Revised on the 19th of October 2017
AN: Hey, guys! I just wanted to say that Uni is going to start again rather soon for me, so expect future chapters to be coming along at a much slower pace than usual. I will be updating the story, but it will vary. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but that's just the way it is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
On another note, I'm going to start using these author's notes to respond to Guest Reviews. I won't respond to every Guest Review as that depends on what the review is about. I'm mostly using these to provide a "Behind the Scenes".
ZILLAFAN: To answer your question, Nathan isn't wary of Torbjörn because he's like a mutant as that is not how Nathan's mind works. He gets along rather fine with Ghouls and Super Mutants back home, but in the same vein as he gets along with other humans; He doesn't fuck with them unless they've given him a reason to. So far, Torbjörn hasn't really given a reason for the Wastelander to be wary of him until he saw his attitude towards Bastion. The same can be said for Omnics, as Nathan has a rather neutral stance with them, overall.
Now, without further ado, the story.
Oasis, Iraq
2076
A giant white riverboat with graceful curves and flourish colors drifted across an oasis in the desert, carrying its occupants through what was considered a jewel in the desert. A city of scientific marvels and wonders. There were a lot of pretty sights and attractions that caught the eyes of tourists standing on the boat's deck, from the advanced, clean architecture laced with old décor to the beautiful vistas not usually possible in a desert. A man leaning on the boat's railing – dressed in a dark, short-sleeve dress shirt, beige khakis, and a pair of aviators – found himself overlooking parts of the city as they flew past. Moving slowly on the horizon or zipping by from up-close. He stared more at the large tower in the middle of the city, going far up to the sky and taller than anything he's ever seen. Yet, it didn't even look finished as there were exposed beams at the top with construction equipment all over. Blowing cigarette smoke in its general direction to watch it rise into the clouds. A woman came beside him to lean against the rail on his side. She's blonde, is wearing an orange dress shirt under a white shirt coat, and faded jeans. She has the same shemagh around her neck as she did back in Egypt.
"Smoking on the job?" Angela said to him, humorously but with a slightly disapproving look on her face. "You know that's not healthy for you."
"I've ingested worse," Nathan remarked, tapping on the stick to get some ash off. He accidentally spills some onto his Pip-Boy's screen and tries to shake it off with an annoyed expression. Afterwards, he turns his gauntlet to address the cartoon face on the screen. "You sure it's a good idea to have this thing out? It's pretty unique."
"Bodyguards and paid mercenaries have all types of gear and equipment with them, nowadays. It's bordering on impractical, really. It shouldn't stand out too much, but it certainly is bulkier than most… So, what do you think of Oasis?"
"Hmm… A city assembled by some of the greatest minds in the world, meant to be a haven of scientific progress with no ceiling and no restriction? Not too excited."
"How come?"
"Past experiences. The 'no restrictions' policy sounds nice on paper but isn't all that nice in practice. Remember those 'anomalies' you found over my body?"
"Yes. Were those-?"
"Some of them were. Don't be surprised if I get a bit antsy if any of these scientists are examining me a bit too closely."
The Doctor would've scoffed at the obscenity of such a statement if there wasn't evidence to the contrary standing and smoking right next to her. That, lumped in with some her own past experiences, too. Nonetheless, she still had to give credit where it was due for Oasis as it was still a scientific miracle in this world, despite present company's opinions on such things.
"But that's a story for another day," Nathan told, standing up from the rail to pick up his duffle bag and some of her luggage. "Looks like we're here."
Angela turned around to see their ship was docking at a terminal and it was time to depart. Grabbing her bag, she slung it over her shoulders and stepped off the ferry and into the terminal, her bodyguard in tow. As he keenly looked around, finding some familiarities with this terminal. It wasn't long when they finally outside, immediately being greeted by a well-kept, humble garden housed in archaic yet modern so Arabic architecture. As Angela gawked at the beautiful scenery, Nathan scouted around and noticed a man walking up to them. He was a dark-skinned, middle-aged man with graying hair, wore eyeglasses, and a suit under a white coat. Nathan nudged Dr. Ziegler, before gesturing to the approaching man. Her face lit up into a friendly demeanor, as did his.
"Doctor Angela Ziegler," the older man greeted in an accent, grabbing her hand, and shaking it graciously with a bow. "Welcome to Oasis! It is an absolute honor to have you here in our wonderful city!"
"Thank you, Doctor Hassoun," Ziegler acknowledged as she kindly returned the gesture with a bow, as well. "And it is an honor to be invited!"
"Please, call me Ibrahim."
He let go of her hand and then addressed the tall man next to her, extending his hand to him.
"And you are…?"
"James Boone," the bodyguard iterated, taking the scientists hand in his and giving it a firm shake. "I've been assigned to be Doctor Ziegler's security-detail. I hope this isn't too much of a problem."
"Oh, no, of course not," the Scientist said, shaking his head. "Someone like Doctor Ziegler certainly cannot afford to not be too careful, especially these days! Fortunately, you'll find you won't work very hard in this city; We are one of the safest places in the world!"
"So, I've heard. I'll be counting on it."
"Of course! Now, if you two would please follow me."
The Founding Member of Oasis, well, just one of them, began to lead the two through the gardens, practically guiding them on a tour and showing off one of the many testaments to the city. Gardens like these are a rarity in deserts, at least for "James" it was. Bright and colorful flowers surrounded by green and well-trimmed bushes were only a dream for Pre-War Suburbanites. The heat was also something different. In Giza, the heat felt like he was walking through Arroyo on a mild day, but this place felt much more temperate even with the Sun blistering above them.
"Now I can see why you wished to meet us here instead of the airport terminal," Angela stated, looking around in awe. "This place is lovely!"
"First impressions are everything," Ibrahim responded, proudly walking along the clean paths. "And I'll be sure to tell our 'Ministry of Biology' what you said. They would be delighted to hear it spoken by you!"
While the two doctors exchanged pleasantries about their current environment, the Courier couldn't help but not share the same sentiment. While he could not deny that it at least looked pretty with the rows of colorful flowers planted in uniformly across equally symmetrical structures, it still did not feel completely right for it to be here. It all felt out of place as if it was too artificial for him to fully appreciate. Compared to the forests he was trapped in at Germany, the best of what this "Ministry of Biology" could cook up paled in comparison. Hell, even some pockets of wilderness back home could do the same thing, Zion and Mt. Charleston coming to mind. He was too used to wandering wilderness, it seemed.
Dr. Hassoun led the two down a set of stairs to a courtyard, a wide-open space with a pillar in the middle and an octagram of flowers at its base surrounded by a square of grass. On top of the pillar was a concrete walkway that was perpendicular to another walkway that connected two buildings overlooking the square. There were other planters located along the walls and the pathways, and some people meandering about the garden. Many of them were modestly dressed, locals and tourists going about their day and enjoying the atmosphere. One exception is when Nathan heard some rustling and saw a woman attending to raised planters that were built alongside the wall immediately to their left.
She was dark-skinned, and her outfit was a futuristic-looking dress with a mix of clean white and a dark blue triangular pattern. Bits of gray metal also dotted her uniform, and she had gray pants with white lines at the outer sides of her legs. Much of her hair was neatly tied into a bun as she wore a visor with an orange tint over her eyes. Perhaps the most curious piece of apparel was on her left arm: some type of black glove that went up to her shoulder, had bits of a white metal-like covering, and an orange "light" in the middle of her palm. The only exposed parts of skin were the tips of her fingers. Her hands were at work, meticulously arranging the flowers, her face neutral yet focused. She honestly didn't look like a gardener.
Dr. Hassoun approached her, the woman noticing and slightly jerking out of surprise, yet she quickly regained her composure and addressed the doctor with a professional visage and her hand cupped at her waist.
"Ms. Vaswani," Ibrahim greeted, but with a quizzical tone. "Is something the matter?"
"Your plants seem… Unkempt," the woman stated in an accent that signified she was not a local, either. "I believe your gardener has done a subpar task at maintaining these flowers."
"I honestly see nothing wrong with the flowers, but I apologize if they have bothered you in any way."
Hassoun looked at her and noticed she was staring at something behind his back, and he turned around to see his guests staring back with quizzical expressions.
"Oh! Where are my manners?" he lamented as he stepped aside and began to introduce them to each other. "Ms. Vaswani, this is Dr. Angela Ziegler and her bodyguard, James Boone. We have invited them to Oasis to honor her for her work in medicine and as a charitable Field Medic around the world. Dr. Ziegler, this is Ms. Satya Vaswani of the Vishkar Corporation, sent to us as an envoy on their behalf."
Angela was about to step forward to offer her hand but was caught off guard as Satya bowed deeply to her, instead. The lighter skinned woman could only return the gesture, not as deep and somewhat awkwardly.
"Greetings," the Vishkar envoy said with a straight face. "And might I say that your face is of perfection."
"Oh, uh, thank you!" she responded to the odd compliment. "I like your hair."
"It could use some improvement."
Her ungloved hand went up to adjust her black hair until her eyes landed on Nathan. They stared at him, her eyes squinting as if she began to scrutinize his form. The man stared back, his brow furrowing and wondering what was up with her. Her eyes then drifted lower, to his left arm. Nathan noticed her eyes scowl for a split-second before going back to normal.
"It was a pleasure meeting both of you," she abruptly said despite sounding halfhearted. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
"Of course, don't let us keep you," Hassoun said, the group stepping aside and watching the woman go up the steps they had just descended. Without further ado, their host began to lead them on the tour through their garden again. Question festering in his guests from their encounter.
After about half an hour of their host showing them the sights, Angela spoke up and told the doctor that she wished to go to their hotel to finally rest, expressing fatigue from the journey. Ibrahim understood and gladly summoned a cab for them to take them to where they were staying. The cab, which turned out to be a limousine, floated in to pick them up. After Nathan loaded in their baggage in the truck, they two climbed in.
"I'll see you at the banquet, Dr. Hassoun!" she elatedly exclaimed, waving goodbye to him before closing the door.
After that, she then sat onto the fine leathers to sink into them, reclining her head back and letting out a tired sigh as she closed her eyes. The sound of ice clinking against glass made her open her eyes to see a small glass filled halfway with a caramel-tinted liquid and three ice cubes held in front of her. She looks to her right to see Nathan sitting right next to her, a glass of his own in hand. Angela takes the drink from his hand and cups it in hers.
"Danke."
"De nada."
After expressing gratitude, she brought the brim to her lips and took a sip of the contents, feeling it burn across her tongue and down her throat. "Mmm! Strong! I usually don't drink on the job but there's no shame indulging yourself, occasionally."
"All in moderation," Nathan agreed, taking a larger sip of the drink as he looked around the limo's interior, especially the little bar he had helped himself to. "And I have to say, they sure as hell are not sparing any expense having you around. Hassoun was true to his word; 'First impressions are everything.'"
"Heh, if only we were here strictly for pleasure," she sighed in a hushed tone. "If only."
They rode the rest of the car ride in relative silence, their limousine eventually pulling into traffic. The Waster watched as cars, or theirs', zipped by others at neck-breaking speeds. And they were a lot of them. Quite a contrast from the packed highways he was used to, except the cars didn't move unless detonated. After around ten minutes in traffic, the passengers felt their limo decelerate, slowing down significantly as it pulled up to the curb outside of a tall building. The sign out front sported a logo that looked like diamonds imposed on one another and beneath it was Arabic words.
"The 'Golden Tower Hotel'?" Angela let out, being able to read the words. "Hmm, we might be in for a treat."
Nathan opened the door and got out first, holding it open for Angela to climb out before shutting it closed. After he retrieved their luggage from the trunk, they then walked into the lobby of the hotel. It was a busy, rectangular space, a huge dark-blue rug with diamond taking up most of the middle space with tables and smartly designed chairs planted around its border. The Doctor spotted the receptionist desk, manned by a young tan-skinned woman in a formal casual shirt, and went over to it.
"Hello, I'm here to-"
"Dr. Angela Ziegler, isn't it?" the receptionist said, cutting off the Swiss woman and surprising her. "We already have your room prepared, ma'am. On behalf of the Ministries."
She handed her a small envelope that contained the keycards to her room. All the while with a smile on her face. For some reason, that was a bit unnerving for Nathan to see.
"Oh, uh- Thank you!" the Doctor expressed, taking the cards in her hand.
"You're very welcome, Doctor," the receptionist replied. "Please call us if there's anything you need."
Walking away from the desk, the two made their way to the elevator and stepped in as the doors slid open. The doors closed back up and they were alone. Angela then noticed something about the keycards they were giving, noticing they were for a slot that was on the elevator panel itself. Curious, she placed one of the keycards into the slot and after a small beep, the elevator began to move without any other interaction. It was quite a long ride, Nathan wondering if something was wrong with the elevator until they heard a ding and it made an abrupt stop. The doors opened and revealed a wide-open space of a hotel room that made the two practically drop their jaws to the ground in awe.
They walked out into the living room, furnished with fine couches and a love seat with a coffee table in the middle, facing a large TV screen hanging over a fireplace. To the right of that was a large full-fledged kitchen with a counter and cabinet tops made of the finest stones and woods, respectively. Ahead of them were glass sliding doors that led to a large balcony with planters and a hot tub. Finally, there were another set of doors right of the living room that possibly led to the bedrooms, still yet to be seen, but if what they had just witnessed was any indication…
And he thought the Lucky 38 and The Tops were top-class.
"Jesus-fucking-Christ!" Nathan drawled out, dropping their luggage out of shock-and-awe. "I said it once, I'll say it again; They're sparing no goddamn expense having you here. Damn, looks like they just comped you the damn presidential suite!"
"So, it seems…" the Doctor muttered, going towards the loveseat. "I wouldn't have minded anything more… humble, but…"
Without a second thought, the Swiss Doctor flopped onto the loveseat burying her face into the soft fabric of the puffy cushion with a huge grin on her face and eyes closed in bliss. She rolled on her back, hugging one of the pillows close to her chest and letting out a huge sigh of relief. Working constantly and tiresomely in Overwatch as the Head Doctor and as a Field Medic in disaster and war zones just weeks prior really took a toll on her. All luxuries bestowed upon she took without a second thought, when there was time, of course. After lying a few moments on what seemed like a cloud with a hint of pleasurable fragrances, Angela noticed something cast a shadow over her and opened her eyes to see Nathan standing over her.
"Getting comfortable?" he asked rhetorically.
That only garnered in her nodding, eyes blissfully closed, with her face still pressed up against the pillow. He perked one brow and displayed a slightly bewildered expression since he's never seen the blonde Doctor act like this before. Sure, she was friendly and kind at times but was always attentive and rarely broke her professional façade for other than a few bursts of laughter. It was different seeing her like this.
The Courier let out a sigh, shaking his head as he went and retrieved their luggage to place it closer to the table. Grabbing his duffel bag, he zipped it open before rummaging through it and pulling two things out: A holopad and his .45 Pistol.
"Too bad we still have work to do," he stated, placing the pad upright and activating it.
"Ugh, don't remind me!" Angela lamented, rising from the loveseat, and going over to the couch and sitting next to Nathan. "I feel like this will just make me regret answering the 'Recall' more."
As they waited for the holopad to boot up, Nathan fiddled with his 1911, ejecting the magazine and pulling on the slide to check the chamber. Everything seemed to be in working order. Then, they heard the elevator door ding.
Nathan slammed the magazine into his and racked the slide, before rising and pointing the muzzle at the entrance. Angela rose too, yelping out of surprise, and tried to lower his shooting arm. The doors opened, and someone passed through, the Courier tightened his grip. Then, a glimmer of gold flashed in the sunlight and Nathan brought the muzzle in the air and his finger off the trigger. It was Fareeha, dressed in a leather jacket, dark jeans, and a pair of aviators. She had a duffle bag slung over her shoulder.
"For Tandi's sake…" he muttered under his breath, lowering the gun, taking the magazine out, and ejecting the cartridge.
"You might need to keep that thing holstered, then," Fareeha responded, walking forward, and dropping the duffle bag behind the couch.
"How'd you get in?"
She responded by merely holding a white keycard in the air, different from Angela's but similar to what he used in Egypt at the compound.
"Ah."
"And I must say, this is quite a room, Angela," the Egyptian said, taking off her aviators to reveal a pair gawking at the accommodations. "This beats the barracks, that's for sure. Did you two contact Gibraltar, yet?"
"We were about to," the Swiss woman responded. "Should we at least wait for Jack and Ana, first, now that you're here?"
"Don't worry about them. They'll be here soon. Now, the earlier we contact and inform Winston, the better."
It seemed like she was rushing things a tad, but the two went along with it and got back to the holopad on the coffee table. Fareeha walked over and took a seat on the couch, flanking Nathan on the other side. Finally, the screen blinked to show the familiar face of their boss, Winston.
"Ah, glad to see you've all made it," he stated with a smile, which shortly disappeared as he leaned in closer and saw there was only three of them. "Er- Three of you I mean. Where are Ana and Morrison?"
"They'll be here soon," Nathan echoed, pointing to the woman right of him. "At least, that's what she said."
"I see... Well," he expressed with some concern. "How are you guys so far? Made any progress in the mission, yet?"
Ziegler shook her tired head, followed by Nathan shrugging and letting out an apathetic grunt.
"We're fine, a bit exhausted, but fine," the Doctor muttered, expressing their jet-lag. "As for the mission… So far, we've met with Dr. Hassoun, who welcomed us to his city. Thankfully, he has been a gracious host."
"Dr. Hassoun? As in Dr. Ibrahim Hassoun? Wow, I wish I was there to meet someone like him! Anything else that could be relevant to the mission?"
"In all honesty, no. Coming to Oasis has been a rather peaceful and boring affair, so far. Besides the city's obvious scientific and technological prowess, there has been nothing else especially noteworthy. Except…"
Angela stopped herself, remembering one strange incident on the initial tour from Dr. Hassoun in the botanical gardens. The strange encounter they had.
"There was this woman we met," she tried to recall. "I can't recall her name…"
Nathan did, though, recalling how odd the woman was acting when they came across her. How she was meticulously arranging a planter of flowers because they looked "unkempt", and giving an odd comment about Angela's "perfect" appearance with such a straight face. The thing that stuck most with him was how she stared at Nathan as if she was analyzing his form and regarded him with a less than satisfactory disposition. As if she found something wrong. Well, to be fair, she did look at Nathan. But she still seemed... Obsessed with little details no one else pays any mind to. Something wasn't entirely right with her.
"Vaswani," Nathan answer for the woman on his left. "We met a woman named Satya Vaswani, a representative of the Vishkar Corporation."
They noticed Winston's expression change when he heard those words, as well as a change in his tone.
"Vishkar?" the Scientist questioned, in a noticeably more cautious tone. "What are they doing there?"
"You know 'em?" the Courier asked.
"Uh- Yes. Hold on a second."
The Gorilla turned away from the screen and began typing on his keyboard until a new screen flashed across his face. He adjusted his glasses as he cleared his throat.
"Vishkar is megacorporation based out of India," he began to explain. "They are the pioneers of 'hard-light technology', which is basically a way of bending light to create solid structures, like buildings. However, in recent times, they've come under a lot of heat. Mainly, for ruling over the city of Rio de Janeiro supposedly with an iron fist and subsequently being driven out by a revolution from its people."
'Why am I not that surprised?' the Courier questioned himself, not sure why he expected anything more from something called a "megacorporation". Corporations ceased existing in his world for around two-hundred years, yet they left a mark on the Earth the survivors were forced to inherit. An Earth that was still largely in shatters because of their bullshit.
"What about this Vaswani person?" the Courier asked, also growing suspicious of their presence in a city of science. "Anything noteworthy about her?"
"Uhh... Let's see," the Scientist typed more onto his computer. "She's one of Vishkar's more talented 'architects', as they call them, and I believe was present for Vishkar operations elsewhere. Rio included. Might be worth something to keep an eye on her... Anything else?"
The group on the couch exchanged looks with each other, noting that they all had nothing new further to say in regard to the mission. Also, noting they were fatigued, some more than others.
"I'll keep my head on a swivel when I'm out there," Amari declared with a serious tenor, determined to find the man she should've arrested weeks ago in Egypt. For her men.
"I'll see what I can find on my end," Ziegler stated, followed by a yawn. "Whether I'll find anything substantial is debatable, as I'm sure our man is not of the 'institutionary' sort."
"And I'll," Brin started, continuing the chain. "Follow Angela around, I guess. That's what a bodyguard supposed to do."
"I wish you guys good luck, then," Winston said, nodding to the group. "Over and out."
He blinked off and left the three alone in the hotel suite.
Big Mountain Research and Development Center, California Wasteland
2285
Veronica and Parmley had all the gear they had spread all over the Central Intelligence Unit's screen, taking inventory of what they had and what could prove useful in their rescue attempt. They knew they were dealing with robots and could be destroyed, but it was usually easier said than done in these types of situations. Situations that Veronica, especially during her time with the Courier, usually found herself in when spelunking through Old World ruins that were more like dungeons. The biggest difference being that the robots they were dealing with weren't usually this human-like. Where they came from and who made them were still a mystery that not even the floating brains in jars couldn't answer.
Looking over what they had; They had a few Pulse Grenades and Pulse Mines, which has yet to be tested and were on their effectiveness against these metal test subjects. They also had Plasma Grenades, cut above normal grenades and could provide the firepower they would need if the EMP's were useless. Finally, they had four packs of C4 with a detonator, though it wasn't very offensive in its capabilities and would have to be stored for later use. When they need a big-ass crater that is.
On the aspect of Energy Weapons, the Brotherhood was more charitable than usual, providing Parmley two weapons from their arsenal: an AER-9 Tri-Beam variant and a Glock 86 Plasma Defender. The Ranger was largely unfamiliar with energy weapons, but the Scribe did her best to instruct him.
"This thing's basically a shotgun," she stated, handing the AER to Parmley. "It simultaneously fires three beams with every squeeze of the trigger which spreads further apart the longer the distance. Burns through cells much faster, too."
"What about you?" he asked, as he shouldered the laser rifle, getting a feel for its bulky frame. "Still gonna punch your way through them?"
"I still like being up close and personal, but…"
Veronica grabbed the Plasma Defender, feeling the weight of the blocky pistol in her hands. Remembering all the lessons she got from Nathan on how to shoot things like this. Not nearly as good as him, but still.
"A little insurance doesn't hurt."
The Ranger smirked at the woman, before groaning made him turn around to see the Boone standing next to the Auto-Doc and gently rubbing his fingers against the skin with a sense of disbelief at how seemingly devoid it seemed of any tissue damage.
"If only we had you during Hoover Dam," the 1st Recon Sniper mentioned, rubbing his palm over his arm. "Thanks."
"Yer' welcome," the machine said, still with a rough inflection. "Now, usually I would advise people to not partake further in the activities that caused your ailments, but if you are anything like the other bullheaded son-of-a-bitch we both call 'friend', I have a feeling we will see each other very soon."
"You can count on it. We ready?"
The group all had their gear, primed, and loaded. Veronica pulled on her Power Fist, making it flush against the shape of her hand and shaking her fingers to make it snug. Parmley plugged a MicroFusion Cell into the Tri-Beam and listened to the machine hum inside like a mini-reactor before slinging it onto his back. Boone inserted a fresh magazine into his trusty bolt-action rifle and operated the bolt, a round chambering positively. Finally, Cooper stretched his back by curling forward as Rex scratched one of his ears with a mechanical leg. At least some of them were armed with things other than their teeth.
Without another word, the group exited The Sink, making their way out into the outside remains of Big Mountain proper.
They stepped outside, landing their boots onto the cracked pavement that surrounded the large dome they were inside just seconds before. Now, they had to venture to the south, to this "Antennae Array" that was supposedly where the other scientists were being kept. Before they made another step forward, Parmley voiced a thought that probably should've been voiced earlier.
"Do you guys… Trust 'em?"
Boone and Veronica turned to the man, giving him incredulous and unamused stares, and wondering why he didn't bother asking that earlier when they were still inside the dome. Even the dogs looked up at him, their mouths closed and without a tongue hanging out to affirm that they were not amused, either.
"What?"
Then, distracting them from the poorly-timed question, a mass of skittering startled the group and made them turn around to see a group of scorpions fast approaching. However, they weren't ordinary Radscorpions but were robotic versions of the arachnids painted largely in yellow with red pincers, back, and stinger, and a line of green along either side of the tail. They had four orange eyes covered by a glass visor.
The party had gotten into a defensive stance, ready to take on the robots, until they abruptly stopped a mere few meters from them. Confused, a voice then spoke from the lead scorpions through an unseen speaker.
"Hello!" the voice of Dr. Mobius called out. "It turns out I had forgotten I had these machines in my possession. Introducing the 'Robo-Scorpion', capable of fulfilling all the needs a scientist has for an arachnoid army! I hope they serve you well."
"Wow," their Scribe expressed, walking towards the robots to get a closer look. "These are impressive!"
"Why, thank you! I take pride in my arachnoid cremations. Now, let us go. Let us charge into battle! Follow me- urgh- Us!"
"Wait, what-?!"
Without warning, the nest of Robo-Scorpions dashed away, skittering seemingly too fast for their stubby robo-legs.
"Hey! Wait up!"
The group could only but comply, bolting after the machines. They ran through the remains of Big Mountain, noting how alien and desolate the area seemed, even when compared to the Mojave. Rocks, rubble, and metal were scattered through the zone, making it somewhat of a challenge to keep up with the Robo-Scorpions that seemed to crawl through the environment with ease. For a while, the group ran along this large pipe that was suspended in the air by metal supports and seemed to lead them to their intended destination. Soon enough, there was something rising in the distance, a large, white structure that rose to the sky. They were getting close.
After trekking for a minute or two, the two groups had stopped around a couple hundred meters or so away from the entrance, taking cover behind a rock. Boone and Parmley peeked over the rock, the Sniper with his sniper scope and the Ranger with a pair of binoculars. They scanned the Array's entrance and tried to find any threats that were in their way. It wasn't long until the Sniper spotted something white and metal prowling around the perimeter on two legs instead of eight.
"I see two of them outside of the entrance," Boone alerted his team, then raising his scope up to the upper levels. "I see another two walking along the catwalk leading up to that huge satellite dish. Looks like they haven't spotted us, yet."
However, the sounds of rounds whizzing through the air and their impact into the rocks near them said otherwise. The two instantly slinked further into cover, holding onto their heads to make sure they were still intact.
"Scratch that!" Boone exclaimed, hugging his rifle closer to his chest.
"Wait!" Parmley yelled, pulling his rifle out. "I didn't see any muzzle flashes coming from the tower. Those rounds came from the West!"
More gunfire rang out in the distance and the two gained more courage to look over the rock to see the robots were engaging a large group of humans. Something was off about these people, as their heads were covered in strange apparel and they were either dressed in dirty jumpsuits or hospital gowns. They were well-armed, as well. And some of the humans broke off from the main group and were attacking them.
"Who're they?!" Parmley questioned over the sound of gunfire.
"LOBOTOMITES," Klein told them through one of the Robo-scorpions. "THEY WERE ORIGINALLY MEANT TO SERVE US. CLEAN UP AFTER US AS SCIENCE CAN BE MESSY, AS SOME OF YOU MAY KNOW. UNFORTUNATELY, THEY APPEAR TO BE FERAL. AND HAVE AN IMPECCABLE KNOWLEDGE OF FIREARMS, SOMEHOW."
"Well, whoever they are, they're getting uncomfortably close… Okay, I think our best bet would to flank and charge-"
One of the Robo-Scorpions cut him off, but it was Mobius on the other line.
"Charge?" Mobius questioned. "An excellent strategy. Robo-Scorpions, assemble!"
"What? N-no!" Parmley stammered, trying to stop the metal arachnids blindly running in.
"Charge!"
The mechanical invertebrates boldly took off from the cover of their rock and charged into the ensuing battle, soon joining in the firefight. Snipping and stinging anything that stood in their way, robot or otherwise. Thankfully, the group of Lobotomites that were taking potshots at them was now trying to fend off the Robo-Scorpions, with varying success.
"Come on!" the Ranger ordered, taking off and running around the hill with the others following suit.
Dashing around the rocks for a minute eventually brought them in view of the Array's Eastern side. As they got closer, they could see the three-way fight unfold and turn the entrance of the Array into a small war zone. The Lobotomites weren't faring well as they took a hammering from both automated forces. One Lobomite having its head repeatedly "stung" by one of the Robo-Scorps while another was thrown against a pipe by one of the strange robots, strong enough to leave a splatter of blood on the pipe. However, as the human test subjects were picked off like bloatflies, the two robots began to engage each other.
While the Robo-Scorps were strong and heavily armored, the bipeds were quick, agile, and had fire support from a nearby cliff. One of the Robo-Scorps fell in battle as machine-gun fire was unloaded onto its exoskeleton and turned it into a fizzling, sparking scrap heap. Then, more bipeds began to flood out of the Array's entrance, tipping the odds heavily in their favor if it weren't for two shiny objects landing at their feet.
As the grenades exhumed a bubble of energy and showered the robots in an E.M.P., they froze and spasm uncontrollably before collapsing to the ground with circuits fried to hell. The trio and two dogs made their way around to the entrance, the Sharpshooter and Ranger providing covering fire at the cliff as Veronica got the door open. When the door swung inward, she was immediately greeted by a glowing red eye and cold hands reaching for her. She ducked and swiftly swiped her feet under its legs and knocked it to the ground, before delivering Power Fist upon its head and crushing.
"Not this time," she mocked, making a mental note to remember to thank a Ranger at Novac when they come back.
The others began to file in after her, Parmley being the last one in as he was still firing at the cliff before coming inside. Shutting the door behind them, they could still hear the fighting persisting between Mobius' creations and the bipeds, with the muffled sounds of gunfire and Mobius' voice.
"Sure as hell not what I had in mind," Parmley lamented with a slightly more haggard breath. "But we made it this far."
"Let's not celebrate just yet, pal," Veronica quipped, looking through the inner doorway and up to the ceiling. "We still got some stairs to climb."
They stopped and listen to the sound of metal feet whirring and clanging as they began to climb down the stairs, making their way to them. Parmley pulled out the Tri-Beam, pushing the switch forward and listening to the receiver hum with power. Veronica further adjusted the glove, making sure it was tight against her hand. The three exchanged looks with each other before finally charging out of the room and to the stairs.
Boone ran to the other side of the room, chucking a Pulse Grenade up before shouldering his rifle to provide covering fire. A second or two later, the grenade detonated and the fizzling body of one of the robots came crashing down to the bottom floor, nearly hitting the Sniper, and making him yelp out of surprise. The rest made their ways up the stairs, Parmley taking point with the Tri-Beam but the dogs overtaking them and charging upwards on all fours. One robot that intercepted them quickly got pelted by a series of laser bolts before its melted husk fell over the railing and hurtled to the ground.
"I'm still down here!" the Sniper complained, almost crushed by another robotic corpse.
"Sorry!" the Ranger apologized to his fellow serviceman.
Two robots were left now, both guarding the door that led to the final room. The machines opened fire, forcing the two humans to take cover by whatever thin sheet of metal was near them. However, the two machines were not able to account for the two dogs dashing at them on all fours. The two blurs target the robot on the left, Rex latching onto the hand that held the gun while Cooper weaved through its legs and grabbing onto one of the ankles. The other robot was about to open fire on the dogs until a red beam exploded its rectangular head, the rest of its body falling to the floor. Still struggling with the dogs, the last robot swiped Rex away with its free hand and then knocked Cooper away with the stock of the gun. Before it could aim at the dog, a metal fist drove into it and knocked it over the edge tumbling to the bottom and bouncing off a few railings down the way. Veronica peered over the edge, seeing the mangled corpse on the ground near Boone, who looked up at her with a slightly more annoyed look than usual.
"Uh- Sorry about that!" Veronica apologized with a sheepish smile.
After the fighting was done, they waited for him to climb up and stood in front of the last door leading to the room that was up top. The two men readied their weapons, the woman her fist, and slid the door open. It opened to reveal the missing Scientists, the other "brains" that their friends had told them to find. There were four of them, each one housing their brains in different tinted cases of goo. For some reason, however, they laid dormant and had their screens off and hugging close to their body and didn't respond to the group at all. Their bodies, other than a few scratches, seemed fine and didn't have any considerable damage. Poking one of them, they floated away slightly. So, it looks like they were going to haul them back to The Sink.
As they examined them, Veronica noticed a ladder in the middle of the runway going up, most likely leading to the satellite dish that sat upon this building. Curiosity and Scribe intellect getting the better of her, she went over to it and began to climb.
"I'll be right back," she called out to her friends, already scaling the rungs. "I'm going to see where this goes."
"Let me at least come with you," Boone offered, already following behind. "Need someone to watch your back."
Veronica had already reached the hatch and open it outward, revealing the blue sky to her.
"I know you've already got," she quipped, looking back down at him. "Just please don't look at my ass-"
"Watch out!" Boone suddenly alerted, pointing up.
Veronica turned her head back up and was greeted by a round, metallic head staring straight at her with a big red eye. Before she could react, the robot grabbed her hands and lifted her up with ease. It brought the woman up to eye level, her body high in the air. It leaned its head in closer, Veronica wide-eyed and breathing nervously as she tried to pull away. Pistol fire rang out, as Boone popped out from the hatch and was firing at it with his sidearm. The robot threw the woman to the side, landing onto the satellite dish. Boone kept firing at the approaching robot with little effect until it kicked the latch close and made him fall off the ladder and to the catwalk.
The ex-Scribe in the Followers coat groaned in pain as she tried to sit up, looking up and getting a good look at the machine. It was tall, much taller than the robots they were fighting earlier, and lankier. Its body was more refined, bearing much more in resemblance with humans than the other ones. It was holding something in its left hand, something metal. The Scribe looked with horror as she saw it had her Power Fist, her right hand now naked at the worst possible time. Noticing what she was looking at, the robot lifted her fist to its eye, examining it for a few moments before looking back at the woman.
"You won't be needing this," it said, in a deep, guttural, and synthetic voice before tossing her prized weapon over the satellite at quite a distance. "You will not impede this mission any further."
Sparks from up top made her look up, and see strange machines tied and connected to the satellites receivers, not matching the design of anything else in this facility. They must have installed those recently, but why?
She shook her head, trying to focus on survival as she got up and ran around the dish, trying to avoid the machine. It pulled out a gun, some sort of energy weapon, and fired blue thin beams at her. She bobbed and weaved, trying to take cover behind the thin supports holding the receiver. The machine slowly walked to her, its metal feet clanking against the satellite dish. Noticing the support next to her had a ladder imposed on it, she ran over to it and began to climb to the top as the robot shot at her.
"Trying to escape will only prolong the inevitable," the machine menacingly warned, looking up at her. "Come down and things should be simpler."
That hatch opening caught its attention and looked down to see Parmley poking out and trying to lift the Plasma Defender at it. It swiftly got kicked away, breaking the man's arm and knocking the plasma pistol from his hands. Then, something landed on the machine and made it fall to the ground while the object tumbled away from it. It was Veronica, her coat swishing and flapping as she rolled on the ground with a grunt. She tried to get up, the wind knocked out of her, but her eyes widening as she saw the Plasma Defender mere feet away from her. She looked back, the machine already up and approaching her with an extended arm. She scurried to the gun, blood rushing through her veins and the adrenaline pumping. The Scribe lunged at it, wrapping her naked right hand over the grip and immediately rolling on her back. The tall robot was right on top of her. She squeezed the trigger, flinching from the recoil, and watched as the machine's red eye was replaced with a smoldering hole stained with green goo.
It slumped to the dish, its shiny head landing in between Veronica's feet. The sights of the gun still trained on it, she stared at the corpse and felt her heart thumping in her chest with the blood rushing through her head. After a few moments of nothing but electrical humming and her own ragged breathing, the boxer finally let the gun fall to her side as she let out a huge sigh of relief.
