Author's Note: First off, I need to say this, just so I don't tread on anyones toes; Overwatch, and all characters affiliated, are copyrights of Blizzard Entertainment and no copyright infringement is intended for this story. All rights belong to Blizzard Entertainment and this story is strictly a fan-fiction, meant for entertainment purposes only.
Now that that's out of the way, I thought I'd share a few things. This story has been tumbling around in my head for the last couple of weeks and I decided to finally craft it. Though it's not my normal cup of tea, I decided to write this because firstly, I'm an Overwatch fan and secondly, the whole idea was just too cool to let it die.
Just so people are aware, this is a no sex fan fiction, about a character that does not officially exist in the Overwatch universe. Though, when I wrote this, I did with full respect for the canon, as a means of creating a story that people could believe would exist in the game. If it did become reality and was put in the game, well, I think that would be awesome. Just thought I'd put that out there. Without further ado or speculation, let it begin.....
The transport ship soared through the cold Canadian air, its engines roaring with power. Lena Oxton, piloted the ship as it returned to home base, the crew having completed their mission. She chanced a look back, to see how her companions were faring on the long flight home.
Sitting in one of the built in benches that lined the transport's walls, was Jack Morrison, a.k.a. Soldier 76. His mask was off at the moment and he was currently leaning against the bulkhead, with his eyes closed, deep in thought. A couple of meters further back, sat Alexandra Zaryanova, whom everyone called Zarya. The brawny woman was busy tuning her Particle Cannon, making sure that it was still ready to fire when needed.
Opposite them, stood Mei-Ling Zhou, the very reason that they had gone up to North Pole in the first place. Despite being nearly forty years old, she didn't look a day over thirty-one. Tracer supposed that being frozen in cryo sleep for nine years would do that to you. She was busy fussing over one of the tablets she had brought, going over the climate readings that she'd taken.
For some unknown reason, the climate of the planet had been changing at an accelerated rate, and no one knew why. Mei had been chasing these abnormalities and anomalies since she woke up. She had made it her life goal, to find out why exactly these things were happening. Jack and Zarya had gone along with her on this mission, to ensure that there weren't any unexpected surprises up there.
Thankfully, the mission had been a success and everything had gone off without a hitch. Lena maintained her focus on her flightpath, the Canadian government granting them a flightpath though their airspace. Despite the Petras Act's political ramifications, they were granted safe passage though. Jack and much of the old guard from Overwatch, had some friends in high places and pulled some strings. As long as no weapons were being fired, the government would turn a blind eye to their presence.
"Come in, Snowhawk One, this is Hawk Nest. Snowhawk One, come in please," came Winston's voice over the comms line. The peppy British woman started in surprise, as it was unusual for any sort of contact to be happening when they were still so far out. Lena answered the call, flipping the switch, putting the call through to her cockpit.
"Snowhawk One here. I read you Hawk Nest. What's the trouble?" Tracer responded, as the holographic image of the intelligent ape, flared to life on her right. When anyone saw the Winston for the first time, they often thought of him as some sort of oddball gimmick gone wrong. Most people would be wrong in that assumption though, as he often would have a kindly disposition. He also possessed a great love for humanity and his friends, which was echoed in his actions. Though he was a kind being at heart, few would dare cross him intentionally, as his exploits in Overwatch were well documented.
"We just got some new information from a reliable source. There's a former Overwatch agent near your current position. Going on the intel we recently acquired, it seems like Talon is after him," Winston stated, his gentle face quite serious.
"Another agent? Who?"
"Michael Perun, a former JTF2 operative. He was recruited quite some years ago. Official records say that he's dead, but we've received documented proof that he's still alive," Winston replied. Moments later, an information packet was uploaded to the transport, the onboard computer pinging when the upload completed.
Lena set the autopilot and then brought up the file. Sergeant Perun had been a busy man when he served in the JTF2, even more so after he had joined Overwatch. With more than a dozen commendations for bravery from the Canadian military, he was the very exemplar of a good soldier. He had saved his team on more than on occasion, always managing to find ways out of impossible situations. He often cited that it was his instincts, that had gotten them out of scrapes that should have seen his whole unit K.I.A.
Lena zoomed in on his picture, getting a good look at the man. The large man would have been the poster boy for recruitment, if his operations hadn't been so secret. The soldier stood at six foot three, weighing in at two hundred and thirty-five pounds of solid muscle. His solid jaw line and high cheekbones was indicative of his Euro-Slavic ancestry. He had a wide frame, brown hair and brown eyes, which seemed to twinkle with a sense of mischief.
Cycling through the photos, she found the more recent ones that had been taken and she did a comparison. The newer photos showed a man who was well into his thirties, a few pounds heavier, with some gray at his temples and a hardened look about him. After a brief computer scan comparison, the match correlation was over ninety-six percent. The man in the photos was indeed, Michael Perun.
"I remember him," Jack said from behind Lena, as he leaned over her right shoulder to get a better look at the image. "A good man and an outstanding soldier. He was transferred to Blackwatch, as a means of putting his skill set to good use."
"I don't think I've ever met him," Tracer said, scrutinizing the image.
"Few people did. He was a very private man, played things close to the vest. He was every bit as boisterous as Reinhardt though, when he had a few drinks and loosened up," Jack said, his brown eyes looking over the newer images. "Are you sure the source is reliable?"
"It is. The intel came from the Olive Branch," Winston clarified, making Jack and Lena's eyes widen. The Olive Branch, was an online personality, or personalities, but no one truly knew. They had offered the reformed Overwatch group much needed intel from time to time. Though the price he/she/they asked was sometimes steep, the information was usually spot on the nose and invaluable to them.
"What's the price tag?" the white haired soldier asked, his face already wincing at what they may have asked for.
"That's the only real oddity about this piece of intel. They offered it to us, for free."
"What?!?" Lena responded incredulously. Jack's face was equally stunned and bewildered, as hers. It was practically unheard of for the Olive Branch to offer such information for no cost.
"Did they give any reason why?" Jack continued.
"None, but they did say that Talon is likely to have their boots on the ground shortly, if they don't already," the kindly ape said worriedly. Nodding, Jack turned back to see if either Mei or Zarya had heard. Seeing them standing behind him, it was evident that they had. Jack opened his mouth to speak, but the Russian woman beat him to it.
"He is a soldier who could help us rebuild and a man who will need our help. Never leave a fallen comrade behind," the big woman stated as she offered her hand to the battle scarred American. Reaching out, he clasped her arm, as one soldier to another. He looked over to the Chinese climatologist and though she seemed nervous, there was also the look of determination on her face.
"I may not be able to help much, but I will do what I can in order to help out. Overwatch needs to rebuild, if there's ever going to be any chance of hope for this world," Mei said ominously. Her little droid, Snowball, chirped an affirmative, fully behind his friend.
"Send us the co-ordinates Winston. Though it may cause trouble, we need to get there before Talon does. They've been too far ahead of us by half. It's past time that we finally pulled ahead," Lena said, her resolve solidifying.
"Co-ordinates sent. Good luck Snowhawk One. Hawk Nest out," Winston replied before he cut the transmission.
*******************************
Snow kicked up from the sleek, ethereal looking transport as it touched down in a remote area of the Canadian Rockies. The jets were still gushing out hot exhaust when the rear loading hatch opened, slamming the ramp into the frosty landscape with a crunch. Heavy armored boots clunked down the ramp, as the black figure took in the snowy forest around him.
Though he didn't need it here, Reaper still preferred to wear his mask, rather than not. It also helped that it kept him warm, as he wasn't one for this climate. He was used to sunnier venues whenever he was out in the field, but he didn't complain. No one ever heard the man, who had once been Gabriel Reyes, complain. Since his change, he had become a shadow of what he once was. Some people called him a demon, though it never seemed to bother him.
Further up the ramp, the clicking of three different sets of feet sounded, each one far smaller than Reaper's. He sighed wearily, as all three women lined up behind him, each one in their usual tactical stance, with some added cold weather gear.
The first woman, who stood to his right was Amelie Lacroix, a gorgeous woman who went by the callsign, Widowmaker. Her skin was a cold, ice blue, but not nearly as cold as her golden eyes, which shone in the late day sun. Widowmaker's black hair, which normally hung in a loose ponytail, was done up in a bun this time, primarily to keep it out of her face. Her sniper rifle/assault rifle weapon of choice, Widow's Kiss, lay comfortably in her grip as she surveyed the area for any threats.
Moira O'Deorain, was a modest looking ginger haired woman, who no one would have picked out of a crowd. Were it not for the metal plate that gleamed on the left side of her face, she would have been unnoticeable. A brilliant geneticist in her own right, it was her advancements in genetic research, that gave Reaper the abilities that he possessed today. Though she tried to look cold and disinterested, she was as giddy as a school girl, as the mission they were on was one of great interest to the disgraced scientist.
