Revision 2/2/2019: Forgot that FanFiction deletes DVa's name with the period. DMon's as well. Fixed it.
Busan, South Korea
Like much of the country, the city of Busan shined bright and colorfully in the dead of the night. A rainbow of flashing lights and colors radiating out from the city skyline and into the surrounding air, reflecting off the dark sea. Regardless of whether Busan was asleep or not, the Mobile Exo-Force of the Korean Army vigilantly stood watch on their platform just a few kilometers off the city's coast. Busan is home to some of the staff and pilots stationed on the Korean military base, while others were just doing their duty of protecting and serving their nation.
In the case of the base's newest arrivals, only one of them originally fought for the safety of her country before going on to more grandiose things.
"Tell Fare we're safe and sound here in Busan, Winston. Or should I say Wizz?" Jesse chuckled, holding the holopad that had the Scientist's face streaming to him, standing outside one of their parked dropships.
"Very funny, Jesse," Winston responded, rolling his eyes. "Glad to see the Koreans, or at least MEKA, are still gracious to us after we've helped them. Feels like it happened a long time ago, now…"
"A lot certainly has happened since, then. Like having Hana join us after that, against her better judgment, for starters."
"Yes, and all the other things that came after… Like Brin."
"Eeyup. How's Bastion by the way? Figured I'd pass on to Nathan what's happening in his absence."
"Bastion's fine. So is that bird, too. Fareeha is still trying to figure out exactly what role Bastion should have with us, but Major Nikonov is giving her some suggestions."
"Like what?"
"Well, there are talks about using Bastion's omnic hardware and software as a means of infiltrating the Siberian omnic network, with him being one of the last Omnic Crisis-era Bastions left. One that's cooperative, too. However, Fareeha and I don't want to risk having Bastion be compromised as a result, but Nikonov is insistent."
"Figures. Always thought the big ole' robot would better to have at your side as another gun. A living gun."
"Ehhh… We'll see about that. Message us when you're done refueling and heading stateside, Jesse. Oh, and I already know you have your own reasons for going there, but if you can, try to link up Jack and Ana, please. It's been a while since I've heard anything from them when they went to Groom Lake."
"I'm sure they're fine. Y'know how they are: old soldiers, 'hard to kill', and all that. But if I need to make a detour and find 'em, I'll let you know. Later."
The holopad blinked off and McCree was left to watch over the ship while it was refueled and maintained by some of the MEKA crew helping them. Wishing he could find a place to smoke.
On the other side of the base in an area that had a launching ramp pointed outward to the Korean Strait, Hana, wearing a pair of slim jeans and a black MEKA branded jacket, sat on some crates while chatting with one of the other mech pilots on base – a woman with roughly the same complexion and height as her, if a bit taller. She had black hair that was parted to the right and only reached down to the base of her neck. The mech pilot also wore a MEKA jacket but had a suit similar to DVa's underneath but bright red. On the white part of her left thigh, the callsign "DMon" was sketched into it.
The two mech pilots were catching up – obviously in Korean – since Hana had not been there for quite some time. Catching up on stuff like how they've been, what they've been doing in her absence, what she's been doing in her absence, and so on. Was nice to talk with her friends actually face-to-face and not through a holoscreen for once.
"So, yeah. I helped Overwatch secure a big victory for the Russians in Siberia. No biggie," Hana casually bragged to her friend as she stretched her arms upwards, acting tired.
"Yeah, sure you did," DMon replied, rolling her eyes. "I bet your team had to carry you and you didn't even get a majority of eliminations. Like I always had to."
"Of course, not! I wasn't the only one and there were a lot of us. Still doesn't mean I didn't get a lot of elims."
"You didn't stream the battle this time, so how do I know you're not lying?"
"I'm not! And you're one to talk, Yuna. Always getting your mech scrapped every other battle with the Gwishin."
"Really? You're going to lecture me on that?"
"Ugh, whatever!"
Yuna laughed at Hana's expense, the pink mech pilot becoming a little grumpy as she aggressively sipped Nano-Cola that came with the dinner they were having together.
"Still, being with Overwatch… I have to remind myself that's what you're doing, now," Yuna admitted, shaking her head but still smiling. "You know how often Kyung-soo and Seung-hwa complain how you're with Overwatch and they're not?"
"They're more than welcome to join," Hana stated, grabbing her noodle cup.
"Yeah, but with everything that has Captain Myung worried, including the Gwishin, they're probably not going to set foot off base for a while. Doesn't stop them from complaining, unfortunately. Always going on about how cool it must be and how awesome some of the Overwatch agents are. They even got Jae-eun to watch your streams, now."
"Really?" Hana asked, mildly surprised with strands of noodles hanging from her mouth. "He never watches anyone else's stuff!"
"I know, and to be honest, I kind of got interested, too."
Hana frowned at her with a mouth full of noodles before gulping it down.
"I thought you didn't like Overwatch?" she asked.
"Eh, I still think this is one of the stupidest ideas you've ever done and are putting your career at risk, but they seem cool I guess," Yuna explained, shrugging. "I do think it's weird how you refer to some of them as 'Dad' or 'Mom', though."
"You wouldn't understand," Hana defended. "There are some cool people in this New Overwatch and I'm friends with them! And you know I don't take my name calling lightly, so the ones who got their names earned it."
"Really?" Yuna posed, deviously perking an eyebrow before she looked away from Hana and towards the back of the launch bay. "Does he have one, then?"
Hana looked to where she was pointing and saw Nathan Brin following a young man in a MEKA branded mechanics uniform with fingerless gloves and short, black hair. Brin obviously towered over the Korean leading him, easy to spot amongst the base. If it wasn't his height or mass, though, it was his scars that made it so.
"Him?" Hana asked, worried that Yuna might ask more prying questions about him. "Uh… I call him 'Uncle'."
"Uncle?" Yuna repeated, knitting her brow. "That's Uncle?! The one you've been telling us about in the group chats?"
"Uh, yeah."
Yuna, visibly surprised, looked back at the tall Waster as he was led further into the bay and out of sight. She looked back at Hana with a devilish smile that didn't look right in the light.
"You never told me how handsome he was," she said.
"What?!" Hana exclaimed, her face scrunching up in surprise and disgust. "Eww!"
"I just only wish all of you could stay here a bit longer so I could try my shot with him. Wonder how many scars he has."
"He's like 40!"
"So? I like older men."
"Ugh, I regret coming here, now. Don't say anymore or else you can say goodbye to that Lúcio autograph I promised."
Inside the room he was just led in to, Nathan saw five bays each with a distinct color and mech, excluding one. The first four bays – ranging from green, red, yellow, and blue – all had mechs that were different in color, size, and shape to Hana's "egg".
"These are where our pilots keep their mechs when it's their downtime," the young mechanic started to explain. "This is where I spend a lot of my time, though. Making sure each and every one of these beauties are in top shape."
"Huh," was all Nathan could really say, examining the impressive hardware. He still believed "mechs" were just fancier power armor.
As Nathan examined the mechs, the young man looked at him and wondered how he got wrapped up in giving this monster of a man a tour of the base. Of course, when someone as large and scary as him – presumably a friend of Hana's from Overwatch of all things – just walks up to him, asks if he speaks English, and then asks to show him around the place, he wasn't confident to say "no". Thankfully, he was rather polite and civil, quieter than he expected. More interested in listening and watching than speaking. Pleasant, so far, but if he was a part of Overwatch, he didn't want to know what he was like when he wasn't.
"Hey, uh… Sorry, what was your name, again?" Nathan asked.
"Oh, uh, Dae-hyun," the mechanic answered.
"Okay, Dae-hyun. I presume the last bay – the pink one – belongs to the kid, right?"
"You mean Hana? It does, but obviously, she hasn't used it since she joined you guys a while back."
"So, it seems."
Nathan walked up to the occupied bay doors, examining each of the color-coordinated mechs. He didn't need to be a Brotherhood Scribe to realize the serious hardware that each of these things boasted and the damage they could do. The closest example he could think of was just Power Armor with jetpack units strapped to them, but he wasn't sure they were nearly as maneuverable from what he's seen Hana do. It made him wonder, though.
"So, what kind of power supply do these things run on?" Nathan asked, interested in what runs them.
"Oh, uh, well, I can't really give the specifics. You know, classified military specifications and such. But they do each run on fusion reactors custom-built and tailored for their individual configurations. Hana's mech I think has the largest power output out of all them."
"How long does the power last in these things?"
"We charge them after every deployment, but I think the longest they can last is… About a month."
Nathan blinked.
"What? That's it?" he asks, genuinely surprised machines as sophisticated as these had such measly charges.
"That's the longest anyone has been able to manage for suits like these. Well, for any powered suit like these," Dae-hyun responded, equally confused in Nathan's reaction. "Why? Do they have something better in America? Or in Overwatch?"
Nathan blinked again as he looked at him. Wondering how to respond.
"Not… 'American' per se, but the suits of Power Armor I've used have fusion cells that can last for a couple hundred years without charge."
Dae-hyun blinked this time.
"What?! A couple hundred years?! I-I don't believe that. It sounds out of this world!" the MEKA mechanic exclaimed.
"That's one way of putting it."
Before Nathan could even ask any more questions about the mechs or anything on this base, he heard his name echo from the halls and slowly get louder. He walked outside of the mech bay, Dae-hyun following. They walked outside and saw McCree talking to Hana and her friend.
"Have you guys seen Nathan?" they heard McCree asking them.
"I'm here! What's up?" Nathan called out, walking up to them.
McCree hurriedly walked up to him, visibly flustered.
"I just got a call from Fareeha. She got intel that the train just got scheduled to go a day earlier than planned!" he explained, holding up his phone.
"Ah, shit," Nathan cursed, now realizing the urgency. "Why?"
"I dunno, but all I know is that the train is going to get moving in just a few hours so we need to haul ass right now! But there's another problem, we can't take the dropship there anymore because she'll be too slow. I'd rather arrive on time if you can't tell."
Jesse turned to Hana. "Which is why I wanna ask if we can borrow one of the jump-jets on base? Something that's just fast enough to get the two of us there."
Hana, Yuna, and Dae-hyun all exchanged unsure glances with each other, realizing that even despite all the help they gave them this was a pretty tall order for the Korean Army from internationally recognized criminals.
"I'll ask Captain Myung," Hana stated as she hopped off the crate and ran to the other side of the base, Yuna and Dae-hyun following her.
"I'll get my gear," Nathan said as he ran off to where the dropship was parked.
McCree nodded and stood next to the metal crates with half-eaten Korean food. He looked out at the wide sea that the MEKA base pointed towards. The Exo-Force at least ready to deal with threats at a moment's notice.
A couple hundred miles west of Flagstaff, Arizona
Much like its flag suggests, Arizona looked stunning when the sun began to rise up from the horizons and shined upon the wide-open landscapes. Especially when the sun illuminated the tall, red rock spires that reached up to the sky. Large monuments that would humble any passer-by or traveler driving along these old, American roads. Many of those travelers and tourists, foreign or native, have been long gone in the late-21st-Century, but one of these old spires provided shelter for outsiders and native-born, alike.
High up on one of these rock spires, a campfire was set up next to Senior's parked truck, most of the gear and supplies still stowed on the bed and trailer. The campfire had been going on for the past couple of hours before the sun rose, with bedrolls placed next to them. One of the bedrolls was still occupied by Veronica, who struggled for a bit and got to sleep much later than the others. She hugged tight to Cooper, who was sharing the bedroll with her, both undisturbed by the sunset as it crept up on them. Cooper awoke to the sound of dirt scrapping and snapped his head up to see a hand come down on him.
"It's all right, boy," Ana said to the dog, petting him gently and assuredly.
Cooper didn't make any objections, only yawning in response before laying his head back down on the bedroll. He didn't know them long, but he liked the old lady and that masked man. They reminded him of Nathan.
Ana then reached over to Veronica and calmly shook her shoulder. It didn't take much to wake her as shook herself asleep, rising off the ground a bit. She slept much better other days, long past.
"Come on. It's time to wake up, now," Ana said, a motherly tone almost creeping in. "Morrison's got something to say."
"Yes, ma'am," Veronica couldn't argue, despite how rattled her head still felt.
"Just call me Ana."
Veronica got up from the bedroll, leaving Cooper to rest, and looked around to see everyone else up. Parmley and that masked man sat around a campfire, the latter examining a paper map while the other tended to a pot. Boone and Rex were standing watch near a cliff edge, overlooking a wide-open stretch of desert that slowly became draped in sunlight.
'He was always the first one up,' Veronica silently remarked about Boone as she went over and took a seat next to the campfire.
Parmley offered a cup of what was in the pot and she took it, taking a sip and not recognizing this brew from any of their packs. A sweet and soft mixture that had a bit of spice to it.
"That's a brew Ms. Ana had in her pack. Not half-bad," Parmley explained, having a cup for himself.
Veronica looked at Ana as she approached Boone and Rex, telling them to head to the campfire. The fellow Sniper nodded, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and patting Rex on his metal side.
When everyone had gathered at the campfire, Ana prompted Jack to start. Jack nodded before standing up from his seat and waving the others to follow him. They were soon standing around the hood of the truck where he set the map down flat over it for all of them to see. The Arizona sun giving them all the light they needed.
"Okay, here's the situation," the Soldier started. "Our comms are still being jammed by the government, so any contact with the rest of Overwatch simply isn't getting through. Because we're still being tailed by them and I don't they'll quit anytime soon, our best bet is to head to an old abandoned Overwatch base that is right here."
The ex-Strike-Commander planted his finger on green mass that was close to a municipal area. The label for the green mass was obscured by his finger.
"Ecopoint: Tonto, just northeast of Phoenix, which should be abandoned barring some possible security. But after we get there, there should be some communications equipment or the other that should at least let Overwatch know where we are. Getting there is going to be the hard part."
He then planted his finger on a thin yellow line that was northwest of Phoenix but at a much greater distance on the map. The paper that map was printed on was wrinkled, water-damaged, and looked as old as the car it was stowed in. When they peered closer to where his finger was, they could faintly make out the old label for the road he was pointing to. Seeing the numbers "66" attributed to the route.
"Because we're here," Jack stated bluntly. "And we still got quite a ways before we can reach the Ecopoint. Might have to stick to this road for a while since not many people travel these parts, nowadays. Aside from criminals, like us. We might need to make a pitstop or two, though. And when we do, can I trust all of you to make sure you don't draw any attention to yourselves?"
The Wasters all exchanged glances with each other, Boone obviously being the most stoic of the three.
"Yeah, you bet. As long as we can get there, soon, and no one gets shot in the process," Veronica spoke.
"That might be a tall order for Jack," Ana joked, earning a concealed scowl from him.
"But, uh… This is really embarrassing to say, but do you guys have anything to eat?" Veronica asked somewhat timidly. "I looked over our stuff last night and we got mostly everything out from Goodsprings, but it turns out the sack with all our food wasn't one of them."
Jack and Ana exchanged glances, both of them silently noting how they only had enough rations for just the two of them.
"Huh, we might be making a pitstop earlier than expected, then," Jack stated before he grabbed the map and folded it. "Let's hit the road. We might find something and still put some good distance between us and the Feds."
The Wasters and Overwatch agents quickly tore down their camp, getting back on the road just as the sun was starting to reach the sky. There wasn't any sign of Feds tailing them, but they still traveled across the old road at a generous pace. The inside of the truck was silent for the most part, Veronica finding herself staring out of the window towards the desert, again. Albeit, an Arizonan desert she's never seen with her own eyes. Silently awed by how those large rock towers remained in the distance while she went the fastest she's ever gone in her life. The sun gleaming over the red rock. This ex-Scribe a long way from California now. With sites like these, she did wonder why they seemed to be the only person on these roads. Barring a few aforementioned exceptions, like criminals.
'Funny,' she thought to herself, realizing the irony of their standing in the law in a place they were not even in for long. 'One minute we're heroes to a small town, next minute we're wanted fugitives to a national government – the United States Government!'
It was easy for that to remind her of Nathan, obviously. Only a little bit surprised that he wasn't there with her when all of it happened, which was typically the case back in the day. Pissing off all sorts of people no matter who they helped or assisted, sometimes pissing off the people they were trying to help.
'Some problems you can shoot in the head, others you can't…' Veronica recounted, solemnly, staring blankly at the Arizonan vista. 'Hope they aren't any worse than ours. At least the world seems intact.'
Veronica looked out into the Arizona desert, again. As stunning as it was desolate. 'For the most part…'
However, she had to remind herself that they were closer to finding Nathan and had a definitive answer of where he was. That he was alive, too! Veronica would've acted more excited and probably would've talked more of Ana's and Jack's ears off with questions about him, but she cautiously subdued herself from acting too much like herself. Cautious of the consequences of her own enthusiasm. In spite of all that, she wouldn't trade those times for anything else in the world.
But they were still outsiders far, far away from home.
The first few hours of trekking back through Arizona were relatively peaceful, yet the driver and co-pilot were relatively on edge. The passengers in the backseat were also wary, but there wasn't much for them to do about that other than look at the desert horizons for the twelfth time in a row.
In the first hour of their trip, the scenery started to change as the elevation of the road began to steadily rise until the truck was now winding up and down the sides of mountains. These roads were built next to canyons that were as deep as the rocks were tall, which the Wasters normally wouldn't mind if they weren't traveling at 50-60 miles per hour in an automobile.
Old Jack Morrison, however, loved it. More than he would care to admit or show under the mask.
Taking an old 2016 model with actual wheels along this old stretch of historical road was almost something of a childhood dream of his – one of many. He always wanted to see more of the country with his hands on the wheel or his feet on the ground. For people like him, unfortunately, that was never an option. Even after his duty was finished, he was more of a traveler than a sightseer. His co-pilot, when she wasn't scanning the mountainsides like a falcon, could tell he was probably enjoying himself a bit too much. Smiling at how smooth and gently he turned the wheel, shifted the gear, occasionally dipped below the posted speed limit, and spent more time looking at the rock spires than any encroaching threats in the rearview mirror. He eventually noticed Ana looking over at him with that smirk.
"What?" Jack asked, trying to be coy.
"Nothing," Ana assured, still smirking as she looked away.
The truck winded up more along old Route 66 when they entered a tunnel bored into the side of one of these mountains, Morrison turning on the car lights inside because the tunnel lights were too dim or damaged from years of disrepair. However, on the GPS, Morrison noticed there was a landmark up ahead that indicated food. Possibly a diner. He looked over at the passengers in the back, some of them getting restless from being cooped up in a moving vehicle for much longer than they have ever been. Then looking down at his own stomach and noting he was starting to feel peckish.
Looking at the clock, it was 11:49 AM.
"Alright, y'all hungry?" the driver asked, looking over his shoulder for a second. "I am. There's a place up ahead. Might be a diner. You do all know what a diner is, right?"
He felt like having waffles.
The truck exited the tunnel and immediately on their right was, undoubtedly, a diner. Morrison eased on the gas and drove the truck to a patch of dirt on the side of the road. The truck overlooking a canyon that was deep and wide, a rail-bridge spanning the entire length of it on great arches and came over the tunnel into the mountains.
"Ana, how about you take 'em outside and see if the place is still open for business?" Jack said as he twisted the ignition off.
"What about you?" Ana asked.
"I'll keep watch with the dogs. I'll join you in a bit."
"Okay."
Ana removed her seatbelt and opened her door, gesturing to the others to follow her out of the car.
"Oh, make sure you bring your weapons with you," Jack advised.
"What? Wouldn't that make people uneasy?" Veronica questioned.
"Out here, they'd wonder why you didn't bring any weapons."
So, the Wasters and Ana complied. All of them bringing their signature weapons with them.
With the Wasters in tow, Ana got to the front entrance of the diner. The door split open and separated automatically, and they walked in to greet the receptionist desk. At the desk was a woman older than Ana in a waitress's uniform, her face buried in a holopad and acting like she didn't even notice the door had opened. Even when the group the of armed individuals walked up to the desk, the old lady was too buried in what seemed to be some type of card game on her device.
Ana decided to take the initiative. "Hi, we'd like to-"
"Money or food?" the old lady boringly asks.
"Excuse me?"
"Money or food? You gonna rob us or you wanna eat?"
The Wasters exchanged glances with each other in varying levels of surprise. Ana frowned.
"Umm… The latter."
The Waitress sighed as she had put down her game and reached over to a pile of dusty menus.
"How many?"
"Five."
She grabbed five menus and got off her chair, waddling out from behind the desk.
"Umm, excuse me, miss?" Veronica piped up. "We also have two dogs outside. Is it okay if we-?"
"I don't care," she cut her off, more bored than annoyed. "This place won't look any different if there was a pile of dogshit on the floor."
"Oh. Uhm, thanks."
"Just so you know we don't accept credit chips, only cash."
The four followed the waitress into the restaurant, seeing the style of the décor and the furniture. Ana recognized the diner as being made in the style of 1950's America, while the Wasters recognized the style as Pre-War. Lots of stylized posters and pictures plastered over the walls, a little bar with cherry red stool-seats, and a working jukebox with actual vinyl records.
After they had gotten seated at one of the booths with a window and given their menus, Ana decided to check on Jack outside. Walking through a set of automated double doors dedicated to the booth wing of the diner, Ana walked outside to see Jack nor the dogs at the truck. She looked to her left and saw him sitting on the steps leading to the front entrance, the dogs sitting by his feet. He wasn't wearing his jacket nor his mask and was smoking a cigarette from a carton she knew he didn't have before. As she approached him, both the dogs walked up to her.
"Where did you get that?" Ana asked, not approving of what he was doing while she pets the dogs.
"From one of their packs," Morrison simply stated as he gave the cigarette a pull while he examined the carton. "They have a lot, so I'm sure they won't miss one. Consider it repayment."
"I thought you quit smoking, Jack?"
"That was a long time ago."
"When is it never?"
Ana rolled her eyes as she went over and sat down next to him, the two old soldiers staring down the old road. After giving another pull, Jack offered the cigarette to her. She squinted at both the cigarette and him.
"You know I want to be there when Fareeha has children, right?" Ana chided but took the cigarette from his ungloved hand and brought it to her lips.
Her eye was closed when she inhaled the cloud of lit tobacco into her lungs but immediately shot open as she began coughing. Violently hacking her lungs up into a closed fist while Morrison laughed. The two dogs looking at them.
"That is horrible!" Ana exclaimed between coughs, her face wrinkling more as she practically pushed the cigarette back into Jack's hand.
"It is! Isn't it?" Jack agreed, bringing it back to his lips and puffing a small cloud out. "If everything they and Brin said is true, these have to be 200-year-old cigarettes we're smoking."
"You're telling me that's what Nathan smokes every time I see him?"
"Yup, and I thought I had iron lungs."
Jack chuckled more as Ana's coughing fit subsided, the two sitting there and staring at the old road, again.
"Do you think after this, that'll be it? Brin will finally be out of our hair?" Morrison asked, exhaling a rather large cloud.
Ana looked at him, studying Jack with her one eye but he was rock solid. Unable to tell if he was elated at the news, or otherwise.
"I don't know," she answered honestly, reaching over and giving Rex a pat on the head. "But I guess for the sake of him and his friends back inside, I hope."
"You're gonna miss him," he teased.
"Perhaps. Although, he certainly doesn't call me 'Mama Bear'."
"He seems to respect you like one."
"…Perhaps."
"I wonder what the others will think."
Ana stood up, dusting herself off.
"Throw that away and come inside. It's almost lunchtime," she ordered as she was about to walk to the diner.
Suddenly, a train horn blared over the canyons and they instantly looked up at the bridge arching across. However, as the train had driven over them, several charges detonated at key spots along the arch. The dogs bolted towards the diner entrance, but the humans weren't quick enough on their feet.
"Ana!" Jack screamed as he wrapped his arms around her and they both fell to the ground. Trying to shield her with his body when concrete, metal, and train cars began to fall around them.
The ground shook as the train and its cargo spilled out onto the old road. The Wasters weren't even halfway through the menus when the bridge blew, and several hundred tons of cargo fell just feet outside of the window of their booth before rolling into the gorge. A moment later, both Cooper and Rex came running up to them barking their heads off, but the others were silent after witnessing what just happened. Never seen something like that ever happen in their lives. They wasted no time grabbing their weapons and walking out into the turmoil. The jukebox's music returning to normal after a few seconds.
Once the automatic doors opened, the Wasters were met with a cloud of dust and smoke that hung in the air from the train crash. Veronica having to shield her eyes, at first. The sight of the train wreck was the first thing they could even see through this cloud, cargo and train parts strewn all over the road with several patches of fire next to them. The train cars all had an encircled white star painted onto all of them, and most of their cargo seemed to be crates or boxes with similar markings or none. However, they couldn't find the Overwatch agents.
"Ana? Jack?" Veronica called out but received no reply. Unable to find them where they were standing just a few minutes ago. That cloud hurting her eyes. "Ana! Jack! Are guys okay?"
Then, her eyes widened upon the realization that the truck carrying all their gear and equipment might have been one of the many things crushed in this incident. Worrying that they may have lost more than the old soldiers.
"Try to find Jack and Ana, okay? I need to check on our things," she told Parmley before storming off and not even giving him time to respond.
Running through the smoke, covering her nose and squinting while she wafted through the cloud. Eventually, she found the truck still parked in the same place but quickly became distraught upon realizing that it was pinned under a train car. The truck itself was crushed, beyond repair, but the bed and the trailer hitched to it seemed mostly intact. She ran up to their gear, still covered in a tarp, and tried to find a way to free them. She was too busy pulling on a chain to notice someone walk up behind her and place the twin barrels of a shotgun on her back. Veronica froze once she felt it, slowly turning her head to see who it was.
"Hands up," she heard a man speak while he cocked the shotgun. "Boss! We've got a live one here!"
She felt the shotgun push into her. "Move."
Veronica did as she was instructed, not wanting to gamble with two rounds of buckshot primed and aimed at her back. She was quickly escorted to the middle of the road where the air was clear, and she saw ahead of her a floating cart. What immediately caught her eye was a huge omnic the size of a Super Mutant, if not bigger – wearing a fur-leather jacket, tiny bowler hat, and "mustache" welded to his metal face – carrying an egg-shaped silver crate to the floating cart. Someone stood on the cart, wearing a long, black coat with the Deadlock logo inscribed on the back in gold, a black hat with a very wide brim, and a head of solid-white hair.
"Hey, boss! Look what I found," the man said as he walked in front of Veronica, keeping that shotgun aimed at her. Revealing himself to be wearing a sleeveless leather vest, leather chaps, and a stahlhelm with goggles and a yellow Deadlock bandana mask.
The "boss" turned around to reveal the front of her western business attire donning a red tie, having multiple straps and belts wrapped around her midsection, armor plating all over her right arm, and exposed forearms showing off tattoos etched into pale skin. Beneath that big hat with a golden ornament were a set of blood red eyes. The rest of her face was obscured by another Deadlock bandana.
"Huh… Now, who are you supposed to be?" the woman asked with a drawl in her voice.
"Uh… Hi…" Veronica cautiously greeted as she looked around to see there were more men about, all of them Deadlock members. Counting at least a dozen from where she was. Some wearing stahlhelms, others not. "Well, this is awkward, but I think there's a misunderstanding here."
"Usually I'd agree. Tourists usually don't come up 'round these parts. For good reason."
She swung an ornate lever-action rifle to her supporting arm – black and gold with red highlights.
"What's with the getup? You a doctor? If so, what're you doing with a fist like that?" the gang boss questioned, gesturing to her arm with the muzzle of her rifle.
'Oh god, what would Nathan say?' Veronica silently questioned herself, not wanting this situation to immediately escalate into a hail of bullets.
"I'm not a doctor, at least, a medical one. And this fist is for personal protection, but not against you guys in particular. I was certainly not looking for trouble."
The woman cocked her head to the side, smirking under that mask.
"It sure did find you, darlin'."
Suddenly, from behind one of the train cars, Parmley, Rex, and Cooper peeked out. The Ranger pointing his rifle at the head honcho.
"Let her go!" he yelled out, instantly catching the attention of a half-dozen gang members pointing their guns at him in return.
The big omnic took a more defensive stance, but his charge just narrowed her eyes at the man.
"Parmley! Don't!" Veronica yelled, still keeping her hands up. "Rex! Cooper! Stay!"
"But-!"
"Just let me handle this!"
Veronica looked back at the ashen-haired woman, who seemed mostly unfazed. Meanwhile, her robot's eyes twitched nervously from her to Parmley.
"Boy, if you don't do what she says, then she'll regret it," the boss stated, then narrowing her eyes at Veronica. "Nice dogs."
"Thanks," Veronica sighed.
"Now, listen. It seems mighty convenient for y'all to show up here, unannounced and armed nonetheless, so you might understand why I might be a bit cautious. This is the type of business where I can't afford to not be. But I tell you what: if you ain't here lookin' for trouble and don't want to give me and my gang any trouble, then I'd be more than obliged to send y'all on your merry way."
The boss shrugged, casually swinging her rifle up and resting it on her shoulder. "After you and the Texas Ranger-wannabe drop your weapons and tell those dogs to heel."
Parmley, obviously, took offense to that but held back from squeezing the trigger for Veronica's sake. His finger hovering mere millimeters from it, though.
"That's, uh, more foreboding than it needs to be. But it's not like we have much of a choice in this scenario," Veronica relented, feeling the dozen or so rifle barrels on her. With Jack and Ana nowhere to be seen, their Power Armor and Energy Weapons buried, and still charting through alien territory, she knew the odds weren't in her favor.
"Smart girl. Smarter than most," the boss smirked. "Hope y'all don't mind rope burns."
"Wow, at least buy me dinner, first, Miss… Uh, what was your name?"
However, before they could even get to tying ropes around her and the others, one of the gang members walked up to the destroyed truck. Studying it carefully.
"Hey, wait a minute," the gang member said, pointing at the truck. "I-I know that truck! Belongs to some old geezer in Goodsprings!"
The Deadlock boss' smirk faded when she heard the name of that town, looking over to what he was talking about. Veronica felt a chill go up her spine when she realized.
"Goodsprings?" the boss asked.
"Yeah! And… Wait!"
The gang member slowly walked up to the wrecked truck, going over to the trailer hitched at the back. Veronica felt her heart skipped a beat as she carefully watched him go over to the trailer and peek under the tarp. Not even a second later did he jump back after seeing what was concealed underneath.
"That armor… That's the armor they ran us out of town with!" the man exclaimed before spinning around and pointing an accusatory finger at Veronica. "That's the bitch who punched Bill and Javier to death!"
Now, every Deadlock member stood still as they stared at the woman in the doctor's coat, Power Fist held up high into the air. Veronica saw their boss' expression, at first hard to read because of the bandana, reveal itself to be a snarl with red-lipstick when she took it off.
"Is that so…?" her drawl seeped venom, red eyes glaring rifles at Veronica.
An omnic in gang apparel with a green hood slowly got to a position on a trail just to the left of them and had a sniper rifle up to his shoulder, his crosshairs switching between Parmley and Veronica. Eventually, they settled on Veronica, being in the wide open with no one in the crossfire. Unfortunately for the omnic sniper, Boone perched on the diner's roof and had a clear view of him. It wasn't long before he took the first shot.
A crack echoed across the gorge as a rifle round impacted the omnic sniper's and sent him tumbling to the ground, screaming. Veronica quickly dropped her arms and shot a straight jab to the gang member who caught her and was closest, turning the front of his face into pink mush. That was when the rest of the gang started firing, turning the gorge into a small warzone.
Veronica ran to the truck, under fire. The gang member who made the discovery fired at her, but he wasn't able to get a bead as she quickly closed the distance and threw a lethal right hook into the side of his face. Then, taking cover as a rain of bullets and buckshot ruined Clark's truck even more.
Parmley fired, taking cover in a train car and trying to get targets. Rex and Parmley ran and bolted for the cart where the boss stood, firing her rifle with lighting speed at Parmley and Boone. She didn't see the dogs until Rex barked and knocked her off the cart with a soundwave. As she tried to get back up, Cooper hopped on the cart and was about to lunge and sink his canines into her but was batted away by a Route 66 sign by the huge omnic, who had just ripped the signpost out of the ground. Cooper flew with a yelp, sent flying and tumbling across the ground. Veronica watching in horror as he rolled off a cliff.
"Cooooopppeeerrrr!" she let out a blood-curdling scream as she watched Nathan's dog fall from sight, leaving a small cloud of dirt in the air. Tears already welling up in her eyes.
She failed to protect one of the last few things Nathan cherished before his disappearance.
Meanwhile, Rex tried to bark at the big omnic but wasn't able to knock him off his feet, so he latched his fangs onto the signpost. Rex tried to wrestle the sign from out of the omnic's hands but couldn't as the omnic swung him towards the rock and he went out with a whimper. His brain thoroughly jostled by that. The omnic stared at the robotic dog for a moment before looking up and bringing the signpost up just in time to block shots from Parmley's rifle. His boss had gotten up, putting her hat back on.
"B.O.B! Do somethin'!" she shrilly screamed.
B.O.B placed the sign back into its post, tipped his tiny hat forward, and jutted out his right arm. Then, his wrist separated and formed into three, double-barreled cannons that fired energy bolts towards Parmley, whose cover was now being chipped away. Boone had a limited view of B.O.B and tried to line up a headshot on him, but precise, rapid-fire rifle shots from the boss' lever-action caught him by surprise. The Sniper, unfortunately, going against a fellow crack shot and having to displace to better cover.
As she fired her lever-action towards the roof of the diner and flushed out their sniper, she heard a bloodthirsty scream and saw Veronica run from out of the truck and charge her with that truck. One of the men got in her way and had his lower jaw shot off by her fist as she ran over to the cart. Veronica closed the distance as she reached for her sidearm, but B.O.B slammed Veronica into the side of the cart and knocked the wind out of her. Parmley yelled out and tried to cover Veronica but had his rifle shot out of his hands, sent writhing to the floor and clutching his hand. The boss worked the lever of her rifle to eject the spent cartridge before she looked down at Veronica, who was clutching her chest.
Without much hesitation, the gang boss bent down and grabbed Veronica by the throat, holding her in front. She then drew her sidearm, which was a double-barreled shotgun and held that to Veronica's temple. Commanding everyone in her posse to stop shooting, the air of the gorge became startlingly quiet after about a minute of fighting. Boone, the last one holding out, was lying on the roof of the diner with his rifle to his chest and taking cover behind a collapsed neon letter. He couldn't see the road because of the train wrecks, but the gorge carried the gang boss' voice.
"If you don't come out here in the next 5 seconds, I will blow the brains out of your lady-friend with this double-barreled. And after that, I'll use the remaining shell to blow your other friend's brains out!" she threatened, then began. "One!"
Boone sighed, leaning his forehead into his rifle. Now had to a make a choice but couldn't be allowed the courtesy of deciding it through his rifle's scope.
"Two!"
They already traveled so far, they couldn't throw away all of it now. Even if this world seemed to decide otherwise for them.
"Three!"
With or without a scope, decisions never came easy. Especially when those decisions put the lives of people in your hands. He knew that painfully well.
"Four!"
But he remembered the reason he was here, to find the man that helped him cope with those decisions. Live with them.
"Alright, Goddammit! I'm coming out!" Boone yelled, his voice echoing across the gorge as he now worked to climb down.
It didn't take Boone long to climb down the diner and slowly walk out in the middle of the road where the gang could see him, both hands high up in the air with his rifle slung over his shoulder. He stopped just a few yards from where B.O.B. and his boss were, seeing Veronica with a shotgun to the side of her head. Parmley was then escorted to where Boone was by some of the surviving gang members, clutching his bleeding hand. When both men were rounded up and had all matter of firearm pointed at them from multiple angles, the boss let go of Veronica and kicked her towards her friends. Veronica fell on her hands and knees, but her friends quickly helped her get up. The Wasters now had nowhere to go.
"Want us to waste 'em, boss?" one of her goons asked, forcefully taking Boone's rifle off his shoulder with a gun at the ready.
The boss regarded all of them with those blood-red eyes, her finger tapping the trigger guard of her double-barreled. B.O.B blinking and looking between her and them.
"Nah, I ain't done with them, yet," their boss said. "Tie them and their mechanical mutt up and put 'em on the cart. Take whatever's in that truck of theirs, too. See what makes it so… Lethal."
The Deadlock gang did as they were told, only taking a few minutes to tie up the Wasters with rope before plopping them onto the cart. B.O.B. had little trouble grabbing everything from the truck, the trailer was even intact enough to just be hitched to the cart itself. The gang also gathered some of their dead, putting them next to the Waster's as well. Once the gang of outlaws got everything they wanted, and then some, their boss rode up to the cart with her red hovercycle and looked at Veronica, gagged with a bandana.
"By the way, sweetheart, the name's Ashe. And welcome to Deadlock Gorge," Ashe introduced herself, bearing an unwelcoming scowl. "Let's ride!"
Altogether, her gang of bikers flew across the road and the sounds of their engines roared across the gorge when they kicked up dust. The Wasters and their belongings along for the ride.
In just a few seconds, the Deadlock Gang was gone. Long leaving before the federal government could even arrive to investigate. For a while, the gorge was quiet aside from the sparks of electrical fire and the creaking beams of the destroyed rail line. However, along a little trail that dipped below Route 66 along the edge of the canyon near Clark's truck, Cooper slowly limped into view. Whimpering as he held up his right front-paw up and had to make do with the remaining three. Ever so slowly and delicately, he walked over to the front of the diner where much of the train wreckage was but stopped as he got to a small pile of rubble. He sniffed at the ground around the pile, pushing his nose into it as he couldn't use any of his front paws to move the dirt.
Then, the wooden and metal beams began to move when a hand reached out and clawed at the dirt. Cooper's tail wagged, ever so slightly, as he grabbed the hand and tried to pull back with as much strength as he could muster. Eventually, Jack Morrison crawled out of the pile of rubble with one arm, clutching Ana Amari in the other.
When they finally got out from underneath the pile, Jack checked to see if Ana was still alive. She was – barely.
Grunting through the pain he felt in his abdomen, he picked her up in his arms and walked towards the remains of Clark's truck to salvage what he could, whistling after Cooper to follow. After ripping off the driver's door with his Super-Soldier strength, he reached in and was able to retrieve his mask, jacket, and rifle. He was also able to retrieve most of her belongings, too, but her mask was too damaged to even bother.
He knew they wouldn't have long until the US Military would come and investigate what just happened to their train, possibly bringing the Federal Marshals along with them. So, commandeering one of the fallen gang member's hoverbikes, he placed Ana, wrapped in her coat, on the seat with Cooper in front of her. Putting on his mask and jacket, putting their belongings into a duffle bag the bike had, Jack put himself behind Ana and Cooper to make sure he had ahold of them while he drove. Able to reach the handlebars where he was, he twisted the throttle and they sped off onto the old road.
To anywhere but there.
Hey, guys! Just wanted to give a heads-up that college is going to start again for me in a few days, so updates will slow down or stop for the time being.
Thanks for reading!
