Also at https://archiveofourown.org/works/47065192/chapters/118696552
“Thank you for your promptness,” Winston’s dispatch room (and bachelor pad) wasn’t one of the many apartments on Gibraltar base. Angela had never been to it in the old days, so she could only speculate at it’s function. It did, at least, give the gorilla enough room to swing his arms and not get caught on things moving around.
“In an excess of caution, I’ve tried not to have multiple teams out in the field at once. But Athena has concluded that Mercy and Mei would be perfect for this one – and there are reasons.”
He wove a large hand over the presentation table, waking it up.
“While we were sleeping, last night, the KDF – Korean Defense Force – picked up a distress signal from their exploratory cruiser in the South Pacific. It was consistant with a signal Overwatch used 20 years ago.
“It came from Antarctica base?” Mei asked.
“Or very close to it. The cruiser was not able to contact it or do a standard triangulation before the signal was lost. Now,” Winston shifted, “I don’t like it. We recovered the deceased from the base months ago, but we did not attempt to restore main power – the last of which we speculate was used by your escape. As far as we know, there has been no signal from that base since the storm that shut it down.”
“The KDF has informed us it will investigate – whether we send representatives or not. Mercy, as Mei has not yet been cleared for combat missions – would this be suitable for the two of you? Athena thinks we could be keeping the KDF from claiming salvage by doing so. And there’s always the possibility that there are intact Overwatch digital backups somewhere on the base.”
It was always weird then the shortest distance between to points took one over Antarctica. The rocks and ice were in their weeks of day – it was so dazing, neither Mercy nor Mei was regretting the lack of view. at least their route did not take them directly over the base – just to the cruiser. The flight concluded with a rather bumpy landing.
“Meru!” Angela was attacked by a young woman, before she had even gotten off the Orca’s exit ramp.
“Hana! Oh, how long has it been?” She hugged back, “Oh I was hoping to see you. No, let me see you.” She got an arm’s length between the two, “Oh. It really has been a few years hasn’t it.” Mercy frowned. “I’m having a ‘knew you when you were this tall’ moment – Uh. Mei. Hana Song. What’s you rank now?”
“Jungsa – Sergeant First Class. The army finally gave me a bar – trust me to coordinate things. Never any time for that, though.”
“None of us a commissioned here. Hana, this is Doctor Mei-Ling Zhou. She served at a base near the objective for years, so she’s or first hand knowledge.”
Hana looked over the woman, and have a robotic bow. Mei responded in kind.
“She’s also my current study.”
“Oh..?” Hana was immediately more eager.
“Somebody thought certain side effects should actually be studied rather than just enjoyed,” Mercy raised an eyebrow at Hana before turning back to Mei, “Back after Overwatch disbanded, The KDF hired me to develop an ‘Instant heath restore’ system for their MEKA. They had found by that point that good pilots were few and far between. They don’t like losing solders, but this was a case of losing more than an average soldier. And MEKAs are not smooth rides, you know the rest.”
“I know the more I hear if her, Angela Ziegler sounds like a menace.” Mei taunted.
“We tried other Nanite configurations, believe me we did. Overwatch lost good people because of it.”
“Oh, no Meru, you *are* a menace.”
The Korean brief was an awkward affair. The only one there that knew anything of how Overwatch operated was Hana, and she was quite eager to assert her rank while defining the mission.
Her Meka carrying herself and the two Overwatch envoys, would be air-dropped to the base, where they would secure a landing pad and check for anything that could have sent the signal. If further support was merited, the Orca would be sent back for it.
Aboard the Orca, Mei got her first sight of a MEKA.
“I though it would be bigger.”
“It was bigger,” Mercy confirmed, “They definitely have streamlines some things since the ‘Instant heath restore’ days.”
“Oh, it was going to be worse. The wanted to make the cockpit fit like a glove, but we all pushed back on that,” Hana was actually eating. She had a taste for emergency rations, and the Orca had it’s own selection aboard, “Honestly I don’t think the engineers would be satisfied unless they could make Iron Man 6.”
“That… Is that the one with the Terminator in it?” Mei wondered aloud.
“And the metal in his blood. Yeah.” Hana tapped the remainder of nondescript brown pouch into her mouth, “Which is cool, I guess, but any time I’ve had metal leaking out of me it’s a bad thing. But we made the evacuation argument. We have room to save a person if we need to.” she tapped some controls on her arm, and the MEKA came alive for a moment, kneeling down and opening a back hatch.
Mei and Mercy stared in.
“Well, that’s one…” Mei started.
“Please say you came up with this plan *after* hearing Mei was my current project?”
“Warm up, girlies, We’ve got an half an hour to figure this out.” Hana smiled, “I’ll be with you after I use the washroom.”
~
There were, in fact, four visits to the washroom before the MEKA was ready to depart.
“It’s never ‘taking too long’, Mei, It’s being sure.” Angela had scolded as Mei has unwound herself.
Hana had practiced hands-only controls multiple times. She had even practiced it, once or twice, curled backwards like this, sitting on her back, boots hanging out the same holes her arms stuck out of, knees braces against the windshield to keep them from obscuring too much of her view.
Doing this in standard Overwatch winter gear? That was new. Doing it with two mismatched legs and the end of a caduceus staff *also* trying to block your view, while the rest of them and their equipment – which apparently included a large canister of easy freeze something or another – were in a tangle mess out of sight. Until the hatch opened for the air drop, Hana just had to keep calm, endure the building humidity of her cockpit, and try not to bust into laughter at what very confused interior sensors that was going on behind her.
The wind was brisk. The cockpit temperature dropped twenty degrees in a moment. Hana guided the MEKA safely to ground level, quickly identifying the landing pad. In hushed tones Mei instructed her how to switch it back off the depleted emergency power, and back on to the main grid, whose batteries had been seasonally charging for years. The pad sprung to life, heavy metal graters clearing off accumulated ice and snow, giving the Orca a safe place to land. It’s autopilot started the procedure, relaying it’s updated status to the cruiser beyond the horizon, while the MEKA turned away and dove into the sheltered labs below.
Hana fought the urge to run the eject sequence, instead opening the back hatch and pointing the MEKA’s windshield upwards and having it give itself a good shake. The two envoys fell out in a well padded tangle, and unbuckled what she had managed to get on of her harness, she let herself fall out on top of them – to their groaning.
“Oh, come on, what have you been training for, if not to be a crash pad?” Hana pulled herself to her feet, quickly upholstering her blaster. She didn’t plan on being outside the MEKA long, but the disabled controls needed a moment to reset – and exit was the fastest way. The air was certainly not warm – freezing, perhaps – but much better than the windy icescape above.
“If I were training to be a crash pad, I would have worn more padding.” Mei was next up to her feet, gently trying to stretch her aches away.
“Ehhhuh” Angela had landed on Mei’s Cryo tank. and was very much feeling it at the moment. “Anyone seen my staff?”
“Ok – uh, do you need a hand?”
“No hand. Just staff.”
Hana quickly retrieved it, and stood it on it’s end next to Angela, winking at Mei. “Here you go.”
The Blonde seemed to unfurl as she stood upwards, pushing her hand up the staff’s shaft pulling her body upward to meet it. When she got to something like standing – her ankles were bent awkwardly, she seemed to be balancing on the tops of her shoes rather than the soles – she twisted lengthwise around the staff, looking a bit like a child was abusing well worn stuffed animal. given her winter garb.
Hana sighed, “Give her a reason to do it after the mission. It looks a lot more impressive with fewer layers.”
Mei foisted the tank on her back, and powered up her icicle gun. They went their separate ways. searching for what may have gone wrong.
Angela had her blaster drawn. There was no sign of fowl play outside, but one couldn’t be too sure. The mechanical cadence of the MEKA grew quieter, but never disappeared. Hana had assigned herself the outside containers-turned-offices-and-warehousing – there was likely no secret Overwatch material to uncover out there. Angela has gotten recreation area and crew quarters. Still plenty of space to cover – but not something that Mei should have to experience again.
It was one thing to lose friends in a war. A horrible thing, that broke people. But to lose people like this – in a frozen hellscape. That promised to be there when you woke up… to find their freeze dried corpses.
Mei hadn’t been on the recovery team. Hadn’t even been considered. Angela was undecided if this now was closure or cruelty – she sorted through effects of people she did not know, maybe heard names once or twice. This was a tragedy for her. For Mei?
Searching through effects turned up nothing like a beacon. The recreation room? Colder. Breezy, even. One of the hallways had a break in the ceiling, with enough force a former rafter had bee driven through the wall. No sign of a beacon – but that sort of break could trigger an automated system. Something with batteries that needed replacement. But… something didn’t feel right. Angela did a scan of the hallway. It would take someone with more engineering knowledge – Torbjörn perhaps? – to see if it made any sense.
She kept looking. Nothing else caught her eye.
“D.va? From Mercy. Acknowledge.”
“I read back. Everything ok there? Over.”
“I could use a mug of cocoa, but I’m alright. You finding anything? Over.”
“A few of these trailers have shifted off their foundations, broken their power lines, not much more than that. You? Over.”
“I’ve got a partial collapse, in hall… 12? Scans will confirm, not immediate. Please relay to Orca.”
“One moment, wait.”
The silence was erie. The occasional creak – even the little bit of heat the three had introduced could be the cause. The air was too cold to be musty.
“Mercy? Message relayed. Over.”
“Anything from Mei yet? Might join her. Over.”
“Negative. Let me know if we need another boarding point. Over.”
“It will take a minute to get there, please wait for confirmation. Unknown ground. Over.”
“Confirmed, will be listening. Over.”
“Out.”
The length of that conversation was a good a sign as any. Hana was bored. The long way to the offices and labs was as emotionless and utilitarian as any Overwatch had built in it’s later days. Which was one thing when you had fresh air, the Mediterranean, and the Atlantic to look over. Drilled through Ice and stone – this must have been a depressing place without people in it.
“Mei? From Mercy, entering your zone. Acknowledge.”
No response.
There was no dust on the floor. That only meant the cleaning robots were function when it mattered. It was a little warmer here.
The offices showed little sign of being sorted through. That meant nothing – of course Mei would respect their effects.
The labs were full of dead equipment. Unpowered equipment. There was no reason to turn lights on, they had brought their own.
Something like a whistle.
Mercy held her breath, listening.
Someone else was breathing. She tried to locate it.
The wire bundle on the ceiling. That door. It was colder again. The sound of breathing was ragged.
It was a server room. The cooling system had broke, and air wicked in and out though the pipes that remained. But Mei was also there. Laid out on her back. Angela immediately checker her out – dilated pupils, non-responsive – perhaps trauma? There was a storage drive near her head, pulled form somewhere in the servers. He might have put a lot of effort into getting it out… Breathing, very slightly. It was time for the nanites to do their thing. Wait. Air? Something smelled off. Drag her into the hall, then activate nanites. Opening coat – no signs of external bleeding. No signs of abrasions ON he clothing. Blunt force. Necessitate.
“D.va? From Mercy. Follow tracker – turning on now. Need immediate Evac. Acknowledge.”
“Coming. Location? Over”
“Lab 7.”
Mei started to stir.
“No, stay there. We’re taking you back to the Orca. Just breathe.”
Mei took a deep breath and immediately started coughing. “Drive…”
“I’ve got it. For Winston, right? That was not part of the mission.”
Mei smiled, and started coughing again.
Hana ran down the hall, quickly holstering her blaster.
“She got the wind knocked out of her, and breathed in something she shouldn’t have. take the legs. Get her on a bed, come back for me. I’ll get a sample.”
Mei sagged as the two carried her to the back of the MEKA, but she settled in, somewhat alert, before it charged out of the lab.
The air sample showed nothing.
Mei’s coughing fits expelled most of what was there – but her blood work showed signs of an anesthetic.
This wasn’t just not adding up.
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