze on it though, or he won't be too happy."
"Boris Ivanovich. Heavy weapons expert. He'll come in handy for when you need to mow down about a dozen bad guys in under five seconds."
"Dell Conagher. Engineer and mechanic. Specializes in building sentry turrets, ammo dispensers and teleporters. He can create his own little fortified position anywhere on any given battlefield."
Hale took the varren in a headlock again, using his free arm to keep the varren's jaws closed.
"Clouse Von Eikshtein. Medical officer. A good doctor. Good killer too. Make no mistake, he's the only reason anyone on Team Fortress is still alive."
"Bruce Mundy. Precision Elimination. Sniper, and one of the best you'll soon find."
"And finally, Phillipe Dupre'. Covert operations. Stealth expert and recon."
A sickening snap was heard as the varren's body suddenly went limp. Hale stood up and dusted off his palms. "Jeeves?"
"Sir?" said a waiter who had been in the room the whole time.
"This varren had a heart full of courage. Remove the heart and cook it. I'll have it for brunch." Hale ordered.
"As you say, sir." The butler said as he dragged away the varren corpse. Hale turned to Shepard.
"I think Team Fortress should be fully thawed by now. Ready to meet them?" the Australian asked.
Shepard nodded. "Lead the way."
...
"Here they are, Commander Shepard. Meet the team." Hale said as he, the former-spectre and the two Cerberus operatives entered the room. Nine individuals stood in the stark white mess hall. They were, to say the least, unique.
Harry wore a baseball cap, a team shirt, running shorts with long socks; basically, he looks to be more fit for the baseball field than the battlefield. The only remotely soldier-esque thing he had were his dog tags. Jane Doe looked like he just stepped out of WWII; the boots, the jacket, the grenade belt, even the helmet which covered his eyes in a comical fashion. Speaking of eyes, Tavish was indeed missing one of his eyes, if the eyepatch was to be believed. He also wore a beanie cap, a jacket that had grenades similar to Jane's, as well as similar boots. Boris was a true giant of a man. He had a big belly alright, but really, he looked to be made up of more muscle than fat. Dell looked like he just stepped off of an old-timey construction sight with his hard hat, overalls and goggles. Clouse looked like an old school doctor, right down to the white lab coat. Bruce Mundy looked like a real Australian Bushman, and finally Philippe had James Bond's tuxedo combined with a burglar's ski mask.
Oh. And there was Pete. Wearing a jumpsuit and gas mask. Flicking a lighter on and off and looking a little too intently into the flame for Shepard's liking.
Jane Doe approached the three other Humans with a smile. "At long last. The great Commander Shepard. Good to meet ya!" he cheerfully greeted.
Shepard smiled. She knew these nine mercenaries came from the 20th century and so knew little of the modern day, but evidently, Jane Doe had heard enough about Shepard's exploits to be impressed by them. Jane Doe walked up to Shepard...
Then past her, ignoring her, taking Jacob's hand and shaking it vigorously.
"Just so you know, I was always a supporter of Dr. King's work." Doe said. "I've seen good black people fight and die on the battlefield. Why I'm best friends with one." he said, jerking a thumb towards Tavish. "And look at how far you've all come in the 22nd century! Saved the galaxy, ya did! You're a credit to your race!"
"Uh..." Jacob said.
"Ah don't be so shy, Shepard!" Doe said as he slapped Jacob's back. "Hero of the Skyllian Blitz, Savior of the Citadel, hell of a track record, son! Once those overgrown metal squids see us, they're gonna run home crying to their mama's!"
"Actually..." the real Shepard began as she stepped forward. "I'm-"
"Ah ah!" Doe said. "The men are talking." Doe said slowly so that Shepard would understand as he gestured toward himself and Jacob.
"Actually, my name is Jacob Taylor. The Normandy SR2's armory officer." Jacob said.
"...Oh." Doe replied. "So, where's this Commander Shepard, then?"
"She is right here." Shepard said as she crossed her arms over her chest. Doe turned towards Shepard. His face cracked into a smile as he tried to stifle back a laugh. He turned to the rest of the team. "Men..." he giggled. "Apparently...we are going to be led...BY A GIRL!"
Doe burst out laughing, as did the rest of Team Fortress, with the exception of Pete who was still pretty intent on that lighter. Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose. Right. These guys came from 1965. Chauvinism was all the rage back then. Shepard figured that if these guys were to respect her, she'd need to demonstrate that it wasn't the 20th century anymore. She patiently waited for Doe to finish laughing, then walked up to him.
"Jane Doe, my name is Commander Jennifer Shepard, Commanding Officer of the Normandy SR2. I am in charge of this mission and you are fully expected to follow my orders to the letter. Am I clear?" she said in a very authoritative tone of voice.
"Ooooooh!" Doe said. "The girl thinks she's the CO! Listen toots, War is men's-" he was interrupted when Shepard grabbed his arm.
"Don't. Call me. Toots." she said.
*CRACK!*
She dislocated Jane Doe's arm, punched him in the face, chest, and crotch, kicked the feet out from under him, stomped on his crotch three times, then once more to his solar plexus for good measure. Doe didn't even have time to yell out in pain. He just laid there on the floor, his mouth agape like a gasping fish, frozen in pain, in too much agony to even make a sound. The rest of the Team was in shock, their mouths hanging open as they saw their de facto leader, one of the toughest soldiers there was, beaten into submission. By a woman. They looked back up to Shepard, who wore a steely gaze.
"Anyone else going to have a problem with having me as their commanding officer?" Shepard asked.
"No."
"Nope."
"Nah."
"Nuh-uh."
"Non."
"Nyet."
"Nine."
"Hudda."
"Good." Shepard replied. She looked back down to the soldier. "How about you, Doe?"
"My arm..." he squeaked out. "You dislocated my arm."
Shepard grabbed the arm in question.
*CRACK!*
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHH!"
"There, I relocated it. Now quit being a baby."
...
And so, Team Fortress joined the crew of the Normandy. After the last few details of their purchase were ironed out, the ship was once again on her way, bound for Omega, the beating heart of the vile terminus systems. Miranda Lawson briefed Team Fortress on what they were up against. A mysterious race known only as "The Collectors" are abducting entire human colonies throughout the terminus systems. The entire human race is in jeopardy and Cerberus is counting on Shepard to combat the threat. Team Fortress is being brought in to help.
Cerberus command will be keeping its eyes and ears open for when and where the Collectors will strike next. When they do, Shepard and the Team will be called in to stop them. In the meantime, Shepard is to continue running around the galaxy, recruiting scientists, biotics, tech experts, more soldiers, the best of the best. A team that will defeat the Collectors wherever they may strike next. The acquisition of Team Fortress was a damn good start, but more experts will be required to combat the threat.
After Miranda briefed them, Jacob Taylor led Team Fortress into the Normandy's armory on deck 2. "Alright, boys." Jacob began as he checked his datapad, then put it away. "I've been studying the armaments you used back in the twentieth century and I think I have some gun models in mind that would best suit your skills and preferences."
"First off, I've noticed that several of you prefer pump-action shotguns over standard assault rifles as your workhorse weapons." He then took out a shotgun that had a dark, purple-ish color to it. "Gentlemen, I give you the M-23 Katana. Good damage, good range, not all that different to what you're all used to."
Jane Doe, Boris, Dell and Pete all grabbed a katana. Tavish Degroot didn't use shotguns back in his day, but he figured he should use one in the absence of any grenade launchers so far. "Yo, I'm not too big on pump action shotguns." Harry said. "I'm more of a scattergun kinda guy."
"I got something for you then." Jacob said. He went over to a table to pick up a compact, white shotgun. "Say hello to the M-27 Scimitar. It can dish out a lot of shots before you need to eject the heat clip, but the trade off is that it's got crap range. Still, it's a great gun if you like to get up close and personal; get really into the midst of the enemy."
"And annoy the crap out of them?"
"Uh...I guess."
"Sweet!" Harry yelped as he grabbed the scimitar.
"Alright. Next up; pistols." Jacob said as he walked over to the pistol bench. "You've got two choices; the M-3 Predator and the M-6 Carnifex. The predator is a rapid fire pistol while the carnifex is more like a magnum with powerful shots and better accuracy, but reduced firing rate."
Dell and Harry each grabbed a predator. Phillipe grabbed a carnifex and then, oddly enough, headed for the door back to the CIC. "Uh...I think you'll need more than one pistol, Phillipe." Jacob said.
"One powerful handgun was enough firepower for me back in ze twentieth century. I doubt zat much has changed in ze two-hundred-odd years I've been frozen. Zis WILL be the ze last time you see me." And with that, he left the armory. His head peeked back in. "In zis armory, I mean. Zis is ze last time you will see me in ze armory." He paused. Then he left.
"...Moving on." Jacob turned toward Bruce, who'd been inspecting the sniper rifles.
"Either a' these bolt action?" The australian asked.
"Well, the M-92 Mantis is a bolt action rifle. It can only fire one shot before you have to eject the heat clip. Personally, I recommend the M-97 Viper. It's a rapid fire sniper rifle that can fire six shots before you have to eject the clip."
"But the shots aren't as powerful, right?" Bruce asked.
"Well, no, but-"
"Pass." Bruce asked as he took the mantis.
"You sure?" Jacob asked. "You can only fire one shot before you have to reload."
"Mate, when you're as good as I am, one shot is all you need." Bruce boasted. He then grabbed an M-9 Tempest SMG as a sidearm. Clouse walked up to the SMG table and inspected the M-4 Shuriken.
"You did not mention zis vhen you vere showing off ze pistols." the german observed.
"That's the M-4 Shuriken. It's a machine pistol, which technically makes it an SMG. It fires in four-shot bursts at an enemy." Jacob said.
"Ooooooh..." Clouse said. "Anysing else?"
"Actually, there is." Jacob said. He went over to the heavy weapons table. He carried over something that made the medic smile.
"Is zat...a medigun?" Clouse asked.
"Fully upgraded and eezo-powered." Jacob replied. "Cerberus engineers were amazed that technology that advanced existed back in your day."
"Yah. Ve vere very careful to keep zis technology a secret from ze public, mostly out of fear zat BLU vill find out about zat technology. Keep it out of zeir hands. Vhich vorked out perfectly."
"But...BLU was using the exact same technology as RED..."
"It vorked perfectly." Clouse repeated darkly.
"Alright, alright!" Jacob said as he put his hands up. Clouse could be very scary when he wanted to be. Clouse smiled. He then left the armory, satisfied with his weapon selection.
"Alright..." Jacob said. "Now for the grand finale. Tavish, Pete, Mr. Doe, time for your weapons." The officer said as he walked over to the heavy weapons table. "First off, for you DeGroot, the M-100 Grenade Launcher."
"Ehehehehe..." Tavish cackled as he took the weapon.
"And for you, Mr. Doe, the ML-77 Missile Launcher." Jacob said as he handed the rocket launcher to the soldier.
"Hooyah!" Doe cheered as he took the heavy weapon. "That's what I'm talking about!"
"As for you, Pete..." Jacob said. Pete's head snapped toward Jacob. The officer held up the flamethrower. "Say hello to the M-451 Firestorm."
Pete snatched the flamethrower away from the armory officer. He gave it a great big hug as he caressed it gently. Boris walked up to Jacob.
"And what of me?" Boris asked. "Any...big guns?"
"Sorry Boris. We don't have any miniguns." Jacob replied.
Boris's face looked neutral for a while. He then walked over to a weapons table and grabbed an M-8 Avenger. "I need to be alone for a vile." he quietly said. He then left the armory.
Tavish leaned over to whisper in Jacob's ear. "He's a wee bit depressed after losing his gun Sasha." the scotsman explained.
"I see." Jacob said with a nod. He figured that these mercs might have missed their loved ones from the twentieth century. He just didn't think a minigun would qualify as a loved one. "Alright. Looks like we're done here."
"What's our first stop?" Doe asked.
"The filthiest, sleeziest space station in the galaxy." Jacob said. "Omega."