Revised on the 24th of September 2017
"Arriving at Watchpoint: Gibraltar."
The AI chimed throughout the dropship's cabin as all six of the occupants could feel the aircraft shifting and slowing its descent in the air. Hearing the thrusters begin to power down and feeling the landing gears plant themselves firmly onto the landing pad. The ramp drops to the ground as Jesse and Angela are the first to climb down, still adorned in their uniforms. Shortly after, Fareeha and the two other "recruits" walk down, as well. They all stopped in their tracks and took in their surroundings under the dusk of the Mediterranean night sky. Fareeha tried to not break her solid composure but still could not help gawk at the Overwatch base she was currently standing in, after all these years. Ana, while not nearly as awestruck as her daughter, still looked around attentively with her good eye as a small smile graced her lips at the memories, at least the pleasant ones. And Jack... Well, it was hard to tell under that mask.
"I'd never thought I'd see this place again," Ana remarked as she slipped her hood off to reveal her cloud-white hair, catching the eye of Fareeha for a moment before she reverted her gaze.
"I could say the same thing about you, Ana," said the approaching voice of a smiling furry scientist. "Same about you too, Fareeha."
His smile slowly faded when he looked at the soldier in the leather jacket. "And I guess you, as well, Morrison."
Ana looked over the shoulder and back at the soldier he was addressing before turning her head forwards with a solemn expression on her face.
"You probably have a lot questions for us don't you, Winston?" the old Sniper asks.
"Yes, of course, thousands of them, in fact!" Winston stammers, the scientist unsure of what words he should formulate in his head before palms his face and lets out a deep sigh. "But not now, it's already getting late. How about you meet me in my lab, first thing in the morning? Still remember where your quarters are?"
"Maybe. I am old, after all."
Winston smiled warmly as he stepped to the side and let the two old soldiers be on their way and watched them walk off deeper into the facility. He turned around and addressed the daughter of the woman he just talked to. Fareeha stood at attention and saluted the ape, catching him off guard.
"You don't need to do that, Fareeha," Winston stated. "I'm not your Commanding Officer."
"Maybe not, sir," Fareeha said as she lowered her hand. "But you are basically commanding the new Overwatch, and I thank you for that."
"Well... You're welcome. You should rest up now. I'll have McCree guide you to where you can sleep."
And as the gorilla watched the Cowboy escort the soldier to her quarters, the Doctor came up to his side.
"Good work on the mission," Winston congratulated.
"Thank you, but we certainly couldn't have done it alone," Angela humbly admitted, wiping a loose bang away from her forehead. "Even if the help was a bit unexpected."
"I'd imagine... So, how did he do?"
Dr. Ziegler looked at the ape, deep in thought, before looking back at the shuttle and watching the dark, brown silhouette of Brin descend the ramp with his weapons and backpack in tow, and that helmet still upon his head. Walking past them without a second glance and further into the base. While his manners and behavior were rather "uncouth" at times, he had shown he was capable in both infiltration and combat. She doubted McCree would still be fine if it wasn't for him. That could probably extend to the rest of them if it wasn't for that "disappearing act" he pulled on the U.N. back there. If only the mission had given her some more opportunities to get to know the man better, have him open up and learn more than just a name from him. Maybe soon she'll get the chance.
"I'll give you my full report in the morning."
The door slides open and Nathan walks into the quarters graciously bestowed to him by Overwatch. The lights turn on by themselves and the door behind him closes by itself, as well. That's one key difference he noticed between this world and his; Everything seems to be automated. He wasn't complaining, but it might take him a while to get used to it before one of his appendages ends up getting caught in something by accident.
His room, now illuminated in all its glory, was not really anything special. It was a decently sized square space, with a blue sheeted bed on one side, a dresser at the wall adjacent to that, and a desk adjacent to that. To the right of the room's entrance was a door that led to a small bathroom with all the amenities: clean sink, clean shower, and even a clean shitter, too. The bedroom also had a window overlooking the Mediterranean, which was nice, he guessed.
Nathan looked at the bathroom before going over to the desk and placing his weapons on it and his pack on the floor next to it. He drapes his duster and bandoliers over the office chair and goes over to the dresser and starts undressing. The helmet, gauntlets, chestpiece, and holsters placed atop the dresser. Then, taking off his shirt, boots, and pants, he is in nothing but a pair of old blue boxers as he walks barefoot to the bathroom. He closes the door behind him to give himself some privacy and flicked on the clear and clean white light. Not a dimming yellow like back home. Leaning against the sink and looking in the equally clean mirror, Nathan stares over his almost naked form. The scars were still there, still aplenty, but he examined his shoulder and kneaded the spot where the screwdriver from days earlier had driven itself into - still clear of any damage. He reaches to his left arm, around to the back of his Pip-Boy. After pressing a few buttons, the hermetic seal of the gauntlet hisses as the mag-locks inside the gauntlet unlock, freeing his left forearm. Slipping the device off, it reveals unscarred and rather pale skin, juxtaposed with the dark and damaged tissue around. His fingers rub over the area, the sensation of his touch almost alien to the forearm. His eyes then drifted back to his own face, staring at his own brown orbs. The man had a blank, deadpan look on his face, just staring at his own visage.
"What are you fuckin' doing?" the Courier asked himself, watching his own head shaking side-to-side. "What did you expect to get from putting yourself out there?"
His face became more rigid, the expression hardening as he leaned closer to his reflection that he was fogging up the part where his mouth was shown.
"Are you really going to kill yourself for a group of strangers? You never had to fight for them, yet you chose that path... How foolish are you?"
He was gritting his teeth now, hacking ragged and uneven breaths from his mouth as he glared at himself.
"Do you honestly believe you will win from this situation? They're probably just exploiting you. Wouldn't be the first time. Why do you even want to go back? To that hellhole. Do you genuinely think that they care about you? Want to you come back? They don't even know you're gone."
Nathan just kept staring at the Courier, feeling the pressure bubble up inside of him as he held his breath. Suddenly, he exhales as if he has been holding it for years and breathes deeply before pinches the bridge of his nose.
"God fucking dammit..."
He finally climbs into the shower and was about to turn the knobs before he noticed there weren't any knobs. It was another one of those "screens" that had a digital slider with numbers next to it that indicated the temperature.
"Jesus," the Waster says, annoyed. "They love that shit, don't they?"
After doing some mental conversions in his head of Fahrenheit to Celsius, he plants his finger on the slider and raises it to a nice 40 °C as hot, but not scalding, water washes over him. It honestly felt lovely, especially with how much of a luxury hot showers were outside of NCR territory back home. Hell, water wasn't even guaranteed to be hot in California. Nonetheless, it felt good to just stand there and savor in all the heat like a lizard on a rock. Helping himself to the complimentary shampoos and soaps this bathroom had to offer, he washed off all the dirt and grime from the mission and before. Discolored water making its way down the drain. Showering for a long time until all the glass was fogged up and his fingers were getting wrinkled. Stepping out of the shower he grabbed one of the clean towels and dried himself off. He put his boxers back on and walked out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, with the Pip-Boy in tow. Going to his bag to retrieve a shiny object first, he practically flops onto the bed with a resounding moan of pleasure at how much better this was than the cell cot. Probably even better that the bed wasn't centuries old by this point, too. Slipping his Pip-Boy back on and rebooting it to link with him, he presses a button and a panel on the gauntlet breaks open and reveals a space for something to be inserted.
He holds up the metal square, a holotape, with a line of white tape plastered on it with the words "Bert Weedon Album" written on it with a black marker. Nathan puts the tape in, adjusts the volume to not garner unwanted attention, and selects the song "Lazy Day Blues" to play from the speaker. As the simple, catchy strumming of the guitar is soon accompanied by an equal simple drum, and then a woodwind, he laid his head back and stared at the ceiling as the song played. His eyes close as he was about to drift to sleep as the song was already halfway done... Until a knocking at his door broke him out of his trance.
"I can't catch a break, can I?" Nathan complained as he switched off the music and got off from bed to answer the door.
Opening it, he wasn't expecting to see Fareeha's mother. He also wasn't expecting to see her so casually dressed, wearing a black turtleneck and slim jeans. She still had the eyepatch.
"Ah, Athena said you were here," the older woman let out, before looking over his almost naked form. "I'm not interrupting something am I?"
"Miss Amari," Nathan kind of greeted, wary what she was doing here at this hour. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"You can cut the formalities. I'm just here to set some things straight and make sure you understand what I'm going to say."
"You're going to threaten me, are you?"
"More or less."
As soon as she answered, Nathan let out a long sigh as he leaned against the frame of the doorway, crossing his arms over his muscly chest.
"Alright," he said, prompting for the woman to speak her piece. "What do you want to say?"
"I just wanted to say I don't trust you," Ana flatly stated. "And I don't think you belong in this new Overwatch."
"That makes two of us."
"And if anything happens to any of my friends here or my daughter - especially my daughter - and you happen to be connected in any way... I'll make sure you regret it. Understood?"
Nathan wasn't the least phased by the threat because he already understood the message. She may not be an imposing figure, but he'd be stupid to not see her as capable.
"Wasn't planning on making friends and I'm already used to this kind of procedure," the Courier responded, as casually as her. "Besides, your daughter doesn't even like me. So, yeah. You're crystal clear, ma'am."
Ana's eyebrows perked slightly as he scrutinized the man's form, noting how rock solid he was during the entire exchange. She doubted he was trying to put up some bravado to save face, but she had to give credit to the younger man.
"A simple 'yes' would have sufficed, but good," she said, a coy smile forming on her lips. "To be honest with you, it's refreshing to set things straight with a man who isn't immediately quivering, stuttering, or urinating himself."
Brin just shrugged. "As I said, I'm used to this where I'm from."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. It's- Well, I think you should ask the ape or Dr. Ziegler about it. Even though I don't think you give a shit."
"I might, now. Good night, Brin."
The older woman sauntered off into the hallway, Nathan watching her leave before he grumbled back into his abode and the door shutting behind him.
Mojave Wasteland, Nevada
2285
The sun was at its peak at noon as the search party consisting of a Ranger, Sniper, and Canine walked through the desert, with the Canine leading the crew as he sniffed at the ground periodically. It had been hours since they left Station Charlie and were currently at the valley where Vipers used to stage ambushes on traveler and traders using the road as a route until they were a taken down a notch. Still, they had to keep their heads on a swivel. Hopefully, that wouldn't be too hard with a 1st Recon Sniper/Spotter.
Their journey had been silent for the most part, the only real exchange between the two about what direction to go to or what they were expecting up ahead. Parmley didn't really mind the silence but knowing that he was traveling with one of Nathan Brin's esteemed companions gnawed at him as questions were festering in his mind. He didn't really want to bother the man and distract them from what they were doing, but a little conversing probably wouldn't hurt. They were going to work together, after all, so it was best to get familiar with him.
"So," Parmley started, glancing over his shoulder at the sniper behind him. "How'd you and Nathan meet anyway? If you don't mind me askin'?"
The sniper was silent at first, his eyes somewhat hard to gauge as his sunglasses. Parmley started to curse himself until Boone spoke up.
"I was in Novac and one night he decided to sneak up to my post when I was on watch, for whatever reason."
"How'd you tag along with him?"
"He did me a favor. And after that favor, I couldn't stay at Novac anymore, but he offered to tag along with him. So, that's that."
"What did he do?"
"He helped me find the person who sold my wife to the Legion."
Parmley froze and instantly turned around to face Boone with a shocked look on his face. Boone still had his deadpan look when he looked back at the Ranger.
"Wow, uhm, uh-" Parmley stammered, trying to formulate the words of his response. "I-I'm really sorry to hear that. I shouldn't have pried."
"You don't have to be sorry," Boone tried to reassure as he crossed his arms over his chest. "What's done is done. Alright? Now come on, we're burning up daylight."
With that done, they continued onto the path and were soon clear of the former Viper valley. However, they were now on the outskirts of the ruins of Nipton. The town stayed a ghost town after the Legion sacked it around two years ago, and while the flames have died down the remains and crucifixes warded off any settlers that dare try to make a home out of it. Not to mention, it already had a reputation before the Legion came around and put an end to their debauchery. Nonetheless, the group carried on, the time for mourning long past, now following the train tracks, and leading them South. Silence once again reigned between the two men and Parmley was much more hesitant to start a conversation with the 1st Recon trooper, afraid he'll unearth more details that should be left buried. Parmley started to see something on the horizon, but a voice from behind distracted him.
"How about you?" Boone asked.
"Pardon?" Parmley asked back.
"What's your story with Nathan?"
The ranger looked at the ground as he thought about that answer. It really wasn't something he could forget. It was the reason he became a ranger in the first place.
"You ever heard of Silverwood, in Caruthers Canyon?" he asked over his shoulder, seeing how the sniper responds.
"Maybe," was all Boone said.
"Well, it's an NCR settlement to the Southeast. Not far from here really. It was built around a silver ore mine so it attracted a lot of people. But there was this clan of tribals, the 'Sand Wolves'. They were mean bastards, killed anyone who wasn't one of them. Wasn't long until they asked help from the Legion to turn Silverwood into something worse than Nipton. The Courier was there, though, and if it wasn't for him and his friend I wouldn't even be here."
"Who was with him?"
"Some… Guy with an eyepatch and a hat. He was ginger and had this big ol' knife around his waist, and had armor around his green jumpsuit. Know him?"
For once, the stern visage on Boone's cracked as one of the corners of his mouth tugged slightly to the side. Though, it wasn't really a smile.
"Yeah," he said as he shook his head side to side. "I knew him. His name was Russell, and he was a Ranger and an asshole."
'Goddammit!' Parmley shouted in his mind. 'I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut!'
"But he was a good friend to Nathan, and I'm kinda glad knowing he was there to help you guys out. What did they do?"
"Nathan and Russell helped form a quote-on-quote militia. Really, it was just a bartender, a hobo, a hooker, a boxer, and... Me. I thought we were going to die that day. However, after we beat back waves of those Legion bastards and sent them running for the hills... Well, let's just say that explains why I'm a Ranger today."
"Nathan always does a lot of good. More than he wants to admit. I only wish he could see that."
Before they could delve further into their shared history, a bark from the front brought their attention to what was ahead and chased after the dog that was now barreling towards a Pre-war site. They soon found themselves at an old drive-in theater, where there were bodies strewn about everywhere. Some of the bodies belonged to raiders, but the others had crimson uniforms. Both the Ranger and Sniper got their weapons out and readied themselves as they walked into the perimeter. Scanning the horizon, they finally spotted where Cooper went and saw he was pawing at the ground next to a large, metallic object embedded within the concrete. Parmley didn't know what he was looking at, but Boone did.
"Damn it," he cursed aloud. "Of course, it has something to do with that thing."
"You know what that is?" the bearded man asked.
"Yeah, it's a Pre-War satellite made by a place called 'Big Mountain'. Apparently, some kind of facility with a bunch of advanced tech and this group of crazy scientists called the 'Think Tank'. I was with Nathan the night we found this thing."
"How do you know all that?"
"Nathan got too close to the thing and, I shit you not, disappeared in a bright blue light and got teleported to the facility."
The man in the western outfit could only gape at what he heard.
"...Yeah," Boone empathized with him. "I didn't know what to think when I saw it."
"How'd he escape then?!"
"He had a device that could teleport him to and back from Big Mountain. It could only work with the person holding it, though, so he always kept it to himself. And I guess something went wrong here."
They looked around once again at the corpses surrounding the satellite, some of them already decomposing and others being picked on by carrion eaters. The one closest to the satellite was a burned-up Legionary with a big super-sledge next to him, and Cooper whimpering and pawing at the ground in front of the Legionary, looking up at Parmley and Boone. A spark from the satellite startled them and caused them to look at the damaged console of the machine. Boone walked up to it and took a closer look, seeing on how malformed and broken everything seemed. He wasn't as handy or smart as Nathan, but he could tell it wasn't going to teleport anyone anytime soon.
"This needs to be fixed up first," Boone noted as he rose and faced Parmley. "Know anyone that could help?"
"Honestly?" Parmley said as his face scrunched up in thought. "I don't know anyone that could help us with this level of tech."
They were in a bit of a predicament. Their trail had gone cold, and that meant the precious time that could be used saving their friend was whittling away. With no other leads than one that involved advanced technology, they were out of their element. Though, Boone had a thought.
"I might know of a group that could help," the Sharpshooter explained, although hesitantly. "Technology like this is their specialty. Though, I'm not sure they would be keen on helping an NCR Ranger and Sniper. They might be keen on helping the Courier, though, as he's done a lot of good for them as he did for the NCR."
"Who?" the Ranger asked, curious who this group was.
"The Brotherhood."
