Chapter Text
Gabe stared. When the Shambali said they would like to give him a gift, he expected something small, like a gadget. Instead, the 'gift' was a humanoid of sorts, carefully encased in a coffin of foggy glass. The first thing he noticed was that it roughly was the size of him, although more streamline and most definitely not organic. Its 'skin' was a smooth, pearly white but the surface was broken up by veins of light that pulsed a soothing, repetitive blue. The elegant contours of the face -unnaturally doll-like in its perfection- were only broken up by a thin mouth and blank, white eyes that stared directly ahead.
Gabe lifted his dark eyes, brows drawn. “Ambassador, with respect, I can't take this.”
Zenyatta's permanently neutral expression didn't change, although his metal fingers tapped rhythmically against each other as he mulled over these words. “Why not?” Like most Shambali, he didn't have a mouth to speak with, but the words came out of the core of his scrawny Omnic body like a soothing song.
Gabe clenched his fists at his sides. “Overwatch does not partake in slavery-”
“There is no slavery in my culture, only the agreement that we must all work together in harmony,” Zenyatta corrected gently. “This Omnic is unprogrammed, it is your choice to do with it what you will. He can help you build your cities, or he can fly your ships with better reflexes than a human ever will. Or,” Zenyatta would have smiled if he could, “he can simply be a companion if you wish.”
Gabe felt something twist in his gut. No part of his extensive Overwatch training prepared him for this. It almost felt like he was being handed a newborn baby, but one that could do massive damage if in the wrong hands.
The Shambali were a rare, near-mythical Omnic clan, founded by war machines from a long ago past. The sentient founders of the clan had walked away from the Omnic Wars and had decided not to fight, summoning all fellow Omnics who felt the same to this tiny, rustic planet with two red suns. Over time, the Shambali reproduced by combining their vast pool of knowledge and creating ever more perfect, ever more advanced 'children' in factories that they designed themselves. They strove for what they called “self-perfection” -the ability to be as hyper-strong, intelligent and self-sustaining as possible without negatively impacting organic creatures or natural environments.
As a result, most Shambali nowadays were sleek and humanoid, much smaller than their war machine ancestors. They barely consumed any resources, could regenerate until it was physically impossible to do so, and were powered by a nuclear heart, much like what powers space ships. While famously peaceful, they were physically powerful like all Omnics were, capable of as much strength as metal alloys could provide them. Gabe was sure he could face Zenyatta and still lose, if only because human reflexes were nothing compared to a computerized brain and metal limbs.
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the a wave of Zenyatta's hand. “I understand how jarring this is to you, Captain,” the Omnic said pleasantly, as if discussing the color of the sky, “but your Overwatch as protected us for many years. Our thanks is overdue.” He gestured toward the still form in the glass case. “This is one of our newest children, fresh out of the factory. It would please us greatly if you took this part of us with you, so that we may help you in return.”
Gabe kept his face neutral, but internally cringed. “Then I thank you, Ambassador.”
Zenyatta nodded. “Peace be upon you, Captain.”
---*---*---*---*---*----
“Boss, you not comin'?”
“And what, be surrounded by drunk kids and screaming music? Not my thing.” Gave waved a dismissive hand in his direction.
Jesse hesitated, eyebrows shooting up toward his ridiculously old-fashioned hat. “You sure? It's been a long few months-”
Gabe forced himself to smile, although he was always rather bad at it and he was sure it looked strained. “I have to prepare the mission report anyways, go knock yourself out.”
Jesse gave him a skeptical but sympathetic nod. They both knew Gabe hated bureaucracy and paperwork with a burning passion, but Admiral Amari was a stern woman and wasn't likely to forgive tardiness. Throwing Gabe a lazy, two-fingered salute, the cowboy walked away with a distinct hop to his step, cheerfully throwing an arm around Genji and Lena when he caught up to them. Lena laughed at something he said, and the three headed off in the direction of Hanzo, who was waiting quietly -arms stubbornly crossed- in the distance.
From his position at the base of the landing bridge, Gabe watched the four go with amusement and felt a distant, familiar sense of relief. He was proud of Jesse. The boy had been a orphan and a delinquent when he was rounded up an off-planet Overwatch bust over a decade ago. Ana Amari, the commanding officer in charge of that mission and Gabriel's superior at the time, had noticed his exceptional skills with a blaster and had recommended him to the Academy on the grounds that he'd do more good for the fleet than in some moon base jail.
When Gabriel inherited Amari's ship after her promotion to Admiral, he was quick to select Jesse out of the large pool of Academy graduates for his own crew. He had seen something in Jesse that was quite like himself as a young man; lost, ashamed, looking for a purpose to keep on living. Joining Overwatch had provided Gabe with the discipline and the drive to fight for a cause, and he had hoped that it would do the same for Jesse. The boy had yet to prove him wrong; he was now proudly first officer of the ship, and Gabe distantly foresaw that Jesse would make a fine captain himself one day.
Recruitment for his own crew had been a complicated affair. Thankfully, some members of Ana's original crew simply carried over into Gabe's if they weren't old enough or willing to retire. The most notable of those older recruits was Torbjorn, the stout, elderly engineer who should have retired years ago but was too obsessed with ships and weapons to do so.
The first new recruit (after Jesse) was Dr. Angela Zeigler, top of Jesse's class and a medical prodigy from Switzerland. She became the chief medical officer and hired a musically-talented, baby-faced young man named Lucio as her head nurse. Dr. Mei Zhou, a tiny woman with a timid nature, was soon hired as the head of science. She was followed by Lena Oxton, a bubbly young woman who was widely regarded as the best pilot the Academy as produced in over three decades. Lena's co-helmsman was Genji Shimada, a witty young man from Japan with an exceptionally large knives collection and an insatiable appetite for pranks. Genji's older brother, Hanzo, became the head of security and brought a much-needed sense of gravity and responsibility to the crew, although his permanent sternness was no match for the “terrible trio” that was Lena, Jesse and Genji.
Admittedly, Gabe's crew was a bizarre lot (Ana's words, not his), but they got the job done. If his team had a reputation for being 'unruly', 'undisciplined' or 'eclectic' simply because they didn't fit the Overwatch standard 'cookie-cutter' ship crews, so be it. Gabe even took a bit of pride in that; he was far from a cookie-cutter captain, and his reputation for bending the rules to his liking earned him a great deal of respect (and enemies) throughout the fleet.
As it was, however, Gabe wasn't in the mood to brag about anything. They had pulled into Earth after months in deep space and he had granted everyone three weeks leave to do as they wish; crew members with families quickly disbanded to visit them, whereas the young and single often partied and relaxed at the nearest town.
Gabe rarely joined them. He disliked grand affairs and pleasantries, and he knew having their captain around would only make the younger members of his crew nervous. Besides, his companion of choice would always be his oldest and dearest partner, his ship.
Sighing, the man put his hands on his hips and looked up at the sleek, elegant design of SEP-1776, affectionately known as “Seventy-Six” by his crew. Silver all over except for parallel bands of red and blue on both arms, it wasn't the largest nor the newest ship in Overwatch's fleet, but it had been ground-breaking when it was built decades ago. It still registered as one of the fastest ships on the fleet and its impressive list of successful missions made it a well-known name amongst the interplanetary governments that funded Overwatch.
While it wasn't the only ship Gabe had served on in his long career (spanning from the moment he was of legal age to join space flight), it was the one that dominated the latter half of his life. Gabe had joined Seventy-Six's crew as a young helmsman, back when the ship was only a few years old and under the command of Captain Ana Amari. When he was promoted to First Officer and, later on, to Captain himself, the ship became his own to command and remained his most loyal, steadfast companion.
Gabe was bias, of course, but the ship AI was simply one of the best out there. Like all military AI, he -the AI had been programmed with a male voice and everyone just rolled with it- had been programmed to be polite, efficient and serious almost to a fault. However, as the years wore on, Seventy-Six began to show unique traits like an exceptionally patient nature around the young and inexperienced, a fierce sense of protectiveness for his crew, and a surprisingly sharp dry wit, probably to handle snarky captains like Ana and Gabe.
Gabe turned on his heel and headed back up the landing ramp. “How are you holding up, Seventy-Six?”
Seventy-Six answered promptly in the smooth, disembodied and curt voice he knew so well. “I am scheduled for a few days of maintenance at the dock, sir, but otherwise I am running at 95% capacity.”
Gabe allowed himself a rare smile. “We'll get that burst canon checked for you, I know Genji pushed you hard. I'll have another talk with him regarding respecting your max shooting speed.”
“Thank you, Captain.” A pause. “You're not headed to the helm.” A statement, not a question.
“Hng.” Gabe clasped his hands behind his back, keep his face neutral. “Is Angela onboard?”
Seventy-Six's silence dragged on for a split second too long. Gabe was very good at reading his pauses after all these years, and this one felt exasperated. “She is always onboard, sir.”
“Girl needs to do something else aside from disinfect the med bay,” Gabe grunted.
Seventy-Six's words were soft and deliberate. “She has nowhere else to go, Captain. I am content if she would like to live within me.”
Defending the young, as always, Gabe thought with amusement. “We can't protect her forever, boy scout. There's entire planets out there she hasn't explored because she's always dissecting some alien egg indoors. Getting out will do her some good.”
“You're one to talk, Captain,” the ship replied, amusement tingling the otherwise impeccably polite tone, “You don't leave me either.”
Got me there. Gabriel colored a bit. “My apartment at HQ is a waste of space, so goddamn bland and sterile,” he grunted, a little too quickly.
“I am surprised to hear you do not prefer it,” Seventy-Six confessed quietly, and Gabe paused in mid-step at his odd tone. “Captain Amari always left to see her daughter. I did not see her often when we were grounded.”
She had reasons to leave, Gabe filled in the gaps, but I do not. Was the ship genuinely lonely or was that a simple observation of the obvious? Either way, the words sounded wistful to Gabe's ears and he subconsciously reached out to drag his fingers along the closest wall. “Can't get rid of me that easily, you know.” He wasn't sure if the ship could 'feel' the touch, but the pleasant silence that followed seemed like approval enough.
The med bay's wide doors loomed ahead and Gabe switched back into 'gruff, stern Captain' mode. “Angela!” he boomed as the doors slid open for him with a hiss.
The blond doctor jumped and spun around from what was a hunched position over a operating table. Most medical personnel had taken their leave once patients had been evacuated to land hospitals, so the med bay was unnaturally empty, leaving her looking isolated and guilty. “C-Captain.”
“We landed hours ago,” Gabe pointed out, not bothering to hide his exasperation, “What are you still doing here?”
Years ago, when she was barely out of girlhood, Angela would have shriveled under his exasperated and disapproving tone, but she had been a part of Gabe's crew long enough to understand that this was how their gruff Captain showed affection. “Sir, are you kicking me out?” She was trying to hide a smile but failing.
“We're on EARTH,” Gabe stressed, frowning in response to her smile, “You can go outside, enjoy the sunshine, breathe in some fresh air.”
Angela rolled her eyes faintly. “With respect, sir, there is nothing out there is quite as fascinating as this.” She stepped aside and proudly displayed the Shambali android behind her.
It looked startlingly human for a fraction of a second, laying perfectly on the table as if just been rolled out of surgery. Then faint blue light pulsed through the 'cracks' of its skin and ruined the illusion, making it look like an eerie statue next to a living, breathing human. The light flowed through the android's body like an aurora, shifting fluidly from one end of its body to the other and back. Gabe was instantly mesmerized by it, although Angela continued to speak.
“It adjusts itself fantastically well to its surrounding environment. It immediately warmed up to room temperature once we removed it from its container,” she explained, excitement bubbling through her words, “Seventy-Six checked with our security and thermal cameras, he could barely pick it out of the room. It's well-camouflaged, that's for sure.”
Gabe sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Seventy-Six, have you been enabling her with her experiments again?”
“A little.” If it was possible for an AI to sound cheeky, Seventy-Six managed.
Gabe growled under his breath, although there was no bite to the sound. “We've talked about this. I don't want you -any of you- to poke at technology we don't fully understand. The Shambali didn't exactly hand me a manual for....this.” He made a hand gesture in the android's general direction. “I haven't even told Ana-”
Angela's head snapped to attention. “You're going to tell the Admiral?”
“Yes,” Gabe stressed, “It's alien technology that should be in an Overwatch lab somewhere-”
Angela let out some German words that sounded like both a protest and a curse, but Seventy-Six beat her to it. “Actually, Captain, Overwatch mandate #74-D7 says that any gift willingly provided during a diplomatic mission -as long as it is not a weapon of war nor a creature who cannot peacefully cohabit with a ship's crew- can be dealt with at the discretion of the commanding officer. The call is yours.”
Gabe bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He loved his ship dearly, but sometimes he hated that the AI had the entire Overwatch Code of Conduct programmed into him. It was like he liked one-upping Gabe at the worst of the times. Sassy little fucker. “Fine, but that doesn't tell me what a doctor is doing with an Omnic.”
Angela sniffed as if insulted. “Advanced Omnic circuitry isn't so different from a nervous system. Besides, this isn't just my project, Torb and Mei are helping me.”
Gabe's brow furrowed. “That whole combination worries me. What have you bribed them with?”
“Just the usual, a chance to discover something new,” Angela said with another frustratingly cheerful smile, “Shambali technology is fascinating, we'll probably never get another chance to study one close-up. Torb is dying to figure out how this thing works.” Her grin grew. “Besides, you were the one who gave us weeks off, we can choose to spend that time however we'd like.”
The captain eyed her warily. “Nerds,” he sighed affectionately, knowing he lost this fight. “Fine, keep your secrets, but don't blow a hole in your budget and don't let this interfere with your usual work. You're still our main doctor, Angela, and I need you ready for real problems.”
The woman nodded, her back straightening as she picked up the serious implication in those words. Her smile was gone now, and she was back in doctor mode. “Of course, sir.”
Pleased, Gabe turned to leave, but not before hearing Angela's voice calling out again – not to him, but to their ship. “Seventy-Six, a favor, please,” she said sweetly.
“Of course, Dr. Ziegler.”
“Send a long range transmission to Satya Vaswami, I believe she'll be returning from the Cygnus system soon. Let her know that I'm calling in that favor she owes me from the Academy and I'd love to catch up with her later this week. We can figure out details when she lands.”
“Doing so now.”
Gabe sent a questioning glance over his shoulder. Angela sighed at his suspicious look. “Don't worry, Captain, she was my roommate back in school. Nothing to concern yourself about.” She was already turning back to her work. “Don't keep Admiral Amari waiting.”