6.
Overwatch: Birds of Prey
Chapter 5: Redemption
It was two weeks before Captain Kamal saw her in the infirmary.
In his defence, she'd spent a good part of the first week unconscious. She'd briefly return to the waking world, find a man or woman in white above her, try to speak, and then be reduced to slumber. As if she had one foot in the Nile, but as dark as the night was, Nut would never let her cross it. But even so, two weeks. Two weeks of skin grafts to repair her face. Two weeks of shallow breathing as her ribs slowly healed. Two weeks of catching bits and pieces of news from the flatscreen and the doctors' gossip, one day of writing a report and handing it off to a private, before finally, the good captain came to see her. Standing over her bed wearing his uniform, and looking none too happy about, well, anything.
"Well, lieutenant. You're looking slightly less deformed."
There was a chill in the room, and it wasn't just because some handyman had finally got the air conditioning working. That she gave him an icy stare as he walked in didn't account for it either. She could tell as soon as Kamal walked in that this wasn't a visit that he was making out of charity.
"Still prettier than you," she murmured.
"Hmm." He pulled up a seat and sat down next to the bed. "Well. Least that tattoo is gone. So there's that. Now you just need to cut your hair to regulation length."
Involuntarily, Fareeha ran a finger under her right eye. The Eye of Horus was gone, as was the skin it had originally been branded onto. She withdrew the finger quickly though - her skin was still raw to touch. The armour had protected her body from the detonation of Osiris's core, but without a helmet, well...
"I read your report," Kamal said. "Might need to go over a few things."
"Like what? That we had a Talon agent in HSI and no-one knew?"
"That..." Kamal looked around furtively, before returning his gaze to her. "...and other circumstances."
"Like how the Egyptian Army..." She trailed off. She knew the game. The walls had ears, no-one could be trusted, and this debriefing was too informal to get to the stuff that actually mattered. Which begged the question as to why Captain Kamal was actually here. Certainly it wasn't out of charity.
"So what's happening?" Fareeha asked. "I mean, beyond this place."
Kamal grunted. "Don't you watch the news Amari?"
"Course I do. What of it?"
Kamal gave her a smile. "Well," he said, "as I'm sure you're aware, the strike on Null Sector was a big success. Army's got its mojo back, president's offered his thanks, Null Sector is in retreat on three continents."
"You know that can't be attributed just to us, right?"
"Given that we took out a base that could have overrun the entire region if we hadn't acted? Yes, I think we can."
"Right," Fareeha murmured. "So now that you've regurgitated everything I saw on the news, why don't you tell me what's actually going on? In fact, why don't you tell me why you're actually here?" She sat up straight against her pillow, even as her ribs begged her to stop moving. "Go on."
Kamal paused - the black bra she was wearing under her hospital dress shone through the white quite visibly, especially now. But he at least had the dignity to get up, look away, and put his hands in his pockets as he began to speak. "Real story is that the president's pissed, my superiors are pissed, and reports are that Null Sector and Talon are pissed, not to mention the omnics in Siberia and the East China Sea. Right now, there's so much piss that I bet you could grow a garden in the Sinai with it."
Fareeha smiled.
"And most of all, I'm pissed with you." The smile faded, and Kamal looked back at her. "You attempted a rescue of special forces troopers who had no business being there. You lost almost your entire squad. You had a Talon agent under your nose the whole time, and worst of all, you failed to retrieve Osiris."
"Who let Faheer in?" Fareeha snapped. "Who assigned her to the team?"
"That's not the point, Amari."
"Isn't it? Because I-"
"Point is, I think you're lying. I think when you write a report claiming that the Osiris core was destroyed in the crossfire between you and Faheer, you're writing bullshit. We analyzed the wreckage; the only sign of damage is from a rocket."
Fareeha shrugged. "I beat Faheer. Never said I hit all the time."
"Right. Of course." Kamal tried to smile, but it looked more like he was swallowing a toad. "Or, alternatively, you hit the target you wanted to, because you got cold feet."
She glared at him. "You read the report, didn't you?" she whispered.
"Course I did."
"That Osiris self-activated."
"Yes. And?"
"And?" She rubbed her chest, and not just for the physical pain. "You have any idea what a god program could do if it got out into the world?"
"Course I do. That's why the Temple of Anubis is sealed, and we gave you the most advanced quantum micro-computer HSI has ever developed so we could have our own god program to tinker with."
"And yet, you only gave it to me," Fareeha whispered. "And I'm wondering, was that for confidentiality? Or conscience?"
Kamal swallowed the proverbial toad and gave her an honest to gods smile. "People like us, Amari? We don't get to worry about our conscience."
Fareeha turned aside and rested her fist on the pillow. "I'm nothing like you."
"Really? Well, we'll see. Just have a month or so in these stars, see how you like it."
"Excuse me?"
She didn't have to move Instead, Kamal walked over and put something on the bed. Something that bore three gold stars.
"Congratulations, Captain."
Fareeha looked up at him, her eyes wide.
"Not from me, you understand. But there's people who think you've earned it. Or, at least, that you're the best person for the job. After the operation, we're going to need more Raptora troopers, and someone to train them."
"That's nice," Fareeha murmured, taking the captain's insignia in her hands. Rubbing the cold metal between her fingers, before closing a fist around them.
"Not nice, Amari. It isn't charity."
"No, I mean, it's nice that they think I'm still part of HSI." She looked up at Kamal. "Almost nice that you think that as well."
Kamal's face remained impassive, as he murmured, "conscience or captaincy, Amari. From what the doctors tell me, you have three days to figure it out." He walked round the bed and headed for the door.
"What if I didn't have to choose?" She rolled over, fighting the pain, and saw Kamal look back at her. "What if I could do both?"
Kamal frowned. "Don't believe everything you hear on the news Amari. HSI? We're still the top dogs in the game."
Fareeha didn't say anything. She just lay back on the bed, listening to the sound of Kamal's footsteps get ever further away. Fingering the bars between her hands, before putting it back on the table, and lying back in the bed.
She couldn't sleep. She couldn't cry. She could only lie there.
Silent.
Come night, she was still awake. And still silent.
The full moon was shining through the infirmary window. She hadn't moved to close the curtains, nor requested an orderly to do so. It was as if her body was glued to the bed, unwilling to move in a world where so little was actually real - least the ideals espoused by its people. And in a way, she welcomed it. She welcomed that the moon's light was keeping her awake. She welcomed that there was still beauty in this world, even if that beauty was above all the ugliness that plagued it. An ugliness that no matter what channel she flicked on, she was reminded of. Egypt. Brazil. France. Russia. And that was only the ugliness that appeared on the surface, where the war against Null Sector continued. As Faheer had reminded her, the ugliness beneath the surface could be far more dangerous.
And yet Faheer had done the right thing. Sort of. Rubbing her eyes, Fareeha could see Faheer's face in her mind. Often, it was Sadiq's that haunted her dreams these last two weeks. When she turned over and grabbed the mattress, yearning for the warmth of human comfort, it was his body that he imagined beside hers. But this time, it was Faheer. Faheer, the corporal. Faheer, the Talon agent. Faheer, the traitor.
Only we're the birds of prey here, and you? You're just scavengers.
Faheer, the one who spoke the truth.
Pharah. Save the world.
"Shades of grey," Fareeha murmured. "All just shades of grey."
One day, if she met her, she'd ask her mother when she'd come to that realization herself. Perhaps the elder Amari could tell her if the world had ever been different. But that was far in the future, and low on her list of priorities. Her mother had taken her time in revealing to her that she'd survived Poland. She was under no obligation to respond in a shorter amount of time. And besides, the message her mother had sent her was untraceable.
Fareeha grit her teeth and got up, sitting on the edge of the bed as she eyed the drawer beside it. Untraceable. She'd so hoped that she'd managed the same, and maybe, she had.
HSI...transmissions...they know.
At the time, she'd assumed he was referring to her own transmissions. And heck, maybe he had been. But all things considered, Faheer was the more likely candidate. Or so Fareeha hoped as she pulled out the top drawer and picked out her datapad, so kindly delivered to her quarters by one of the orderlies. Activating it, and entering the password, she hoped that in all the commotion, no-one had bothered to check this little doohickey. Or if they had, that they'd found the backdoor program she'd installed. A program that she promptly went to through a backdoor link, and typed, /RUN SEQUENCE
She cast a glance at the captain's bars as she waited for a response. She still had a choice, she reminded herself. HSI wasn't perfect. It never had been, and after today, she knew it would be a long time before they even came close to moving to perfect. But even so, in this world, where madmen sought to burn it down and mad machines sought to remake it in their image, you could do a lot worse than Helix Securities International.
CONNECTION ESTABLISHED
But, she reminded herself, as the Overwatch icon appeared on the screen, you could do a lot better as well.
CLEOPATRA?
She smiled, seeing her codename, before responding. STILL ALIVE. BARELY.
AND HSI?
She frowned. SUSPICIOUS. She paused, before typing, BUT I'M READY TO LEAVE.
There was a long wait before the response came. Long enough for Fareeha to look around. HSI might be picking up these transmissions right now. Troops could come bursting through this door at any moment and give her something mcuh worse than broken ribs and a burnt face. A face that she ran her finger down again. Telling herself that in time, the udjat could come back.
YOU SURE?
She frowned. SURER THAN EVER.
GOOD. BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND, IF YOU DO THIS, THERE'S NO COMING BACK. IT'S A LONG FIGHT.
BUT NOT ONE YOU'RE FIGHTING ALONE.
NO. NOT ALONE. SO. ARE YOU WITH US?
Fareeha "Pharah" Amari closed her eyes. Remembering Sadiq. Muhamad. Navaratham. Faheer. Those who were no longer in this world, for good or ill. Those, like her mother and father, who still were. Those, whose fates could be determined by what she and the world did over the next few months. By their actions. Their choices.
YES I AM.
And she'd made her choice now.
GOOD. WE'LL BE IN TOUCH.
Just like the choice she made to terminate the feed. A far larger choice, granted. But a choice all the same.
She put the pad back in the drawer and lay back on the bed. Watching the light of the moon through the curtains. Giving silent prayer and thanks to the gods of old, before finally closing her eyes.
Before finding peaceful slumber.
The End
A/N
So, that's that. Thanks to the people who reviewed. Or, technically, person...
Anyway, by way of shameless plugging, I have another Overwatch story on my "to write" list titled Alive. As its name suggests, it's a novelization of the animated short of the same name. However, my main writing focus right now is a Firefly story titled All the World's a Stage. Those who have followed me over the last 2-3 years are probably sick of hearing that, as there's been a number of stories like this that I've posted (as in, oneshots that ended up becoming multi-chapters), but I'm on the home stretch now. Also, that brings me into another issue that I might as well announce now.
So, there's this little thing called Coronavirus going around. Because of that, I'm on leave from work, and will be for at least 3 weeks. Practically speaking, that means that there's going to be far fewer oneshots from me in the immediate future as I'll be using less public transport, where I write the majority of oneshots that I do. There's a strong chance that this period will go on much longer than 3 weeks, but if there's a thing to take away from this, basically expect a slowdown of material from me going forward. At least in terms of the oneshot kind.
Anyway, stay healthy, stay safe.
