Cell Block, Watchpoint: Gibraltar
2076
"Oh, bother…" Junkrat said as he laid on the cold, concrete floor of his cell. Staring up at the equally cold and concrete ceiling with boredom. His legs casually crossed over each other, resting his mechanical hand over his stomach and his non-mechanical hand under his head. Laying there and doing nothing else, while some "visitors" stood at the other side of the hard glass wall keeping him locked in.
"You should be really ashamed of yourself, Fawkes!" lambasted Dr. Mei-Ling Zhou, one of the two standing outside his cell. Taking the time out of her day to reprimand the Junker, surprisingly.
Standing next to her was Security-Chief Fareeha, who offered to accompany the Climatologist on her "visit" to Jamison. However, she had her eyes more focused on Mei than the Junker because of how much her voice rose in just the past few minutes. Surprised to see her in such a state. Nonetheless, Amari kept her cool and watched.
"Your antics and reckless behavior easily could've gotten someone hurt or killed!" Mei went on, not simmering down. "It's no wonder Winston thought the best place to stick you was in that derelict garage space in the back of the base. Are you even listening?"
Mei pouted and crossed her arms, her frustration only mounting further with the Junker she was trying to shame. Jamison responded by taking in a deep breath and pivoting his body towards the glass, propping his head on one arm and splaying his legs like he was on a lounge chair.
"Yes?" he asked with an amused but relaxed smile, tapping his metal fingers across the floor.
"Honestly, I'm not surprised someone as boorish as you isn't taking this seriously," Mei admitted.
"'Boorish'? Me? Boorish?! Madame, if there is anything I know about myself, it is that I am a gentleman of unrivaled sophistication and taste. A gentleman trapped in the body of a slightly-deranged but brilliant Outback engineer who only got himself into a little snag in the creative process of one of my projects. Trust me, I'm as true-blue an Aussie as God will allow! Isn't that right, Roadie?"
He looked over to his cellmate, who was sitting on the only cot in the cell while reading a book that was too small to fit in his hands. Looking up from the book, he just looked at his partner with the blank stare of his gas mask until he unexcitingly gave one thumb up.
"See!" Jamison grinned as he pointed to him.
Fareeha and Mei looked at each other before Fareeha groaned and shook her head.
"Fawkes, personally, I couldn't care less for what you do in your own free time if the only person that gets hurt is yourself," she began. "But after witnessing the damage and disruption you were able to incur in such a short time, it is my duty as the Security-Chief to, from now on, supervise and restrict your… Projects… Accordingly. For the safety of everyone else on this base."
Junkrat rocketed up, startlingly fast, and sat crisscrossed on the floor as he looked up at them. No sign of humor upon his ashy, fiery face.
"What?" he asked, one eye twitching.
"You nearly killed someone," Fareeha stated the obvious.
"Yes, but is that really worth the price of stifling creativity? Of stifling innovation and progress? With all due respect, I think, I am a kindred spirit with an artistic ambition. One that requires – no – demands unbridled diligence to blossom and to benefit Overwatch. Otherwise, my work's shitless!"
"I highly doubt that…"
In the middle of their conversation, Nathan Brin entered the cell's view from their left and walked up behind Fareeha and Mei. He nodded to the two women.
"Hello, Nathan," Fareeha greeted. "What brings you here?"
"What else?" Nathan replied, looking at the cell.
"Friendly visit, I presume?"
"Just a visit," he narrowed his eyes towards the cell
For some reason, Junkrat's eyes lit up the second he saw the tall Waster.
"Mate, you're here!" Junkrat said, hopping onto his foot and peg to his full height, meeting him at eye level through the reinforced glass.
"Yes, I am," Nathan said.
"Phew, you had me seriously worried there for a second. See, he's completely fine! No scratches, dings, or bruises aside from the ones he already has. No thanks to the bloody, fat-arsed Wom, but still. Plus, he probably got to have a visit with that beaut of a doc, anyway, eh? Ehhhhh?" he nudged his elbow into the glass towards him.
"Fuck off."
"His sense of humor is intact, as well! See, everything's fine."
The three outside the cell exchanged glances with each other.
"Don't talk about Angela, that way," Mei was quick to scold.
"When she stops being a beaut I'll consider it," Junkrat replied, shrugging before he regarded Nathan with a loud smile. "So, mate, would you mind doing a favor for your top bloke and tell Chief Amari why I should continue my intellectual pursuits? Maybe convince her on a shorter sentence?"
"No," Nathan shook his head and squinted. "That is the complete opposite reason for why I'm here."
"Oh," the Junker hopeful expression dropped. "Then why are you here?"
"To tell you not to booby-trap your front door," Nathan admonished.
"Oh… Okay, yeah, I do agree there were better alternatives than the classic tripwire-wrapped-around-door-knob method. At least we know it works!"
Junkrat guffawed to himself and had a fun time, but he opened his eyes and saw an unamused expression on Nathan's face. Junkrat's laughter faltered for a few moments after, a few nervous chuckles until he stopped. Coughing into his mouth.
"But yeah, no. I'll stop rigging booby-traps to protect my personal quarters," he said, very unenthusiastically. "And to make sure no one gets accidentally blown up, again."
"Yes, and you're going to be under heavy supervision from now on, do you understand?" Security-Chief Fareeha said.
"Regrettably, so."
"Good. And just so you know, I already cleared this with everyone else. They think it's a good idea, too, so don't try to weasel them into agreeing with you. Even though that's highly unlikely, in the first place."
"Ah, a decision by committee. Almost as bad as a design by committee. It's good to see the leadership is impervious."
The Security-Chief kept frowning as she stepped away from the cell and looked at the Junker. She scoffed and walked away, going to the exit. Mei joined her, but not before giving Jamison another stern look. Nathan was about to go, as well, but stopped when he heard more noise coming from the cell.
"Pssst. Oi, Postie!" Jamison whispered to him.
"Don't call me that," Nathan turned around.
"Wanna do a little job for me? Won't take too long. Doesn't involve explosives… Directly."
"Yeah, right. As if you're forgetting the conversation we all had just a couple of moments, ago."
"I'll make it work your while. A pack of ice-cold stubbies!"
Nathan raised his gaze a little.
"For what?"
"Just some blueprints and writing utensils I need to keep myself occupied in this can. Won't take long to find them. Bring 'em back here, I'll give you this."
He then produces a key from one of his stitched-up pockets, glinting a little as Nathan looked at it.
"Key for the cooler which you can help yourself to after you bring me the blueprints. What do you say?"
Nathan looked at the key and at the Junker.
"I'll be back," he accepted, turning away.
"Thanks, mate."
As he walked away from their cell, he saw Fareeha and Mei waiting for him.
"What did he say to you?" the Security-Chief asked as he caught up to them.
"Nonsense," he said.
"Good, I thought it would be something to worry about. I already have enough on my plate for today."
"Is that so? Well, good luck with that."
"Thanks. What about you, Mei? I swore I heard you mention something earlier before you started reprimanding Fawkes."
"Me?" the Climatologist asked. "Well, I still have some experiments to conduct and research notes to compile. Same-old, same-old, really. Not a lot of excitement, sorry."
"Haven't cracked the climate code, yet?" Nathan asked, regarding her.
"Nope, not yet, unfortunately. Just trying to collect as much data as I can and making sense of it all if it even does make sense."
"I wish you the best of luck, then."
"What about you, Nathan? Have anything special in your schedule? I know you've been on leave for a while, now."
Nathan didn't say anything as he walked alongside them. His mind blanking on what to answer with.
"Just anything to keep myself useful around here," he responded. "Not terribly exciting, either, but I'll manage."
"I'll make sure to call you when I need help with something," Mei said, smiling up at him. "Especially for hard to reach places."
Nathan smirked, looking down at her in appreciation.
However, as they walked and got further away from the Junkers' cell, Nathan gradually slowed down, trailing behind them further until he stopped in front of another jail cell that was also occupied. Turning his head to see the Talon Prisoner, Jose, writing away at something on his desk in his prison cell. This cell was more decorated and "lived in" than the concrete boxes they usually were, looking more like a personal quarter. However, Jose stopped and slowly looked up from his desk to see the Courier standing there, tall and with his eyes glaring at him. The Prisoner felt his heart jump to his throat for a second before he darted his eyes back to his desk and kept scribbling. He remained under the hostile scrutiny of the visitor for a few moments after that, before the Courier growled and walked away.
Nathan wasted no time guzzling down half-a-stubby as he walked through the base with a whole milk crate of them under his arm. All of them rattling with every step, their outsides becoming wet with condensation and making the air around his arm feel chill. He had downed another quarter of the one he was working on before dropping it for air, clicking his tongue of that bitter aftertaste. He did question where Junkrat was able to get a set of Australian beer, but he was satisfied enough when the Junker actually handed over the key once he did his bidding. Not weaseling himself out of a deal like many would've expected.
Nathan might've had something to do in the afternoon, but the plan has changed now. Now, all he felt like doing was guzzle down as much Aussie beer as he can and maybe watch a sunset to set the mood. Maybe pay a little visit to María if the beer makes him so inclined.
He already finished the first bottle before he even reached his quarters, holding the mouth over his tongue for the last drops of beer to drip down. After it was rendered dry, he dropped the empty bottle into the crate and instantly grabbed another one, slamming the neck into the edge of the crate and popping the cap off. Due to how vigorously he shook it, foam flooded out of the mouth and over the bottle and his hand. He didn't care, he just didn't want to waste another drop as he tipped his head back and kept skulling the drink. Not even looking where he was going as he drank. Downing a quarter of this bottle, he let go and looked at the bottle for himself, admiring the cool glass. However, he frowned when he saw his hand – and by extension, the bottle – tremble. It wasn't obvious, and he only noticed it when he examined it very closely, almost up to his face.
'Nothing a couple drinks couldn't fix,' he thought, brushing it aside and putting his attention back to the beers. 'Maybe some smokes, too…'
He kept walking through the halls, not wanting to pay any mind towards anything else that may distract him. Just focused on trying to enjoy himself the ways he knew how. Nathan was alone for much of the time after he had retrieved his reward, but as he kept walking through another hallway, there was another noise echoing through the hall besides the clattering bottles. Dozens of noises, most of them loud but quick pops that reverberated against the walls. He knew they were gunshots, but that alone didn't warrant concern as he knew he was coming up to the base's firing range. What did make him a bit curious was the amount he heard. It sounded like every booth was being occupied by a shooter, not just a few of them at a time.
'They sound busy…'
He stopped in front of the doorway that would've led to the shooting range, deciding whether he should pay the little visit to the facility. He wouldn't know a lot of people that were inside, and he didn't have any of his guns on him beside his sidearm. However, he did enjoy firearms and recreational shooting. Probably one of the more productive things he was good at.
He took one more swig of his beer before going through the doorway to enter the firing range. However, he caught himself about to bring a case of alcohol to where there was going to be live weapons and ammunition. Not wanting to be a complete reprobate, he found a big box and hid his crate of drinks behind it. Replacing the cap onto his current beer and placing it back amongst its alcohol brethren, saving the little morsels for later.
After finding some spare ear and eye protection, Nathan walked into the firing range and found himself walking behind an entire line of small arms fire. Dozens of guns of varying calibers and types firing into holographic, man-sized targets. From the smallest pistol round to full-powered rifle cartridges, he felt the power of their respective blasts even as he stood behind them. Spent casings sometimes landing at his feet when he walked by with the smell of sulfur wafting up to his nose. Sights, sounds, and smells he was accustomed to. However, many of the weapons were firing energy, mainly lasers that made the booths light up in a red hue.
Instead of pops, they made cracks, the air feeling hotter than typical muzzle flashes. Some were fired single shot, even fewer were fired in short, automatic bursts. They particularly caught the Waster's eye because of how thin the beams seemed like they were only a few centimeters in diameter. Unlike the laser rifles back home that produced beams as wide as his fist. They also lacked a significant amount of smoke wafting from their muzzles. The metal not red hot after a few shots. However, these laser weapons weren't nearly as blocky or brick-like as the AER's or Wattz models. Probably weighed a lot less, too. He'd take these over Hana's peashooter any day, though.
Aside from the weapons, he watched the shooters hit their targets with ease, watching rounds and bolts hit their targets. Some of them shooting multiple targets at once in the wider booths. Some of the shooters would fire off their main small arm, but transition swiftly to their sidearm or another long gun, before engaging their target, again. A couple were solely practicing their draw, their hands inches from their holsters before quickly clearing leather. None of them weren't bad, but when fifty meters was the highest anyone could go in this range, there wasn't much to be genuinely impressed by. Maybe he'll see them in action, see how they do there.
As he kept walking, his eye caught something glinting at the benches behind the shooting line. Turning his head, the first thing he spotted was the gold ornament of McCree's hat. The Gunslinger rested against a bench with ammo boxes and weapon cases around him, observing the shooting range in front of him. He spotted Nathan, hard to miss among the busy and loud place.
"Well, ain't this a surprise," Jesse said, tipping his hat to him. "Haven't seen you around here for a while."
"I'm aware," Nathan said, nodding to him, then glancing at his hip. "Ain't shootin'?"
"Not today. Not like I need to practice, anyway. Nah, I'm just watching. Acting as the supervisor and the range officer, I guess."
"Right."
Nathan took a spot next to Jesse, propping himself against the bench along the wall and stood there as he watched all the shooters. Small arms fire going off in practically all directions, the sounds and blasts bouncing off the walls and surfaces. The smell of gunpowder and laser discharge powerful for them where they were. The two men being serenaded by the cacophony at the firing line.
"This place is packed," Nathan keenly observed.
"Yup," Jesse said.
"What's the occasion, then? There's gotta be something that got all these folks out here and shootin'."
"Guess you haven't heard, then?"
"Why else would I be asking?"
"Hmph. Well, if you don't know, a lot of us are getting ready and gearing up for a big operation we'll probably carry out in the next few days if things go where they should. Fareeha was the one who put me in charge of this little range day, whip all of 'em into combat-readiness shape. It's nice being in charge, but blowing off some steam isn't bad, either."
"You're not even shooting anything, though?"
"Not me. Them. Anyways, we need to keep our wits about ourselves as anything might happen and we'll need to be called to it. If half of the stuff I heard about the place we'll be sent to is true, we might need it."
"I see. Good luck, then."
McCree glanced at Brin, before scoffing and shaking his head.
"Oh, yeah, you're on leave. Lucky son of a bitch," he muttered. "How long?"
"I only just started, so… I don't know. As long as it takes? Before I get tired of it or we end up finding my way back home."
"While I can't speak for the second thing, I have a feeling it will take a long while before you 'get tired' of not having to be on a mission, especially with all the shit you've been through."
Nathan glanced at him for a second before looking straight ahead. He may have just started being on leave from deployments and missions, but he was afraid that there was going to be a day when he will get tired of it quicker than he wanted. It was that old, Wandering Wastelander spirit in him or some bullshit like that. Something his mother would tell him to explain the antsy feeling in his legs when he stood in a place for too long. Part of the reason he wandered away from home. As if he was the goddamn Vault Dweller.
"We'll see," was all Nathan wanted to admit.
"Yeah, and I heard what happened recently. You doing alright? Doc patch you up just fine?"
"I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me from the crazy, fuckin' Aussie. Should've left him in the Outback. Rutledge is the only one I can trust to be 'sensible'."
"I wouldn't go as far to say that, but I heard there's a nice bounty for bringing both of them in. Probably'll help with our funding."
"Yeah, thought the same too. But their worth to Overwatch must be more than that if they're still here. And no – I didn't need to visit Dr. Ziegler, this time around."
Jesse did a double-take.
"Really? I'll be damned," he smirked, almost in disbelief.
"Yeah, I don't always get fucked up, McCree," Nathan adamantly said.
"That's why I'm surprised. You were always in and out of her office every other mission. Hell, if I didn't know any better, I would say you were intentionally harming yourself just to get closer to the Doc."
"Yeah, I'd definitely shoot myself in the thigh just to be with a woman… I'm not that desperate."
"Well, for any random woman, no. But Angela? Partner, you could do a lot worse."
The taller man looked down at him, frowning, of course.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I can't think of any other better person to watch over you when you got a bullet in your gut or just passed out drunk. She'll always take care of you."
"I already know that, partner. Known that for a long while, now."
Nathan went back to looking at all the booths and the shooter's who occupied them. Watching them go off with their weapons and kill dozens of holographic targets with expertise. However, a few of them trained with training bots, making the things explode or crumble under the power of their weapons. As he thought about the amount of cleanup that would be required to constantly use such targets, his eye caught another glint in the sun. This time in a shade of blue, with more training bots to be seen. It was Vaswani, with a small crowd around her.
"What's she doing?" Nathan asked, gesturing to her.
"Her? Well, she's… I ain't too sure myself, actually," Jesse honestly answered.
Curious, Nathan got off the bench and walked over to all the commotion. When he got to the edge of the crowd, some of them parted for him and shuffled out of his way. Some of them seemed a little frightened by his presence when they stepped aside, but he just rolled his eyes. He already had a good view before they started moving, seeing Vaswani standing in front of her booth and three training bots floating in the target range. Even with a crowd behind her, she barely seemed to take notice as her hands twirled and orbited around each other. She then sent a spark of light flying in front of them until it hit the ground, the energy then coalescing into a solid object – a white sphere with a glowing blue "eye" with a nozzle, levitating upon three sets of prongs that hooked into the ground. Satya then produced two more, with ease, creating three turrets for each of the training bots she had in front of her. Then, synchronously, the three spheres directed constants beams of blue energy towards their respective training bots, until the machines crumbled and exploded. Drawing a reaction from the crowd behind her, Nathan included.
"Neat," McCree said, joining Nathan and the crowd.
Nathan stepped forward and went to her side to examine her handiwork, but Satya was startled a little when he entered her sight.
"Oh, it's you…" she says, calming down. Then, she clasped her hands in front of her waist and faced Nathan. "What can I help you with, Mr. Brin?"
"Uh, nothing," he said. "Just wanted to see what you're doing."
"If you must know, I am currently optimizing the power yield of my turrets. So, when they are rapidly deployed, they can output the highest amount of damage possible and subdue any targets they lock on to. Increasing their effectiveness by a coefficient of 32.33%. Repeating, of course."
"Okay. Didn't ask, but thanks."
"Oh… My sincerest apologies, then!" her serious expression wavering for a second. "I did not mean to overload you with information."
"You didn't. You're fine," Nathan reassured. "I just wanted to know what was warranting the small crowd you've gathered."
"Crowd?" she questioned before turned her head and saw the small group of people that had she amassed. Surprising herself.
"Yeah. Now, I wonder what other tricks you have up your sleeve," he said, looking at the three little turrets.
Satya tipped her head a little, brow furrowing. Seeming displeased with something he had said.
"'Tricks', Mr. Brin?" the Architect questioned. "I assure you, they are not simple parlor tricks or party favors. They can be instrumental in our operations in Overwatch."
"I saw, back in Numbani. I just never got a good look considering that dickhead throwing me around like a ragdoll, but I saw."
"Then I hope you see what Vishkar has to… Offer to the table. What I have to offer to the table; Not as an architect but also as a worthy agent alongside Overwatch."
That little tangent she went on made Nathan wrinkle his eyebrow, especially her sudden praise of the megacorporation. Her employers were a different story, but he didn't care about them, now.
"Alongside Overwatch, huh?" he questioned, leaning against the booth. "To what degree?"
"Are… Are you insinuating that I may act dissident to the goals and operations of Overwatch," Satya narrowed her eyes under that protective visor.
"What? No, not that. I want to know how flexible you'll be."
"I'm not sure I am following."
"Back in Numbani, and before that, I saw you create shields and solid structures with ease. Out of thin air, practically."
"Hard-light construction is an advanced technique. Some people would call it 'magic', but it is far from a fantasy nor illusion."
"I agree. And you're rather creative with it if these little eggs are an indication."
"…'Eggs?'"
She looked down at the turrets she placed down range, her eyes scrutinizing their white shells and spherical shapes. They weren't egg-shaped in the traditional sense, but she didn't hold it against Nathan. Opting to keep quiet about the label.
"But what I'm curious about is what you can do without your tricks," Nathan said, gesturing to her glove and turrets.
"A situation without my powers is practically inconceivable," Satya responded, her brow furrowing. "They are a part of my being as much as clothes."
"I'm sure they are, but in a hypothetical sense – without the ability to make turrets or walls of energy appear out of thin air – what then? Gonna fight those Talon fucks with sticks and rocks?"
"Of course, not! That would be unsightly and border on barbaric!"
"But do you know any other ways to fight? Without this 'hard-light'?"
Satya opened her mouth to speak, almost offended by the questions Nathan was posing. However, no words came out when she couldn't find any appropriate response. Trying to think of anything else besides the hard-light technology she grew to master and adapt for Vishkar's needs or her needs.
"What are you suggesting, then, Mr. Brin?" Vaswani asked, waiting for his answer.
Nathan thought about that for a second, before he noticed the cacophony of smalls arms fire that was still occurring behind them.
"You know how to use a gun?" sincerely asked.
"You can't be serious," Satya frowned, almost seeming insulted.
"I am."
"Guns are a crude amalgamation of metal and chemical reactions. They are unwieldy and unrefined. Using them would only hinder progress and innovation. Brute-force is their only application."
"But they achieve that application particularly well. And I wouldn't consider most of them 'unwieldy and unrefined' – the ones I've used. They are supposed to be weapons, after all, and a weapon that doesn't work is useless. They're time proven."
She was unconvinced, almost scoffing at the notion of using a firearm alongside her hard-light prowess. Nathan, on the other hand, wasn't deterred by her disinterest. That only encouraged him further.
"They're also one of the most common forms of offense out there. You're more a defensive person, from what I've seen," Nathan observed. "There's no shame in learning a new skill."
"Skill? Did you mother teach you such things? Teach you how to use firearms?"
"She did."
Satya blinked, not expecting to learn that about him.
"She taught me almost everything I know. Made it clear that I wasn't… What did she say… 'leaving 'till you can shoot as easily as you can shit'."
"Hah! She sounds like a woman I'd like to meet," McCree commented.
"Well, she ain't letting you within a hundred yards of her," Brin quipped.
The two men chuckled with each other, but Satya darted her eyes between them, confused.
"But yeah. She thought it was a valuable skill. What about you? Willing to give it a try?" he asks.
"What do you plan on teaching me?" she questioned.
"Learn how to shoot. What else?"
"And shoot with what?"
After she asked that, the large grip of a revolver sticking out of its leather holster was brought in between them. The spur jingling as its owner held it out to them.
"How 'bout trying this one for size?" Jesse offered, but obviously being silly.
"I'm not trying to break her wrist, McCree," Nathan said, pushing the leather holster back.
"You got something else in mind? How about the piece on your hip?"
".45 ACP isn't a good starter round, either."
".22 then?"
"I don't have a .22-"
Nathan stopped himself as he realized he technically did. Only off by a few millimeters, but it was arguably the second-best starter round to begin with. In a rifle platform, too, adding to the ease and controllability.
"Actually, I do… Wait here, I'll be back."
Minutes later, Nathan was back in his personal quarters, sifting through the drawers and grabbing All-American from it. Holding it by the barrel shroud, he used his other hand to sift more through the drawer and retrieved several magazines for it – standard loads. Getting everything he needs, he stood up and closed the drawer with his leg as he slung All-American over his shoulder. Wasting no time, he quickly made his way out of his room and heard the door close on itself. Walking through the halls to get back to the shooting range.
'Really doing this, huh?' Nathan questioned himself. 'Gonna teach another one how to shoot? Better be worth it…'
However, when he walked past the doors, his footsteps must have been heavy as one of the doors ahead slid open slightly. A pair of ornate headphones popping out into the hallway as Hana looked around and spotted Nathan walking in her general direction. Her eyes widened, and Nathan noticed.
"Hey, dude! Do you got a sec?" she called out, rather jubilantly.
"Uhhh…" Nathan physically stopped. "Later, kid. I'm doing something right now."
"Huh? Is it urgent?
"I told them I'd be back. Can't keep 'em waiting."
"Oh… Okay. Uh, see ya' later, then."
Nathan nodded and went on his way, reverting to the quick and purposeful step in his feet. Hana watched him go, disappointed. Then, also peering through the doorway, Lúcio stuck his head out and looked where she was. Seeing Nathan go off into the distance, as well.
"I guess he's busy," he said.
"Maybe later we can try. Can't let all those hours of work be for nothing," she said, remorsefully. "I just hope we have enough time left before the upcoming OP…"
"So… You come here often?" Jesse asked Satya with a sly smile, casually leaning against the booth and propping his brim up.
"No, I don't," Satya seriously answered, her arms crossed and narrowing her eyes. Suspicious to how close he's gotten.
Unfortunately for the Cowboy, Nathan was back in the range with his carbine slung over his shoulder. Not taking long to get where they were and presenting what he brought.
"Here it is," Nathan held out All-American in front of himself, showing Vaswani the carbine.
As expected, she looked at it in near disgust, her eyes switching back and forth between the rifle and its owner. Her eyes dissecting everything from the stock to the camo-paint. The old rifle catching the ire of the Architect.
"It's… Filthy!" Satya exclaimed.
"It's been through a lot," Nathan responded. "It's got scars like me."
"No offense, Mr. Brin, but I don't see how using this rifle will be beneficial for me. It is such… An antiquated and crude design, even for firearms. The only use I could see for it is just adding improvements to it, and even then, I am not certain. I appreciate what you're trying to do but… I'm sorry Mr. Brin, but I think I am fine, for now."
Nathan continued holding out his rifle to her, but he lowered his hand slightly from what she said. However, he just grabbed his rifle and placed it on the shooting bench of her booth. The magazines he brought along placed aside it. Then, he faced Satya, again.
"Alright," he said, leaning against the booth's divider before gesturing to the three, new training bots in front of them. "Destroy those targets, then."
"What?" she asked.
"Take your energy weapon and destroy those three targets."
"You mean my Photon Projector?"
"Are you going to shoot them or not?"
She was taken aback for a second by his sudden outburst but quickly regained composure as she nodded to him. Looking to the three, she brought her left hand out, making a blue light project from the palm. With her right hand, she hovered it over her palm and spun it, her fingers making a wave-like motion. Only taking a second, making her signature weapon out of nothing. Holding the now solid object in her hand, knowing it was made to her liking, she jutted her it forward and pointed at the targets.
Clasping her finger around the trigger, the three prongs spun around a thin blue beam that emanated from the center of the device. It locked onto the leftmost bot, making it surge with energy and the beam becoming larger the longer it latched onto the target. Eventually, the training bot exploded but the beam quickly latched onto the second bot. It took less time to be destroyed by the more powerful and growing beam, exploding and letting the last bot be targeted. That one blew up just a moment later, Satya letting her finger off the trigger. Leaving three wrecked targets, thoroughly destroyed, in front of her. Then, a hologram flashed in front of her, displaying a set of numbers.
"00:08.67"
"That's… Long," Nathan said, looking at the time. "Too long. Especially for three targets."
He got up from the divider and held out his hand to Satya, gesturing to the Photon Projector. She narrowed his eyes at him, glancing at her weapon, but ultimately dropped it into his hands. When she did, Nathan looked at the weapon and turned to the bench, where he just set it down. He began to manipulate the range controls and had the debris of training bots cleared out before summoning another trio of the targets to line up before them. Then, he cleared the timer.
"Mr. Brin, what are you doing?" Satya asked.
Without answering, grabbed his carbine and fired off three shots in rapid succession, Satya missing most of it as she jumped from the sudden blast from the rifle. Looking ahead, she saw all the training bots were still intact except for a lone 5.56mm sized bullet hole in each of their eyes. All of them lying on the floor, neutralized. Then, the holographic timer showed up, again, but recorded Nathan's time.
"00:00.98"
"Holy shit, did you see that?!" a spectating Overwatch agent exclaimed.
"Old designs still work," Nathan said, emptying and safeing the weapon before turning around. "Although, I won't lie that there are scenarios where your Projector excels where my Carbine can't, but that's also true vice-versa. You already mastered hard-light, so, why not try something else for a change?"
While his words certainly had some weight and general truth to them, it was backing his statement up with an impressive demonstration that truly caught the Vishkar Architect's attention. Sentiments she had about dismissing the use of firearms or other such "crude" devices were… Dampened, to say the least. She knew Nathan Brin was a skilled individual, but she thought his skillset would largely be inconsequential to her own. Maybe there was an acceptable trade to be made here.
"Okay, I accept," she said.
"Good," he said, ejecting the magazine and the chambered round, flipping it to safe. "Let's go over the basics, starting with safety…"
Goodsprings, Nevada, Mojave Desert
2076
The hydraulic jack of her Saturnite Power Fist rocketed forward when her hand clenched, making it hiss. The jack then retracted back to its starting position, firmly seating as Veronica looked over her gauntlet for the 3rd time this night. The Fist had lost much of its bright splendor as the heat began to dissipate from the metal, but not by much. Still, she was able to work on it and fix the mechanism for the hydraulic jack. Getting it back into working order just an hour earlier. However, rather than taking pride in her work, she took in a deep breath and dropped her head. Knowing she was only getting ready to be thrown into what may possibly be her second big fight in this "strange" land, so soon. Stewing in her thoughts.
'Just a little bit longer… Then… Hopefully, something.'
She was interrupted from her thinking when there was a knock at the bedroom door, making her sit up.
"Veronica, you ready?" she heard Boone on the other side.
"Yeah! Just give me a sec, alright?" Veronica responded. "I still need to be decent!"
"We ain't attending a boll. Don't take too long. We'll wait for you outside."
She heard Boone walk away from the door and down the hallway, where she could hear everyone else in the house. Standing up, she looked at a mirror and saw herself in the skintight jumpsuit for the PA, with a pneumatic gauntlet. Veronica snorted as she turned slightly and got a better look at herself, specifically her backside.
However, she still felt that something wasn't there, or that she was missing something for their mission. Only with nothing but a skintight suit and a pneumatic gauntlet.
She looked to her right towards a cabinet, where a pack of their belongings laid at the foot of it. Stepping over and bending down, she began searching through the pack to find what else she may need to be prepared. Sorting through a lot of stuff, silently impressed with how much they could fit into such tight spaces, but remembered how well Nathan taught her that, too. Tricks of the trader, no doubt.
As she moved around and picked through the pack, she accidentally bumped her elbow into the handle for the cabinet. Wincing from the sudden jolt in her arm, she began to rub her elbow to soothe the sensation but cast her gaze up and saw something glint inside the closet. She stood up, and after taking a quick glance at the door, slowly slid the door open to look inside. Wide open, there were clean and neat clothes hanging off racks but what grabbed her attention was the beige uniform with a shiny seven-pointed Sheriff's badge still pinned on the left breast. When she gently grabbed the shoulder to move it a little, some dust shook off. After looking at the badge, she turned her eyes to the nametag to see "Walker" stitched onto it.
Even if that was his last name, Veronica knew this uniform wasn't Senior's.
The pieces were they and she had no trouble putting them together, but the ex-Scribe was still saddened for him, knowing how it felt to lose family in more ways than one.
She closed the cabinet door to be respectful, before going back to the pack and getting ready. Maybe she can get Senior some payback to show thanks.
Rex sat on the living room couch in the middle cushion with most of the others around him, as well. Cooper occupied the cushion one side next to him, asleep, and Parmley was on the adjacent couch with Joseph. Boone was outside, tending to something. With everyone else either being busy with matters at hand or resting, Rex was the only one paying any mind to what was on the big, curved, flat-screen living room TV. The bright, clear, and colorful images that were playing on the large screen caught the old dog's curiosity, but what those images were kept his attention.
The TV showed shaky videos and images of a landscape covered in snow, people in large, white winter coats running with military gear and weapons, rifles that looked eerily like old Soviet small arms. Many of them bearing a red, five-pointed star. However, also amongst the snow, were the dark hulls of large machines with glowing red eyes. Some small and with four spider-like legs, others seeming tall and imposing with only two legs as large as buses. All of them armed with an assortment of ordinance protruding from their hulls. The TV showing many shots of these humans and machines engaging in full-on war with each other. Shots of human soldiers firing their weapons at advancing war machines, and shots of human soldiers trying to rush through the snow while under fire from these machines. Explosions and constant gunfire going off as the reel tapes went on, with full sound coming from the TV, as well.
An unseen woman was narrating over the footage, with the news headline "Russian Offensive Against Omnics Continues".
"Months after the initial offensive began against the omnic threat, the Russian Armed Forces continue their assault against the hostile omnic forces present in and around Siberia," the news narrator said with more b-roll of winter combat being played. "However, even after repeated attempts to advance into the Siberian wilds to shut down the Siberian Omnium, not much progress has been made crossing into omnic held territory. Both Russian ground and air forces have encountered heavy omnic resistance, which is reported to have been 'more substantial' than initially anticipated by Russian military leaders."
Then, there was a clip of Russian soldiers running along a tree-line, multiple machines guns and rifleman posted along the trunks. The camera focused on something in the distance, several spider-like machines with automated cannons on their bikes running towards their tree-line. The soldiers began yelling in their language and fired upon the approaching machines. The machines firing back with devastating effect. Rex growled at the screen.
"Other factors hindering the Russian advance into Siberia include the presence of many towns and settlements within the area. Many of them evacuated in response to the increasing fighting across the front. Unfortunately, some have been devastated and taken over by the omnics, displacing or killing those caught in the crossfire."
Shots of destroyed and crumbling buildings and homes were now on the TV. Sweeping shots of entire towns reduced to rubble among the snow. Followed up by scenes of people walking or shambling away from the destruction, some of them in tears. Rex whimpered after hearing them cry.
"Yet, despite such setbacks months prior, Russian leaders are confident that Russian Forces will be able to advance into omnic territory once the new line of Volskaya mechs reaches the front. Until then, the fighting continues."
The scene crossfaded to a longshot of large, bipedal humanoid machines that towered over everything in their surroundings, patrolling the streets of a Russian metropolitan area. Rex huffed, genuinely impressed by the big robots.
Finally, after minutes of waiting, Veronica walked out of the bedroom in her jumpsuit and into the living room.
"Sorry to keep all of you waiting. A girl has to look good on a mission. You guys ready?"
"Bark!" Rex exclaimed, hopping off the couch and running up to Veronica. Cooper, as well.
"Parmley, are you good?"
"Yeah, just hold on a sec!" the Ranger held up a finger, going back to what Joseph was showing him on his holopad. A detailed map overlooking the area that was the Deadlock gang's hideout they were going to hit. One of the most detailed and colorful maps he has ever seen. "So, this is where they all should be, huh?"
"Yup," Joseph happily exclaimed. "You should be there in no time but be careful. They probably are gonna watch the main entrance and see you guys the second you walk up."
"What about these mountains? Can we use those?" he pointed to some landmarks to the West of the camp.
"I guess. They probably won't see it coming. I dunno, I'm new to this kind of stuff."
"Well, you've been a ton of help. Never expected you to have access to such intel. Nice work, trooper."
"Thanks!" Joseph said with a big grin. "I only just Googled this, but I can't wait for you guys bring the law back into town!"
Veronica saw that and smiled at the little exchange, though, still a little saddened by what she found in the bedroom. The connections starting to make sense the more she saw.
Finally, Senior walked out into the living room with Jennette behind him. He put on a leather jacket while Jennette handed him his shotgun. He pulled on the pump and checked the breach as he chambered a round, before slinging it around his shoulder. Addressing the others after he did so.
"Let's get this done with."
"Be safe out there, okay?" Jennette said to all of them.
Unexpectedly, Senior drove all of them close to their intended location, near the prison where the gang was held up. After he stopped, everyone filed out of the truck and began to gather the rest of the equipment they brought along for this mission from the bed and the trailer hitched to the truck. Only with light from the car did Senior watch as Veronica and Parmley got into their respective suits of power armor, watching with silent intrigue when the large machines closed around their operators. Now towering above most people, shrouded in a body of armor, yet moving as naturally as breathing.
The helmet for the one Veronica was wearing reminded him of an owl.
Then, they gathered their weapons, many of them also things of which he has never seen before. Some of them he presumed to be energy weapons but glowing and radiating an energy that seemed alien. They weren't as sleek or curved as the energy weapon models he's familiar with, but they were blocky and hefty, with all sorts of bells and whistles on them. None of which he could make head or tails of. However, he imagined they could do a lot of damage, especially the big green one that looked like it had a spear for a barrel. Parmley, in his Power Armor with sparking coils, grabbed the P94 and held it out for Veronica to take. She reached to it but stopped halfway.
"No, thanks. Not this time," she declined.
"Seriously?" Parmley asked.
She raised her right hand and clenched it into a fist, making the pneumatic jack launch forward. "Yeah… Just this once."
"Suit yourself," Parmley said, putting the Plasma Caster back down onto the bed. He then reached in and grabbed his .308 Service Rifle, jamming a full magazine into it and racking the charging handle. "I think I'll stick to my roots, as well."
The only other people that needed to be accounted for were Boone and the dogs. Boone was ready the second he stepped out of the car, only needing his rifle, his sidearm, and his beret. The dogs were self-explanatory.
"So, what's the plan?" the 1st Recon Sniper asked, his rifle loaded for bear.
"Honestly… I didn't think that far ahead," Veronica admitted. "But if they're convicts who will shoot at us the second we show up, then I guess we all know what to do by that point."
"Same old, same old."
"Yeah… I'm tempted to just walk up and see if they'll talk, but you're definitely gonna be covering my ass if we end up doing that."
"Makes no difference to me, either way."
"Heh, yeah. I guess that means we're all ready, then."
She looked at all of them to affirm that they were, but her eyes eventually landed on Senior. The old man standing there in his leather jacket and shotgun over his shoulder. Veronica took off her helmet and stepped over to him, stopping a few feet from him. Looking down at him in the light of the car.
"Hey, thanks for bringing us out here," she began. "You didn't really need to since this place was just a couple of miles away from Goodsprings but we appreciate it, nonetheless. You gonna help us fight?"
She gestured to his old shotgun, making him look over his shoulder.
"To be perfectly honest, I'm tempted," Senior said. "But I only came here to make sure things would be done the right way. I don't want you guys fucking this up."
"I'll keep that in mind," Veronica replied. "And I certainly don't blame the vendetta you have against them. Especially after learning about…"
She caught herself almost bringing up what could've been a sore subject for the old man, but she saw Senior staring at her with a newfound scowl.
"Yeah…" he only said, rolling his shoulder to keep the shotgun's sling over it. "You sure you don't need another gun."
"Thanks, but we'll take it from here," she responded, putting her helmet on. "I think you should get back to town, now. It'll be safer there."
"I'm staying here until you guys come back, dead or alive. Besides," he pointed to the other equipment on his truck. "I ain't hauling all this shit back inside by myself."
"Noted."
With her exchange done, she turned around to face Boone, Parmley, and the dogs.
"Let's do this," she said as she began walking in the direction of the jail.
"Parmley showed me mountains west of the prison where I can cover you," Boone said, cranking his rifle's bolt. "I'll take Cooper with me for backup."
"Go ahead, man. The rest of us will take the brunt of it, I guess. Fun."
The Sniper nodded before whistling to Cooper. The two then broke off from the group, dashing off into the darkness until they could no longer see them. Veronica and Parmley did one final weapons check as they continued walking towards the camp. The ex-Scribe having been there before but in another world. Almost felt like another life, too.
"No turning back now," Parmley said, hands firmly around his rifle.
"You could've said that a couple weeks ago," Veronica responded.
"After we're done here, we get back on track with some help, right? Not forgetting why we're really here."
"That's the plan. Let's hope it goes through."
"Yeah… I'm still trying to wrap my head around this. Being back in-"
"Can this wait? I'd rather not discuss that before I start punching people's faces off."
"…Sure."
"Thanks."
The next few minutes were spent walking in silence through the dark desert. There was a slight breeze that they could barely hear through their helmets as their feet thumped against the ground. They were taking things slow, as they were still crossing into unknown, and potentially hostile, territory. The Ranger looking around their surroundings and trying to be mindful of the darkness. Veronica did the same, her fingers snug within the glove of her Saturnite Fist. Rex took point for the group without having to be told, slowly walking in front of them and sniffing the ground occasionally.
Eventually, they could see something shining in the distance. A set of lights posted along something that looked like a watchtower. The silhouette of a fenced perimeter slowly becoming visible. As far as they could see, anyway.
"Look!" Veronica pointed to the silhouette. "There it is! Looks a bit different."
"How can you tell?" Parmley squinted, trying to what see what she saw.
"Because of the way it is. Get ready. There might be a fight soon."
"More than prepared."
As they walked a few more steps along the trail and got closer to the gang hideout, Rex was still walking in front of him until he stopped and stared straight ahead. He only stood there for a few moments, turning his head as he stared. But he began growling as he pointed to something with his snout, both Veronica and Parmley stopping behind him. They both looked ahead, too, not able to see anything out of the ordinary in the dark. And that was a problem.
"Rex…" Veronica quietly called out to him. "Get behind me, now-"
The dog didn't heed her before he barked, and the pulsating ring of energy flew from his mouth. They watched it fly through the darkness until it struck the silhouette of a man 20-30 meters in front of them, sending him tumbling to the sand screaming. Then, they were almost all blinded as an armada of vehicles turned their headlights and surrounded them. Gunfire then erupting and lighting up the desert, as well.
Parmley began firing upon the lights as Veronica dove to Rex and scooped him up in his arms. Immediately being pelted by dozens of small arms fires from nearly all directions, the two suits of Power Armor scrambled and ran to cover. However, in their haste, they accidentally split up and went in opposite directions – Parmley heading to the right while Veronica rushed to the left with Rex. Trails of gunfire followed them as they each dove behind sizable rocks, separated by an open plain of bullets. Veronica hunkered behind cover as she dropped Rex, who got to his feet and was about to charge into the fray before she grabbed him with her free hand.
"Fuck!" she heard Parmley scream into her helmet's radio.
"You alright, buddy?" she asked over the gunfire.
"They just knocked out my Lasers, Flamethrower. Fucking everything! I only got my rifle and the Tri-Beam!"
"So, you still have guns! Good! Because I'm pretty sure negotiations are out of the question now… Goddammit, why don't convicts ever wanna talk?!"
After she said that, there was some movement on the other side of the rock and a man in a cowboy hat carrying a rifle ran over to her cover. He tried to get the rifle up to start shooting but Veronica's power armored fist met him first, the entire front portion of his face became a crater of meat and bone, dropping and falling lifelessly to the dirt.
"The one on the left is the bitch with the fist! Get her!" one of the Deadlock gangers said.
Suddenly, all the remorse she felt dissipated like kicked-up sand.
"Ooooh, now it's personal…"
Their gunfire lightened as the ambushing lights began to move and two motorcycles flew past them and their cover. Now behind them, the bikers spun around and started firing at the now exposed Wasters from where they were. Parmley retaliated with his Service Rifle, but Veronica was powerless as the other bike fired at her and the rounds kept pinging off her armor. When the bike quickly approached and drove-by, she took a shot in the dark and tried to hit them but missed. Gaining some distance away from her, the biker once again twirled around and was getting ready to do another drive-by, but the side of his head exploded with the boom of an unseen sniper being heard the second after. Two other gangers were taken out by this sniper before they started reacting to the threat.
"Where the hell is that coming from?!"
As they started scrambling for cover and diverted their attention elsewhere, Veronica peeked around the corner, spotting an opportunity. She looked to the other side to see Parmley looking at her, ready to get out of cover.
"Let's go make trouble," she smirked.
She and Rex quickly rushed out of cover and towards the line of gangers while Parmley popped up and gave covering fire. Rex was naturally faster and gained a lead on Veronica, but she was able to keep up with the APA, barreling towards the gangers and making the ground quake with every step. She spotted a lone convict with his back to him, but as he spun around it was too late as she grabbed him with her power arm before slamming a Saturnite block into his squishy face. As that happened, the other gangers turned their attention to her and fired, but their rounds only pinged against her armor. With the two of them set loose upon the Deadlock gang, they started wreaking havoc with every punch and bite. Sending the convicts into a panicked frenzy as they started being overwhelmed, their ambush being turned on its head. A few of them already scrambling to get away from them.
'Just quick, one-two punches,' she told herself, focusing on her opponents. Already knocking several into the sand. 'No need to draw things out. Make it quick but make it hurt.'
Since Veronica and Rex were among the fray, sending men flying or running, Parmley couldn't get a clear line of sight of the convicts. Grumbling, he switched his Service Rifle out for the Tri-Beam and left cover to join them in routing the outlaw gang. However, he saw the headlights of an approaching motorcycle and winced when he felt something smack him across the helmet when it flew by. It didn't hurt, but it disoriented him from the sudden attack. When he gained his bearings, he looked down and saw something had landed at his feet. He barely had time to react as the grenade went off and sent him flying back a foot onto his back. The explosion made Veronica stop and looked back to see the set of T-51b on the ground with explosive residue all over the front.
"Parmley?!"
"… I'm fine, ugh…" he said as he tried to get up despite feeling like gelatin.
But the headlight of the motorcycle came into view again and Parmley turned to see him quickly approaching him, again. Snarling, he shoulders his weapon and started firing the Tri-Beam at the motorcycle, making the area around him light up in red. Eventually, as the biker got close, he landed a lucky shot and made the biker disintegrate into a pile of ash, the bike losing control and crashing into the line of vehicles set up in the ambush.
'Well, someone has a taste for theatrics,' Veronica thought.
Then, she heard a large weapon get charged and looked up to see one of the vehicles with an improvised machine gun turret in the back. A big and long barrel pointed directly at her from just a couple of feet. She felt the big thing boom when it started firing. Bringing up her arms and turning away to protect herself, feeling the concussive blasts even through her armor. Making her lose balance and fall on one knee from the firepower. Thankfully, the machine gunner's onslaught ended when a laser bolt struck him.
Unfortunately for the machine gunner, that wasn't the end of it, as he didn't disintegrate within the blink of an eye and instead had a slow, gradual, and painful death. The ganger could feel his atoms being pulled apart and could only scream as his body started floating up into the air as he burned. Even his scream became distorted and unnatural, nearby gangers watching in horror as their friend levitated as he glowed red. Finally, the screaming stopped when he exploded into a cloud of burning ash that went everywhere, covering everything in the closest vicinity. Everyone that witnessed it in shock, even Veronica, who looked at Parmley in surprised.
"What setting did you have that on?!"
Meanwhile, the gangers – having just witnessed that – started running away. Running back to their hideout, driving out into the desert – it didn't matter. Their plan had gone completely sideways with the strangers, and they weren't going to risk it. Unfortunately, the others still gave chase since they had a job to do.
Breaking beyond the defensive line, Veronica, Parmley, and Rex ran towards the prisoner and chased them down. Parmley and Boone shot down anyone they could get their sights on, but Veronica and Rex ran ahead of them to get a head start on the gangers. The ex-Scribe even catching up to a few driving them into the ground. Some of them did turn around to fire haphazardly at the attackers, but it was futile.
"Who the fuck are these people?!"
'We're the Courier's friends, bitch!' Veronica immediately thought but kept quiet to at least keep some sophistication while they work.
Chasing them down, they were getting closer to the prison – their main base of operations. All the lights were on and she could see people inside the fenced perimeter running around. The watchtower closest to her had the spotlights on her and two men up top getting ready to shoot. Two seconds and two gunshots later, she saw the same two men fall off the watchtower and to the ground.
"Thanks, Boone," she said over the radio.
"No problem."
Running to the perimeter of the correctional facility, she tried to remember where the entrance was supposed to be as it had been so many years since she helped cleared it out. Making a guess, she continued going south until she came across a little passageway that led to a building within the fenced perimeter. She ran towards it and watched Deadlock convicts run inside through a door and slamming it shut behind them. Veronica stood there, looking at the door as Parmley and Rex ran up to her.
"Now what?" Parmley asked.
"We knock," Veronica said.
Taking a step back to ready herself, Veronica rocketed forward and ran towards the door, making the ground shake. Putting her left shoulder into it, she crashed through the old prison door and sent it flying. When she ran in, there were several surprised and terrified faces as soon as she came in. Some of them were too scared to do anything when she lunged towards them and pummeled them into smithereens. Rex and Parmley were there only a second later, joining the fight. It didn't take them long for them to clear the room, the poor Deadlock gangers not standing a chance. After they were done with this room, Veronica led them towards a hallway that ended with a door. If memory served her right, that should lead them to the courtyard and the rest of the facility. To where more of the fighting might be.
Giving Parmley and Rex another assuring nod, she wasted no time as she charged forward and barreled through this door like the first one. Immediately encountering several Deadlock gangers, but fewer than she expected. They outnumbered them but that made little difference to the humans in Power Armor and the cyberdog. However, even though they were all armed and held their weapons at the intruders, none of them had squeezed the trigger yet. This impromptu standoff creating an awkward silence that lasted longer than it should've as Veronica and the others just stood there and stared at all the gangers pointing weapons at them. Some of them visibly scared. Suddenly, there were the sounds and lights of vehicles and Veronica looked ahead to see a small caravan of trucks and motorcycles drive away from the correctional facility and into the desert. Some of the Deadlock members noticing and becoming shocked from what they were seeing.
"Are those your friends?" Veronica asked coyly. "That's rough."
One of the gangers tried to raise his sights on her head but only had his head explode in a pink mist that made the others flinch. Boone certainly had the best timing out of all of them.
"Oh, screw this!" one of the Deadlock members exclaimed as he tossed his rifle onto the ground. "I surrender! I am fucking surrendering! Please! Don't kill me!"
The other Deadlock members nervously looked at each other, before they decided to smarten up and throw their weapons on the ground as well. All their hands reaching for the sky, as well. Veronica and Parmley just looked at each other.
"Well, that was easy… Easier than the first time," she said, impressed with herself. "What do you think?"
"Y'all have any bounties on you?" the Ranger asked, keeping his weapon trained on them.
After more nervous glances, several of them nodded.
"I'm worth more alive!" one of them exclaimed.
"Guess that settles it," the Ranger said. "We made ourselves some money, too. Not a bad start, at all."
Veronica smiled under her helmet before looking around and trying to spot any other convicts that need punching. Eventually, she spotted the largest building on this complex, which is what she assumed to be the administration building. Wasn't as big as she expected, but she saw that some of the lights were still inside.
"Stay here and watch over them, I think we have a few stragglers," she said, leaving Parmley and Rex on prisoner duty.
Reaching the front door of the administration building, she gently grabbed the door handle with her large metal hand and twisted it. The door creaked as she slowly pushed it inwards and peeked her yellow eyes inside. It was a rundown office space, but it wasn't centuries of decay, yet. Ducking under the doorway and stepping inside, she calmly walked through the building and looked around to refamiliarize herself with the interior. It was slightly different, but she eventually found the staircase that would've led to the second floor. At the bottom of the staircase, she could hear a familiar voice arguing with someone. Interested, she stepped lightly as she climbed up the staircase. Listening while she did.
"…What do you mean they were wearing Power Armor?! Not even the .50 Cal did anything?!" a familiar voice argued with seemingly no one in particular. "Well, where the hell are you even going?! You can't leave me here! I don't care if they might be Overwatch or the Feds, I don't wanna be stuck here!"
Veronica finally reached the second floor and slowly stepped to where she heard the voice. Then, she stepped over to a doorway and spotted the man they had encountered the night before. The one that flipped them off when she told them to back off Senior and Joseph. He was holding a black rectangular device against his ear as he paced back and forth in an office.
"You're heading back to the Gorge? Like hell you are! Turn your ass back around and pick me up!" he yelled, completely oblivious to the hulking suit of armor watching him. "I don't care if the bosses are gonna be angry, it's better than being stuck here… Wait, they can't be inside I haven't heard anything-"
That's when he finally saw the suit of APA standing in the doorway.
"What's up?" Veronica said, bringing her fist up. "Remember me?"
"…Fuck," he grumbled, dropping his phone.
The sun was beginning to rise on the dusty little berm of Goodsprings, with some of the townsfolk getting up for the day but many others just sleeping in as there wasn't going to be much for them to do. However, one resident didn't walk out of their home but instead stumbled out of the Pioneer Saloon, barely having control of their faculties from a night of heavy drinking. His eyes hurt as he stepped into the daylight, putting on his big brim hat to shield them. His badge glowing in the morning sun.
Trying to stand straight up, he walked over to where his patrol car was parked to get in. However, he felt the sun get blocked out from behind him and instinctively turned around to look. Instantly seeing Senior's truck slowly driving up the road to town with a full bed of the Deadlock outlaws bound and gagged, two hulking figures in Power Armor flanking either side of the truck. That sight alone was enough to bring Billy out of his hangover as he dropped his car keys.
He wasn't the only one to notice, as other townsfolk began to gather around the main road and watch the small caravan drive further into town. More townsfolk filling out into the street, waking up now from all the commotion in the normally quiet morning. All of them now coming out to see the spectacle paraded through their main street. Some of the very outlaws that harassed their homes for so long now hanging their heads low with an armored escort bearing down on them. Strangers in armor they've never seen holding weapons they've never seen. The blood on them an indicator of what happened to the other gang members. And driving the truck was one of their own, bearing an unassuming but satisfied smile.
Pulling up and stopping between the General Store and the Saloon, Senior hopped off and walked to the back of his truck. He stood with the others as the townsfolk began to gather around, but not getting too close. Wondering who those people in armor were, why one of the dogs was part metal, and why Senior had Deadlock in his truck bed. A bit scared, a bit in awe, but curious. Wondering what people who looked like Overwatch were doing in the middle of nowhere.
Then, Senior spoke.
"Everyone!" he began, putting a confident hand on Veronica's left pauldron. "You owe these people a drink!"
There was some confusion, some murmuring, at first. People making uneasy glances with each other and muttering questions to each other. Some caution about the people in armor, the man with the red beret, and the dog with a brain-dome. But they also saw the band of restrained Deadlock gang members, and that was a sight they wanted to see for quite some time. Some of the old-timers barely remembering a time without those bastards grinding their boots into this town, but smiling when those days might come back, again. Some of the younger people sharing that joy, too, upon their realization. Then, to the relief of the outsiders, the townsfolk began to cheer for them.
First time experiencing it without Nathan.
Responses...
Guest: Okay... Can you tell me why you don't enjoy them? So I can make them... Enjoyable?
