Professional Documents
Culture Documents
By: Xabiar
After the destruction of the dreadnought, tensions between XCOM and the
Council are higher than ever. Despite growing opposition and oversight, the
Commander doesn't hesitate to push humanity further into uncharted
territory, as well as dealing with an ancient global conspiracy, and a
growing number of countries looking to take advantage of an invasion that
is only just beginning.
Status: complete
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2017-04-07
Words: 578514
Chapters: 48
This story is based on XCOM: Enemy Within with the Long War mod
Dramatis Personae
One such person existed. Only known as the Commander, he'd been
imprisoned by the United Nations for nearly a decade for war crimes
committed in a crusade against terrorism. A brilliant, deadly and
ruthless leader, the Council knew that he dangerous, but also knew
he was their best chance to survive. His appointment wasn't without
conflict, but eventually the Council allowed the Commander to
assume control of the XCOM Project on the condition that he would
answer directly to the Council.
Realizing the Commander had been given too much autonomy, the
Council sent a representative to reestablish their authority and
ensure their will was known. A week after the attack, an alien
substance that had been recovered throughout the war was
thoroughly researched and dubbed as MELD by the science and
engineering divisions. The Commander immediately ordered then to
begin work on implementing it into their arsenal. Meanwhile, the
enigmatic organization known as EXALT prepares to move against
XCOM, though not before gathering allies.
Xabiar 2022 Note: Hello anyone who is coming from the new Hades
Contingency, I hope you enjoyed it. Before going into Atlas, I would
like to let you know that since the Revision came after Atlas, there
will be some elements, characters, and plotlines that either don't
exist, or were resolved/portrayed in different ways. Much like the
original Hades, the core Atlas has everything important, and will
remain so. I have made a few adjustments of some elements
already, but the majority won't be properly addressed until Atlas gets
a revision. Just want to say this prior to anyone reading, and
wondering why some things are different.
Prologue: The Alliance
Prologue: The Alliance
It was rather incredible, she mused while watching the world spin,
how much times had changed in such a relatively short span of time.
The War on Terror had been the only recent event that had nearly
given them the opening they needed to shatter the countries apart. It
was unfortunate that it hadn't worked out quite like she hoped, but
even their reach had limits.
Even so, she still wasn't quite sure if she could count that event as a
failed operation or if they simply hadn't invested enough resources to
begin with. The extent of their involvement had been planting agents
within some of the terror cells and maneuvering them into positions
of influence while encouraging the scattered cells to unite. They had
enough ranking agents in the Saudi government to make funding the
unification possible and were nearly untraceable thanks to EXALT's
shell companies and banks.
But after that initial investment… EXALT had quietly watched as the
terrorists united better that they could have possibly hoped. It was
unfortunate that truly organized fanatics were much rarer these days,
as they were by far the best to work with. They were easily
predictable, loyal, and genuinely believed they were fighting for
some higher power.
So that had been a loss for sure. But one they could recover from,
and they'd taken the opportunity to plant some more operatives
within the United Nations. EXALT had known about the Council and
the XCOM project for years, but quite honestly, never thought about
investing too many resources into controlling it. The possibility of an
alien invasion was a low one, especially with the state the world had
been in.
Saudia shut off the hologlobe and walked away towards the window
displaying the vast Antarctic wasteland. She inwardly sighed as she
noted a snow picking up speed and whipping around with the wind. A
storm. Great, just what she needed today.
She brushed her hair back and crossed her arms. Well, nothing she
could do about that. Returning to her rumination, there had been one
thing out of the whole war that had come out in their favor. Once the
war was over, the United Nations decided to hunt down the
Commander and his soldiers. A sentiment she could understand, and
had even considered sending some of her own to help them. But it
had turned out to be unneeded as the Commander had
unexpectedly surrendered.
But it turned out that even the United Nations had their limits, and
sent most of the soldiers to the remaining Middle Eastern countries
for "trial." Which had given EXALT the perfect opportunity to gain
some of the most skilled soldiers in the world. Extracting soldiers of
that caliber from prisons across the world had been one of the more
expensive operations in recent years, but she felt it was worth the
cost. It hadn't been hard to convince the men and woman
imprisoned of the failings of the United Nations after their hypocrisy
was exposed. EXALT hadn't been able to extract every soldier, sadly,
but in the end EXALT had gained twenty elite soldiers from the
Commander's ranks.
One of them now her husband.
Extracting the Commander himself had been out of the question. But
she had received numerous reports from multiple sources that he'd
been executed. Perhaps it was for the best; she wasn't sure she
would have been able to trust the man to not make an attempt to
remove her if he was dissatisfied with her leadership.
All that had led to almost a decade of relative peace where they'd
worked planting agents, influencing events and expanding their
reach further than ever. The continued globalism and
interconnectivity only made things easier to spread their influence.
Although that term felt incorrect. This was less of an invasion and
more of an incursion . An invasion would have involved an army
marching on Earth with the intent to conquer them. And while she
had no illusions as to that being the alien's ultimate goal, there
weren't here just to conquer. They had something else in mind, given
that they'd hadn't publically revealed themselves until the Hamburg
attack. She'd seen their technology, and it was far superior to their
own.
If the aliens really wanted to, they could win this war within weeks.
But instead they were holding back.
Uniting would ultimately solve nothing. The best that could happen is
that the aliens would be defeated. But she always looked at the
bigger picture and she knew that within years the infighting,
squabbles and wars that had plagued humanity since the beginning
of time would simply resurface and the cycle would repeat again.
There was only one solution. The world had to be broken, defeated
and scattered. The countries and superpowers of the world must
descend into anarchy before true unity could come. Humans valued
their independence too much for their own good and once they had
lost everything, then they would be ready to accept new leadership.
This had always been their goal, but there hadn't been a sufficient
event that could have brought this about. World War II had been the
closest, but their influence hadn't been sufficient to ensure the Axis
powers acquired and used nuclear weaponry.
There was only one force that stood in their way: XCOM.
What she knew for sure: XCOM had between twenty and thirty
soldiers, was far beyond them in terms of technology, and that their
Commander was surprisingly competent and secretive. What was
most interesting to her were reports of tension between this
Commander and the Council he reported to. She wouldn't have
thought the United Nations would have put someone in charge who
wouldn't adhere to their agenda.
But they had to defeat XCOM to bring about the fall of the world and
unfortunately, they wouldn't be able to do it alone. As much as she
hated to admit it, EXALT didn't have the time, resources or
technology to defeat XCOM and be able to deal with the aliens after,
not to mention dealing with the remaining governments.
Rather simplistic, when she thought of it that way. Put into practice, it
would be far more complex and fluid, but that was the ultimate goal.
They'd reached out to some of the alien doppelgangers EXALT had
identified and expressed interest in an alliance. After the destruction
of the dreadnaught, they'd received a message back asking for
details.
Of course, there was a reason these were their dress uniforms. They
were rarely worn into actual combat, EXALT soldiers had actual
protection in that case. But when greeting an alien race, dress
uniforms were warranted.
Saudia frowned as she took a closer look. "You didn't check your
eye." She noted, walking over. Ethan Vyandar, formerly Ethan
Delger, raised an eyebrow in mock concern.
She sighed and reached up to his eye and moved it until it rotated
the right way and it fit snug into eye socket. Ethan probably was
right, very few would notice, as the mechanical eye was almost
identical to the real thing. Well, she noticed and it would bother her
the rest of the day if she left it.
Stepping back, she appraised her handiwork. "You can see fine?"
She nodded and smiled. "Excellent. Now I can say you look good."
He inclined his head. "Thank you very much. You look very…" he
paused, searching for the word. " Regal ."
She smirked at that. It was clearly flattery, though she could see why
he chose that particular word. Though remembering how she looked
in the mirror, she had to agree that she didn't look that bad. Her own
dress uniform consisted of black pants and a long-sleeved close-
necked suit.
It complimented her black skin nicely and contrasted well with the
red sash that ran up to her right shoulder, displaying nothing but the
EXALT logo. On her right shoulder was a red, ceremonial one-
shoulder cape that fell to her waist. Highly impractical, but she had to
admit it was striking, as with all EXALT attire.
"I should hope so," Saudia answered. "I only wear this thing maybe
once a year."
It likely did, but she still preferred more practical attire. Well,
something to consider once the important work was done. "Do you
think I should have put my hair up?" She asked, twisting a strand of
raven hair in her finger.
"Nah," Ethan shook his head and walked over to the window
overlooking the empty Antarctic wasteland. "If we were going into
combat, certainly. But not during a peaceful visitation."
"Agreed." She walked up beside him and they looked out the window
together.
He looked at her as she stood by his side. "I hope I didn't interrupt
anything important," he said. "You looked rather deep in thought."
"A fitting time to do so," he agreed, then grew more serious. "Are you
ready?" He asked quietly, not looking back outside at the fresh snow.
"Of course," she answered immediately. "We've plotted out every
scenario imaginable. But I don't think the aliens will cause trouble."
"Not a first," she repeated. "But the Families all agreed that this was
the best course of action. If the aliens become hostile, we'll deal with
them."
"Who do you think they'll send?" Ethan asked, a curious lilt in his
voice. "I somehow doubt the leaders themselves will honor us with
their presence."
"They may look like humans," Saudia pointed out. "But there's
always something distinctly alien about the way they move and
speak. But you're right, the aliens have stepped up their tactics. I'll
have to consult with the Families to devise measures to reduce
infiltration of our own."
"I'd imagine she also wanted to pit her soldiers against XCOM,"
Ethan added, nodding. "She's probably ecstatic at the possibility of a
legitimate threat."
Saudia had also gotten that impression when talking to the head of
the Venator Family. It was an understandable, though dangerous
motivation, as her entire job involved overseeing the military arm of
EXALT. One which Saudia had regularly avoided using. There were
so many other ways to solve problems than just sending soldiers to
kill people, something Zara had a difficult time understanding.
"But they shouldn't have talked," Ethan stated firmly. "That is more
concerning than that they were taken in the first place." His jaw
tightened. "I've stated repeatedly that it's a mistake to recruit
untested civilians. Lo and behold, someone talked and screwed our
entire operation there."
"I was there when you gave that speech to her," Saudia remembered
as she moved in front of him and leaned into his chest. "You don't
need to repeat it."
Saudia shook her head. "No. You know the agreement. One family,
one continent. If we break up Asia, what would stop the rest of the
Families from splitting up every time there is a disagreement? I don't
know the solution, but dividing territory isn't the answer."
"If you say so." Ethan was clearly unconvinced, but she let it slide.
"Regardless, how did you convince him?"
"I'm impressed." Ethan rested his head on her shoulder. "It's almost
a shame no one will know this historic event."
"Flatterer," she chided, turning around and giving him a quick kiss on
the cheek. "You're biased."
He nodded. "Secured and with guards at the door. The aliens won't
even know he exists."
She pursed her lips. "Good. Though I'd prefer he wasn't here at all.
You explained to him why?"
"I did," Ethan confirmed. "He seemed oddly excited about the whole
thing."
"I can sympathize," Saudia said wearily. "But exciting isn't exactly
what I wanted to hear from him."
"Well, you can talk to him afterward," Ethan placated holding up his
hands. "I'm sure he'll be eager to talk-"
" Inform the Director we have detected the alien aircraft approaching
the designated coordinates." A voice answered.
"Aye," she agreed, striding over to the black leather gloves lying on
the table and fitted them on. "Let's hope this goes well."
"Well, I'm quite interested to meet our new alien allies," Ethan
countered lightly, then waved a hand toward the door. "After you,
Director."
Then both of them walked out the door to prepare for the arrival.
Times like these Saudia was grateful she'd taken the same training
regiments her soldiers went through. It certainly made the cold
easier to bear, even if the temperatures were sub-zero. At the very
least, she wouldn't have to spend nearly a week in these conditions
again. But a half-hour at most? Even the lowest soldier could handle
that.
The Elite of EXALT stood behind her, twelve of the best men and
woman serving in their military division. Each of them at the highest
physical form the human body could attain and with at least a dozen
operations completed. Once again Saudia was grateful that her
family had been blessed with unusual height. Standing at six-foot-
three, she was taller than most of the soldiers behind her. A trait that
helped emphasize her image and authority as Director.
As they stood stoically behind her, she tried recalling how diverse
this unit was. A mentally taxing task if not for the distinguishing
bandannas each of them wore concealing the lower half of their
faces.
While no longer utilized for such crude means, the use of bandannas
had roots deep in EXALT history. Bandannas had first been used in a
time when EXALT had acquired much of its wealth through more…
uncivilized means. Saudia personally didn't see the need to keep a
memento like that alive, though she didn't see a practical reason to
end the tradition. Besides, it allowed for some individuality within the
ranks.
The first EXALT bandannas had been one solid color with no
meaning behind it. Now from a glance, one could tell which continent
they were from, which family they belonged to and other decorations
of service. It allowed for some interesting combinations. She glanced
over at Ethan's blue bandanna with the Vyandar symbol
embroidered into the sides.
XCOM called them "UFO's," a clichéd term she felt was grossly
unprofessional, though a quick glance at the craft could explain what
inspired them to use that archaic word. The craft in front of her was
circular and symmetrical as far as she could tell. It wasn't that large
either, she suspected it was one of the scout variety.
They were almost half as tall as the craft itself not counting their
ornate headgear. They appeared to stand just over three meters.
The crimson armor they wore appeared to cover every vulnerability
she could see from a cursory glance. Their faces were obscured by
a pointed and spiked helmet that reminded her of the old tribal
masks of archaic African tribes.
Sure enough, a new figure stepped onto the white snow. Even
though she kept her face a mask of indifference, it was tempting to
curl her lip in disgust at the abomination before her. The
doppelganger, what XCOM had dubbed a "Thin Man," stood before
her. Though this one was different from the suited disproportionate
aliens they'd observed.
The alien before her was a near perfect recreation of what an actual
well-built human would look like. As tall as her, he was lean and fit,
not to mention impeccably dressed. It was similar to the dress
uniforms of EXALT in a way. Black pants, dress shoes and a suit with
a higher collar than normal. Still, the aliens hadn't been able to
entirely erase the discolored spots around his neck.
The face bore a welcoming, almost human smile, though the eyes
were concealed by spectacles. She cocked her head slightly as she
thought she saw thin blue lines scrolling on the right lens.
Information, perhaps? His wavy hair whipped in the wind, but it had
clearly been orderly a few minutes ago.
The thin man walked until he reached the front of his entourage,
hands folded together in front of him. He glanced briefly at the aliens
at his side, then kept walking forward and they fell into step behind
him. The alien kept walking until her was directly in front of her.
"I assume that the conditions in there are more hospitable," the alien
commented. "I would suggest we move in, Director. We have much
to discuss."
On that they agreed. "As you say," she responded and began
walking toward the entrance. The alien took a place beside her and
kept her pace, all the EXALT soldiers following close behind. The
alien soldiers didn't move to follow, instead going back into their
craft.
She raised an eyebrow. "They are trustworthy, each and every one
of them. Your concern is unneeded."
Fair enough. It wasn't as though she was going to keep what she
learned a secret. She'd humor the alien if he wished. "Very well,"
Saudia conceded, then turning to face her entourage, continued.
"Return to your posts, I'll call if needed."
They nodded and left without a word. They knew she could take care
of herself if threatened. The door to the Bastion opened and she and
the alien walked in together.
The Speaker wrinkled his nose. "If you would like to use such a…
crude… term, yes. Though that is a poor description."
"Then perhaps you could clarify," she suggested. "We are here to
learn from each other after all."
He paused in front of a painting and observed it. "I have read your
history. Your myths of the Greek and Roman gods were especially
intriguing. An apt comparison I suppose, your ancestors lived
believing that gods existed and utilized their power to wage war
against each other, hidden away in the sky. Ours walk among us and
dispense their wisdom freely."
He turned to look at her, his smooth face hard and serious. "I do not
believe you comprehend the honor you have received."
She managed to keep her face clear of what she was feeling. She
couldn't help but be slightly disappointed by the revelation, at least
from this particular alien, that at least some of the alien races
appeared to be religious fanatics serving the whims of a select few
"gods." These Elders were likely just highly intelligent beings who
knew how to breed fanaticism and loyalty.
"I confess," she finally admitted. "I wasn't quite sure our message
would reach you."
"We will do our best to assist against XCOM and the United
Nations," Saudia promised. "However-"
"You will need technology," the Speaker finished with a wry grin, not
looking at her. " Our technology."
"Never fear," the Speaker promised. "We will provide you with
whatever you desire. The Elders are generous with their allies and
are interested in seeing how the enlightened of humanity will utilize
them."
That was easy. Far too easy. There was no way the aliens would
place unlimited resources at their disposal without some kind of
catch. Unless the aliens actually were being truthful and hopelessly
naïve. And while she might believe the alien before her was capable
of such naivety, she was doubtful the so-called Elders were as well.
Well that was interesting. But she didn't see the need to quite reveal
everything quite yet. "If I may ask a question?"
"Why have you come?" Saudia asked simply, it was a question she
had wondered ever since the incursion started. She didn't entirely
expect a satisfactory or straight answer, but she was curious
nevertheless.
Saudia sighed. "I was more referring to the alliance between you and
the former Chancellor. Right before your… questionable decisions."
"Ah, yes," the Speaker's lip curled up. "That wasn't us."
Saudia blinked. That wasn't what she had expected. "Is that so? If
not you, then who?"
"XCOM," the Speaker stated. "A tactic that even the Elders were
surprised at. Not the plan itself, anyone could conceive of it, but that
it was executed so thoroughly."
She was skeptical. "Speaker," she began, shaking her head. "With
all due respect, I find that hard to believe. XCOM ultimately answers
to the United Nations and that kind of operation is one they'd never
approve of, even if their own lives were at stake."
"I find it hard to believe that the United Nations would appoint
someone so willing to go against them," Saudia countered,
unconvinced. "It would be… unlike them."
"Hold on to that if you wish," the Speaker shrugged dismissively. "But
this Commander is highly intelligent and dangerous. We do not use
those terms lightly."
"That is true," she agreed. "And one we will utilize to the best of our
ability."
They stood in silence for a few minutes. "I would not be incorrect in
assuming your influence is substantial," the alien said. "Your
organization would not be worth considering if that was the case, but
the Elders are curious as to the… extent of your reach."
A fair question, and one that the alien would not have been able to
answer on their own. Still, she was certainly not going to reveal
everything to the alien in front of her. "You might say that. EXALT has
many operatives stationed across the world. Our directives are
carried out through them."
"I see," the Speaker answered. "A wise move, though there must be
some who you control."
"Manipulate," she corrected. "And yes, there are some nations where
our operatives are highly placed."
"A methodical and intelligent approach," the alien commented, his lip
curling up in a mockery of a smile. "You understand patience, the
Elders chose well."
"We would be able to spare some," the Speaker agreed. "We would
need to coordinate more to find a village with enough specimens to
satisfy you." Saudia blinked. That hadn't exactly been what her
request was, she had assumed the aliens could spare some from
those they had gathered from earlier abductions. However, she
wouldn't turn down a small village of subjects.
They finally reached the holding cells. The lower floor currently
contained twenty-four cells that had formerly held test subjects.
Sadly, many of the subjects had died during the catalyst experiment,
but the results had been worth it. She motioned the Speaker over to
one of the cells containing a woman huddling in the corner, not
knowing she was being watched.
"This," Saudia answered proudly. "Is Subject Four, the result of years
of testing." She watched the woman through the one-way glass as
she rocked on the floor, clutching her head. Saudia picked up a
tablet that controlled the shock device implanted in her spine.
Provoking her should do the trick, her abilities were tightly
intertwined with her emotions at this point so the more unstable, the
better chance of a demonstration. She disliked inflicting unnecessary
pain on her prisoners, but this case was warranted.
The woman screamed as the device shocked her and writhed on the
floor. It wasn't a high voltage, so it had the effect of simply making
the woman pained and angry. She shakily rose to her feet and
looked at one of the windows. " What do you want?" She shouted,
fists clenched as she tried directing her bloodshot eyes at her
tormentors. " Aren't you happy with what you did to me ?"
" Stop!" The woman screamed, shouting at her in the right direction.
Her voice became layered as if multiple people were speaking at
once. "Please stop! Get out of my head!" With her final words, a
visible wave of purple energy emanated from her, pushing all the
objects around her away. Her eyes were now glowing purple orbs
that leaked a fine purple mist. Her face contorted in pain a few
seconds later and she fell to the ground clutching her head and
crying.
"She does," Saudia confirmed. "And we have three more just like
her."
"The Elders will be pleased," he said reverently. "I wish to see them."
"I will show you," Saudia promised, inclining her head. "Then we can
discuss the finer points of our alliance."
"I'm pleased to hear that," Saudia thanked, hiding her true thoughts.
She motioned down the hall of the other cells. "Right this way."
The Council's Directive
The Council's Directive
Scotland, Wilderness
Cerian Irelan took a deep breath and steadied the rifle. With the sun
behind him illuminating the target, the shot was clear. Not wasting
another moment, he fired. The shot rang out across the valley and
the dummy fell over, a new hole in its "head."
no one was ever satisfied. Anyone working with them just had to roll
with it.
His ears perked as a loud crack from a branch sounded behind him.
Drawing his pistol, he whirled around aiming at the direction of the
noise, then sighed when he saw the man calmly staring him down.
"I wouldn't sneak up like that," he warned, keeping his pistol at the
ready. "You're lucky I looked before shooting."
" Really," Patrick drawled. "Then how will you hit me?"
Cerian raised an eyebrow. "A blind man could hit you in that
uniform."
Cerian stepped back and waited. Liaison Rush never came without a
reason and also had an annoying habit of taking his time before
explaining himself. There were two possibilities he could see; either
Patrick was here to get something from him, or he was here to kill
him. Patrick walked around the dummy, taking his sweet time before
continuing. "I see you're keeping your skills up," he noted, pacing
around the dummy.
"Yes," Cerian agreed cautiously. "I spent nearly two decades
cultivating them, I certainly won't lose them now."
"So I've heard," he agreed, nodding. "And if the reports I've received
are any indication, you're improved considerably."
Patrick stopped pacing and looked at him, clasping his hands in front
of his body. "You don't waste time, I'd forgotten that. Very well, I'm
here on official business. From the Council."
"Then cut to the chase," Cerian demanded. "What do you want from
me?"
Patrick pursed his lips. "To utilize your skills. They have clearly not
diminished and we have reason to employ you again."
Cerian blinked in astonishment. He'd expected to be asked about his
contacts or project, not to be recruited . "Is that right?" He answered
slowly, not bothering to hide his disbelief. "Well, then I can give you
my answer now. No."
Cerian nodded. "It was. And I don't begrudge the UN for taking
advantage of it. But as a consequence, I don't owe the UN anything.
I've enjoyed my retirement, I don't see any reason to leave it."
"Not even if the world is at stake?" Patrick pressed, eyes boring into
his.
Cerian met his gaze easily. "I assume you mean the aliens? Yes,
perfectly fine. You seem to have things under control anyway."
"I'd ask that you not touch anything," Cerian warned as he opened
the door to his modest house. Being honest with himself, it was a
mess, but he didn't receive visitors often. As a result, the small
house was organized in a much different manner than normal.
Immediately to the left of the entrance was what had once been the
"living room." After several weeks of work, it'd been converted into
something of a workshop. Tools and parts were strewn across the
floor, though in his defense, he'd planned to continue working after
his shooting session and hadn't seen the need to put everything
away only to take it out again.
To the right was the kitchen/slaughterhouse, since here was where
he did all the cooking, along with skinning and gutting the animals he
hunted. It wasn't like there was another place to do it, not to mention
he usually didn't have to worry about guests. The bloodstained table
along the wall had other advantages as well. Some idiot planning to
rob him had once come in the middle of a skinning session. He'd
walked in very confidently, then quickly ran away when he saw
Cerian covered in blood, knife in hand.
Luckily the kitchen was one area he was sure to keep pristine as
much as possible. He despised unclean eating places. He motioned
Patrick to sit on a wooden chair by the table. Cerian set his rifle in
the corner for now, he'd put it back in the armory later. Patrick looked
over into the workshop.
"May I ask what that is?" He asked curiously, indicating the project
he'd been working on.
Cerian took a seat across from him. "The reports you got didn't
mention that? I'd think I warranted at least some competent spies."
"Not every spy is you," Patrick sighed. "And no, I do have some idea.
The one watching believes it has something to do with the aliens,
though since you don't have friends and don't talk to yourself, it isn't
confirmed."
"Really," Cerian stated with a raised eyebrow. "And this, ah, "spy"
actually respected my privacy and didn't come in when I wasn't
around?"
"Oh no, she did," Patrick amended quickly. "But she had no idea
what it was."
"I'll tell you what," Cerian leaned forward, resting his forearms on the
table. "You tell me what's going on and I'll tell you what I'm working
on if you want."
Patrick nodded. "Agreed."
"Alright," Cerian leaned back. "So tell me, one: How-no, why is the
Commander alive? And two: How the hell is he in charge of XCOM?"
Patrick sighed. "For your first question, he was never killed in the first
place. The Council faked his death in case he was needed one day.
As for your second, well, the Council placed him in charge."
"Probably not," Cerian admitted, his voice lowering. "So please tell
me; what the fuck possessed the UN to make such an idiotic move?"
"I don't know," Patrick admitted slowly. "I was brought in on this after
the decision had been made. But I'd imagine it was a combination of
fear and practicality."
"The aliens are much more widespread than the public is aware of,"
Patrick revealed, face tightening. "For reasons we don't know, they're
keeping their invasion rather low-key. Instead of armies conquering
countries, they stick to abducting small towns and citizens.
Thousands of people have been abducted across the world and
they've inserted agents that look just like us to infiltrate and destroy."
"Just how sure are you of this?" Cerian asked, leaning back.
Cerian held up his hand. "I'll admit, this is the most fascinating thing
I've heard in years. But I don't want you explaining anymore unless I
accept this job. If this Council is composed of superpowers and I fall
on one side or the other, there is a decent chance I'm going to end
up dead or imprisoned for choosing the opposite side. So before I
make a decision, I want to know exactly what you expect of me."
Cerian flipped through the file and rubbed his beard. "Interesting. For
a minute I thought you were going to ask me to kill him."
Patrick shook his head. "Impossible I'm afraid, even for you. The
Citadel was designed to be impenetrable. Only two ways in, both
under heavy observation. As far as we know, the Commander has
only left twice, both times unannounced."
"The Citadel?"
"Except he's not," Patrick shook his head. "At least none we're aware
of. He's conducting operations against other countries."
And the fact that Patrick was telling him this and not to a court gave
him the impression that the evidence to back these claims up wasn't
very much. "You don't have anything, do you?" He stated, a
humorless grin on his lips.
"Right so let's call this job what it is," Cerian stated bluntly. "A smear
campaign. You want me to find some credible evidence to dismiss
the Commander from his position. In that case, why not just fabricate
it?"
Cerian made a note of that. "So then, why are they backing him? I
find it hard to believe that they would overlook what he did."
"As much as I hate to admit it, XCOM has had much success under
his leadership," Patrick admitted. "Aside from that, some of them
believe he is the one who is needed in times like these.
Uncompromising, deadly and ruthless. The most disturbing part is
that I can see why they think so."
Cerian snorted. It was remarkable how that legend just wouldn't die.
"EXALT is a myth."
Patrick actually flushed a little. Good, even if this whole mess wasn't
his fault, at least he recognized the stupidity that got them here. "You
have a point. I can't really contest that."
Cerian was silent for a minute. "I'm going to be perfectly honest here.
I think the Commander was a war criminal who should have been
executed when he was caught. If given the chance, I would have
killed him myself."
He narrowed his eyes. "However, this seems less like a job about
the Commander actually breaking the rules and more like a personal
vendetta. You don't like him, these councilors don't like him, I don't
like him and we're all perfectly entitled to that. But by your own
admission, you have no proof . The Commander hasn't broken any
rules that you know of, and circumstantial evidence is not good
enough for me to risk my life on the assumption that he might be
doing something illegal."
"Do you really think the Commander has the best intentions for the
world in mind?" Patrick challenged. "He's just biding his time until he
has enough power. When he's ready he'll kill everyone who stands in
his way."
"Tell me why you wanted me," Cerian demanded, crossing his arms.
"The truth. You have your pick of operatives who are just as skilled
as me and probably wouldn't ask as many questions."
"I would," Patrick answered simply. "You might have held the role as
an assassin, but you certainly captured more than you killed. No
collateral damage in any of your assignments, you never broke any
regulations and always completed your mission to the letter. The
United Nations is flawed, everyone know this, but you focused on the
ideals of the organizing rather than all the disagreements you
personally had with it."
While all of that was true, he'd never really thought about it that way.
"It's kind of sad when just doing your job right makes you a principled
person," he commented wearily. "I never really thought of myself as
such, considering my line of work."
They were both silent for a few minutes. "I need an answer," Patrick
finally said. "Say yes and we can get to work. Say no and I'll leave
and you'll probably never see me again."
Cerian had to smile at the disclaimer at the end. Rapping his fingers
on the table as he thought, he wasn't quite sure what to do. There
was no clear-cut answer in this case. Honestly, he could easily make
a justification for either decision. But he wanted to make the right
one, not just choosing one side or another.
Compromise. That was it, both sides had to stand to lose something,
and he had an idea of how to accomplish that.
"Would you bet your life, and those of your partners on it?"
Cerian nodded. "Go ahead." Patrick got up and went outside while
he waited. A few minutes later he came back in and took his seat.
Cerian rolled his shoulders. "Excellent. Let's get to work. I'm curious
to meet this team."
True, the whole area was very ceremonial and decorated and he'd
spent a good amount of time admiring the architecture, shiny tiled
floors and ornate furnishings. Fitting for the most powerful
international organization in the world. He had partially accepted the
offer out of curiosity, as the Council had been a part of the United
Nations even he didn't know much about.
That might have bothered him had the Council interfered in NATO
operations, but as far as he was aware, they tended to keep to
themselves and only a few knew the organization existed. As a Major
General in NATO, he'd been fortunate to know a bit before receiving
the unusual summons.
It had been interesting at first, seeing the twelve councilors and their
entourages milling around the commons area he was in now,
conferring with aides and speaking to each other. But as time passed
he was growing more and more uncomfortable. It was becoming
quickly apparent that there was division and tension here, he'd seen
councilors pointedly ignore each other and had witnessed several
getting into arguments about oddly menial matters.
"The unfortunate truth here is that you are a victim of politics," the
Speaker stated bluntly. "A large number would prefer you not be here
at all, while others are frustrated that you were the one chosen." The
Speaker paused. "They view you as a… compromise… one not in
their favor."
"The one who put your name forward is on your side," the Speaker
answered neutrally. "However, she also didn't want anyone in the
first place. But in your current… position… the most support you will
find is either skepticism or indifference."
While this brutal honesty was refreshing, all it made him want to do
is leave this place and have them pick someone else to mad at.
Unfortunately, walking out on the Council would be career suicide,
along with possibly worse. "Thank you, I guess," he told the Speaker
wryly. "I don't suppose you have an opinion on me?"
"I certainly do," the Speaker answered, raising an eyebrow. "For the
position you have been… summoned… for, you are qualified and
from a practical standpoint, that is all that should be considered. As
for my personal opinion, I cannot share. My purpose is to be an…
objective… mediator, my opinions do not matter."
"Tamara will suffice," she advised. "I don't see a need to make this
more difficult than it already is."
She turned around and motioned him to follow her. "Walk with me.
We should talk."
About time, maybe he'd finally get some answers. They walked out
of the commons area into an equally ornate hallways with a red rug
on the ground. "I don't suppose you could tell me why I was asked
here?" He asked as they walked.
"In fact, I can," she answered easily. "You are aware of XCOM?"
Well. That was interesting, and not what he'd expected. "I'm not a
politician," he told her. "I'm not exactly the most qualified-"
Tamara raised a hand to cut him off. "Correct. You are not a
politician, which was why I put your name forward for the position.
You are aware of the rules the United Nations abides by, correct."
"Of course."
And again, there was that feeling that despite her recommendation,
she didn't want him here at all. It was interesting that she seemed to
disapprove of politicians, seeing as how she was technically one
herself. Perhaps she was like him, possibly former military forced
well outside her comfort zone. "I'm flattered, councilor," he answered.
"But if this reception has proven anything, it's that not many seem
entirely pleased to see me."
"I wouldn't concern yourself with them," Tamara dismissed, her voice
turning frosty. "Those fools wanted a puppet, someone to fulfill their
naïve and petty agenda. I have little tolerance for such fools and you
should give them as much consideration as they deserved."
She chuckled. "If you see things from my point of view, I would
certainly not oppose it. But no, despite what some think, we don't
want a puppet. You are intelligent enough to make decisions and
draw your own conclusions." She paused. "Which is why I would ask
that you keep an open mind when speaking to the man I'm bringing
you to."
Without waiting for a response, she opened the door and they
stepped into a finely decorated office. Bookshelves lined the walls
and a window gave a beautiful view outside. In front of them, sitting
at a desk, was a brown haired man. He looked around thirty or forty,
wearing a generally indifferent expression on his face.
"I imagine Tamara told you what you're here for," Jonathan asked,
standing up.
"Of course," Jonathan inclined his head. "Know that not all the
Council, myself included, wanted this. However, he was kept alive in
the event that we might need his expertise. Despite his crimes, he is
an undisputed tactician and commander, something the majority of
the Council thought worth preserving. And with growing evidence of
extraterrestrial life, some viewed him as the best chance to preserve
humanity."
Herman shook his head in disbelief. "With all due respect Councilor,
I can't imagine a scenario where that benefits anyone. Not only does
it violate multiple United Nations regulations, but the Commander
himself has publicly denounced us multiple times."
"You're telling this to the wrong person," Jonathan sighed. "I'm well
aware of the problems and saw them all coming. Sadly, Councilor
Vasilisa and her supporters are blind to this fact."
He was beginning to get a picture of the situation now. "Is that it? Or
is there more?"
Herman blinked. "If I recall, there were several fiascos. You are
referring to…?"
"The one where the German military secured the country," Jonathan
informed. "The blackouts we suspect were caused by the
Commander along with him baiting the aliens into attacking the
cities. There is also a chance he was behind the assassination of the
German cabinet."
"If that were true, you'd have already arrested him," Herman pointed
out. "What makes you think he was behind it?"
"That is where you come in," Jonathan explained nodding his head.
"The reason the Commander's been able to get away with so much
is that we failed to provide adequate oversight. We believed the staff
would report any violations, but the Commander is more…
charismatic… than we anticipated. We need you there to make sure
the Commander conducts this war in accordance with the laws and
standards of ethics the United Nations expects."
"A few hours," Jonathan answered. "I'll ensure someone shows you
the way."
Herman nodded and walked out the door, thoughts and conflicting
emotions running through his head.
"Less about the war," Herman corrected. "More about the apparent
power consolidation taking place within XCOM as well as suspected
ethics violations."
"'Power consolidation'?" she sniffed. "To Councilor Warnup, if his
subordinates do not abide by his every command, he automatically
assumes they are plotting against him."
"I feel his concern is warranted," Herman shook his head. "Putting a
convicted war criminal in charge of XCOM can only lead to bad
things."
"I disagree," Tamara stated flatly. "The Commander has done exactly
what we wanted him to. His sole purpose was to take command of
XCOM and defend Earth from the alien threat. And judging by the
results, I think he's succeeding."
"If the Commander had not intervened, that city would no longer
exist," Tamara pointed out. "Not to mention he successfully
dismantled the protest rings plaguing the country."
"Of course he didn't," Tamara stated smugly. "That doesn't fit into his
narrative. The truth of the matter is that the war is beginning to turn
in our favor, and I firmly believe that can be attributed to the
Commander."
He saw her lips curl into a smile at that. "You assume that just
because he killed our president, I should automatically be against
him," she paused and shrugged. "Perhaps I would be, had he been
wrong. But something people tend to forget is that the Commander
always provided evidence when he executed someone of
importance. True, I would have preferred he be executed the lawful
way, but I shed no tears that he was killed. So no need to get
offended on my behalf. As it stands, most Russians feel the same
way."
"You almost sound like you admire him," Herman stated, trying not to
sound disbelieving.
"You have to realize he might turn against you." Herman pointed out.
"A lie," she stated flatly. "The Commander has provided some
materials he's recovered. It's just not as much as the good councilor
would like."
"That I'm not sure," Tamara admitted, for the first time showing some
uncertainty. "Provided he is behind it, the only reasonable motive
would be to keep the resources out of China. A reasonable motive,
but I'm not sure it's the correct one."
"Then why did you put my name forward if you're so opposed to the
idea?" Herman demanded, pursing his lips.
"I do," Tamara stated. "And I stand by it. We can't afford to make the
Commander our enemy, especially as he's in charge of XCOM.
Watch for violations as per your directive, but for the good of the
Council and humanity, I would ask that your primary objective be
ensuring that we win this war."
Tamara was silent for a few moment. "I'd advise you use your best
judgment on that. Ask yourself if it's really worth jeopardizing
everything to have a clear conscience." She paused. "And if you
absolutely must report everything you see, I advise you do not
contact Councilor Warnup. Contact me instead."
"Incorrect," she said with a smile. "Warnup was just the one who
asked to speak to your first. He is the face of his side, as I am mine.
We are both at the same level in terms of rank, as all the councilors
are. He just likes to think himself the unofficial head of this Council.
You would be breaking no rules my reporting to me instead."
"And how will I know what I report will change anything?" Herman
demanded, waving an arm to the side. "You might simply ignore a
potentially dangerous violation since you clearly support him."
"I assure you, if the charge is serious and with evidence to back it
up, I will take the necessary action," Tamara promised, nodding
solemnly. "But Warnup will use even the smallest violation as
justification for removing the Commander."
"If it's within the law…" Herman began when Tamara interrupted.
"It's not that simple," she scowled. "Warnup seems to think that if he
orders the Commander to step down, he's just going to do it. That's
not going to happen and everyone not blinded by self-righteousness
knows it. We would lose XCOM for good and then the Earth. I'm
trying to prevent a catastrophe and you have the power ensure
everyone stays on good terms."
"Then good luck," she nodded toward him. "I hope to speak to you
soon."
She turned and left curtly, leaving him alone. He shook his head,
trying to clear it as much as possible. Quite honestly, he didn't have
a clue what to do. Tamara had clearly been planning her own speech
for some time, and he found it honestly rather convincing. But the
issue was that she clearly had an agenda as well, something he
couldn't forget.
He sighed. Well, he had plenty of time to think about this on the way
there. Might as well get a head start. On that thought, he began
walking toward the odd transport that would take him to the Citadel.
Alien Abduction: South Korea
Alien Abduction: South Korea
The armor fit him surprisingly well. Snug and solid, it afforded him a
surprising degree of flexibility. He hadn't had the opportunity to fully
test it out yet, but was fairly certain he would be able to perform as
well as in the 1st Airborne Brigade
Soran Kakusa was still a little shocked that he'd been sent at all to
XCOM. The organization had been widely discussed within the
Japanese military, especially after some of the air force had assisted
in the downing of the alien dreadnaught. The organization was of
particular interest to him and his friends, especially since the future
of Earth would likely lie in their hands.
Everything had happened fast after that. Within a few days, he'd
been shipped off to someplace called the Citadel, which he'd been
told was in America. He hadn't been the only one to arrive either, the
rest of the newly recruited soldiers riding with him were also from
different countries across the world.
But none of them were on this particular flight, the men and women
beside him were all veterans of this war.
He'd barely settled in when he'd been assigned to a squad with
instructions to investigate alien activity. He had no clue where they
were headed or what to expect beyond a fight. He knew what kinds
of aliens existed, thanks to a handbook XCOM had provided in
addition to their archives. It was going to be vastly different to
actually face them in an XCOM uniform.
Still, doing something like this without proper preparation was foreign
to him. Typically missions for him often consisted of a few days
warning and briefing before they even made preparations to move
out. He was somewhat surprised that no one had ever complained or
even discussed the lack of preparation, but no one seemed to care
that much.
"What time do you usually get the orders?" Soran asked, hoping that
was the correct order of words. The English language was one he
wasn't completely fluent in yet, though he expected he would be
within a few weeks given that it seemed to be the primary language
spoken within XCOM.
That would be an odd move. Soran doubted that the aliens would
move on China so soon after what had happened, the Chinese
military would be on extremely high alert, making any abduction
operations extremely risky at best. Japan, possible, but its proximity
to China also made it a dangerous target.
Hm. She was from South Korea, which suggested she'd been part of
the many special forces units operating there. Carmelita….given
what he'd learned about the country, that was an odd name for that
part of the world. Which implied that wasn't her real name. At first he
wondered if it was some unofficial rule for soldiers to "westernize"
their names upon entry.
He did admit that he was curious to see the SEAL in action. Creed
had been designated Squad Overseer, though the reason for which
hadn't been disclosed to the squad. The entire title of "Squad
Overseer" was… confusing to him. Soran was used to very clear
hierarchies and ranks. A private stayed a private until he advanced
or was demoted, titles and designations weren't handed out at
random.
Yet that seemed to be the case with this particular designation. From
what Marten had explained, it could be given to any soldier at the
Commander's discretion. It apparently was temporary as well;
previous squad overseers could operate together without incident
and it wasn't even considered a demotion either.
" It's less of a rank," Marten had explained. "More of a… let's say
temporary directorial position. The Squad Overseer is the undisputed
leader, but it's not a rank as you understand it."
"First time fighting aliens?" She asked. From her tone, she
suspected she was smiling even if the helmet hid it.
"Nervous?"
He shook his head. "No."
That answer didn't seem to be what she was expecting judging from
the way she sharply sat back up. It also attracted the attention of
Carmelita who turned her head towards him and held his gaze for a
few seconds. "You should be," she stated, he voice much softer and
melodic than he'd expected.
"Pray that's all we face," Wong muttered, mostly to himself. "I doubt
the aliens are bothering with such paltry forces anymore."
" We've received report of an entire town gone dark in South Korea,"
the Commander answered. Soran noted Carmelita tense up at that.
Unsurprising, given it was her homeland. "This is a larger town than
they've hit before. Possibly up to ten thousand have been taken."
" I suspect that the aliens want to make a statement after their loss,"
the Commander continued grimly. "I can think of several reasons
why this didn't elicit a quicker response. The most likely being the
aliens devoted more resources or advanced units to increase their
speed in subduing the town."
" Possible," the Commander agreed. "In any case, expect heavy
contact once you touch down. I would expect the usual; sectoids,
drones, thin men, mutons or possibly cyberdisks."
" They were the ones who contacted us," the Commander answered.
"They saved us an hour or two. So yes, they are aware and have
dispatched several teams of the 707 th to the town."
" Excellent. Find out what happened and execute any aliens you
encounter. If possible, secure the site before the South Korean
military arrives. I'd prefer they not acquire any alien tech."
" Allow them several of the corpses left, and only the corpses," the
Commander instructed. "Any alien technology should be secured by
our team. Make sure this is conveyed to the South Koreans. I'll begin
contacting the President immediately."
Huh. The rumors he'd heard about the Commander restricting the
recovery of alien tech appeared to be true. It made sense in a way,
no other country had begun using alien tech openly. He'd heard that
Germany was beginning to incorporate some, probably as a
consequence of an alliance with XCOM.
Israel supposedly was allied with them as well, though that was
speculation he'd heard within the ranks, not from anyone with any
official authority. He honestly hoped it was just a rumor. Israel with
alien technology was extremely disturbing. Reading up on history,
recent and ancient, he had no doubt that Israel would seek
retribution on the Middle East if they had the means.
Scratch that, it would open the door for any country to take
advantage. From his point of view, the United Nations was the only
thing keeping the more radical countries like Israel and North Korea
in line, not to mention the other superpowers like China and America.
He was extremely curious to find out if the rumors he'd heard about
tension between the United Nations and XCOM were true as well.
Given what he'd just heard, he wouldn't be surprised if that was the
case.
" This is Burning Sky to Spur Team," their pilot informed them as the
white lights in the skyranger flashed and turned a solid red. "We're
five minutes for the LZ. I'll maneuver you over the most populated
area. If anyone's still alive, they'll probably be there."
The soldiers looked between each other. "Ah, right," Eden answered,
letting out a low chuckle. "You've seen them before. I believe the
handbook refers to them as "Alien shock troopers" or something like
that. Hulking bipeds clad in green armor, very strong and dangerous.
We got tired of referring to them as the "Green aliens" and someone
called them mutons once," she shrugged. "The name stuck, and no
one had anything better. I suspect whoever writes those handbooks
will update in a week or so?"
"Just like that?" Soran questioned, frowning. "You actually use the
nicknames you come up with as official designations?"
The soldiers clearly hadn't thought much about that before as they
looked between each other. "Huh, guess not," Marten answered,
somewhat amused. "Although, I'm kind of surprised it took you this
long to figure out. You think the name thin man was invented by
some scientist in a lab?"
"At least some of them were," Soran noted. "I'm pretty sure none of
you came up with chryssalid. "
"Nope, all Vahlen's doing," Eden answered. "I rather like it."
Carmelita shot her a stern look. "There is nothing to like about those
creatures."
Either way, that species should have been eradicated long ago. No
good could come from using them, even as weapons.
At this height? Please, he'd jumped off cliffs higher than this. Moving
swiftly, he grasped the rope and leapt off, descending into the silent
town.
Soran hit the ground hard, though his legs absorbed the initial impact
while the armor absorbed the rest. He grinned, he was liking this
armor more and more. A lot more than what he normally wore.
Though to be fair, what he'd wore was to emphasize agility and
quickness and not much else. Assassination and stealth, those were
key. If he ever got into a firefight, something had gone very wrong.
The rest of the squad landed behind him, though not nearly as
gracefully.
Soran threw a sidelong glance at him, which was probably lost from
the helmet. "I completed higher jumps in training . This was trivial."
"Fair enough," Creed muttered. "But if you break your leg I'm pinning
it all on you."
"Fine by me," Soran agreed as the rest of them dropped behind and
beside them.
With everyone on the ground, Soran looked around the area for the
first time. They'd landed in the middle of a street, run down
apartments and houses on each side. The road was cracked, broken
and tore up. All inexcusable driving conditions in most civilized
countries, though Soran guessed this was normal here.
Old, abandoned cars sat empty alongside the road. Soran did a
quick look and didn't recognize a car newer than 2003, an indication
of this town's economic state. He walked over and took a closer look
at the buildings. Mold, rot and decay had set in and the buildings
were slowly, but surely falling apart. It wouldn't take much to reduce
this place to dust.
He pursed his lips as he raised his weapon, ready for any aliens
heading his way. He'd heard about the conditions some of the South
Koreans lived in, but had never seen firsthand. The shadow wars
between the countries didn't come without a cost and the citizens of
South Korea were paying dearly for the mostly symbolic victories
against the tyrannical state.
He apparently wasn't the only one with that thought. "People have it
tough here, it seems," Cai noted as Carmelita readied her laser
shotgun.
" Working," came the voice of Central Officer Bradford, a man that
had struck Soran as a rather by-the-book soldier. Reliable, but
lacked creativity. Excellent for administrative purposes, but useless
in nearly everything else. But the man seemed competent at his job
as long as he stuck to it.
"Onscreen," Creed asked and the small map of the area in the top
left corner of his HUD was replaced with the map displaying the heat
signatures. They appeared a short distance ahead, a good number
of the signatures appeared clustered in one of the buildings. It
seemed roughly about a forth of the force detected.
"We could blow the building," Carmelita suggested. "I can't be the
only one who noticed them clustered."
Soran was surprised that was the first solution suggested. "They
might be civilians," he pointed out instantly. "We need to be sure
before blowing it up."
Carmelita snorted. "You're new, so I'll tell you what's happened," she
waved her hand around the abandoned town. "No one is here.
Everyone is gone. Everyone except the aliens."
"Soran has a point," Eden pointed out, walking up beside him. "We
should at least make sure before reducing a building to ash."
He listened.
" Copy." He looked over to see Creed and the rest of the soldiers on
the ground, hiding behind abandoned cars and apartment walls.
"Wong, Rayna, level this building. Kakusa, Carmelita, be ready for
anything."
" Will do," Cai pulled the rocket launcher from behind his back and
aimed at the base of the building. "Ladies first."
" How sweet," Eden replied lightly as she pulled several frag
grenades from her belt and tossed them into the building in quick
succession. "Frags out!"
" Firing rocket," Cai stated and a few seconds later a massive
explosion erupted from the building which crumbled to the ground
with a thunderous crash.
" Here they come!" Carmelita shouted as she began firing behind the
building. Soran looked beyond the smoke to see six of the mutons
converging on their position. Just as large and intimidating as he
remembered. Their normally pristine green armor was caked with dirt
and mud.
The aliens took positions inside more abandoned buildings and cars.
Within seconds the battlefield was filled with green bolts of plasma
and red lasers lighting up the night. Soran aimed at one of the
mutons hiding behind a car. Instead of shooting at the moving alien,
he shot the stationary car instead.
The alien reacted exactly as he expected and began bolting for new
cover once he saw what Soran intended to do. "Get the retreating
one!" he called as the alien raced away. Luckily Eden noticed and
her laser beam cut through the alien armor, forcing it to the ground
where it crawled away, leaving a trail of yellow blood.
The rest of the squad's cover fared little better. Plasma appeared to
be doing more damage to the buildings than the lasers and if they
kept up the assault, more buildings were going to collapse.
Carmelita dashed around the car with speed the surprised Soran. He
hadn't suspected she would be as fast as him. The muton hadn't
expected it either and clumsily attempted to turn only to receive the
full force of her laser shotgun tearing through his armor and reducing
his innards to liquid. Not quite dead and in a pool of blood, the muton
attempted to crawl back as Carmelita stood over him.
Holstering her weapon, she pulled out one of the knives she had
strapped to her chest and taking a reverse grip, knelt down and
stabbed the muton in the eye. But not in one quick motion, very
slowly and deliberately she sank the blade, ensuring the alien be in
as much pain as possible before death. When the alien finally
stopped thrashing and roaring, she stood and strode back over.
Soran shook his head and leapt off the roof. Once on the ground, he
began walking to where the squad was regrouping. Carmelita was
cleaning the yellow blood off her blade and once done, slid it back
into its sheath.
She simply looked up at him, the helmet blocking any insight into her
mind. Her voice was just as emotionless. "They deserved it," she
answered, as if that explained everything. "Each of them deserve far
worse."
Soran shook his head. "More are out there. He went to get
reinforcements."
"Let's go!" Creed ordered and they began running towards the
gunfire.
To their credit, the South Koreans were putting up a good fight.
But against four mutons and three sectoids, not even the best of the
707th could last forever. At least three human corpses lay on the
ground, their bodies torn open from plasma bolts.
They'd managed to get one of the mutons somehow, the body with a
bullet hole through the eye indicated the cause of death. A lucky shot
most likely. Bullets washed off the alien armor like water, barely
making dents in the alloy. Even the shots that hit the heads of the
mutons were doing barely more than irritating it. Conventional
weaponry simply was ineffective against alien tech.
Unfortunately for them, the squad stormed onto the sectoids flank
and were quickly shot up by Carmelita in quick succession. The
mutons heard the commotion and quickly scrambled to cover, which
they had eschewed when facing the South Korean operatives. The
burning lasers from the rifles instantly killed one and left smoldering
gashes weeping with yellow blood on the rest.
Marten and Creed fired two scalding beams into the back of one
muton and it collapsed to the ground, a sizzling hole in its chest. The
remaining muton was targeted by Carmelita who fired two quick
laser blasts from her shotgun, both at the knees. The lasers tore
through the weakened armor and flesh.
The legless alien fell to the ground, bleeding from a dozen small
wounds as he tried in vain to crawl away from the woman
approaching whose armor was stained with the blood of his
comrades, of whatever the aliens referred to them as. Carmelita
showed the same amount of compassion and empathy as she had to
the last one.
Without nearly as much ceremony, she pulled out her knife and
calmly slit the throat of the alien and stood back up and let it choke
on it's own blood. An agonizing death, even if it could happen
quickly. She apparently put that out of her mind as soon as she
finished because she immediately began shouting out to the South
Korean operatives who cautiously approached her in their own
language.
She took off her helmet and Soran was once again surprised with
what he saw. Cropped black hair framed a round brown-skinned
face. She definitely retained Asian characteristics and also had a
light scar on her cheek. Definitely a face most men would consider
attractive, but definitely not the face of the cold-blooded killer he'd
seen today.
Creed thought for a moment. "Tell them the alien tech is dangerous
and should only be handled by our people. Then tell them to have
their weapons ready. I don't think that was the reinforcements that
muton ran back for."
Carmelita nodded. "I'll do that."
Creed motioned them forward, into the heart of the town. The XCOM
squad took point while the South Korean operatives stayed closely
behind. Soran was starting to wonder if they'd killed the muton after
all. No. He remembered that the muton running away had dirty and
soiled armor. The group they'd just fought had been the normal
pristine green.
Everyone went silent and then Soran heard it; the faint sound of
what could be mistaken for a miniature engine. Bradford had said no
electronic signatures were detected, so either he was wrong… or…
Driven only by rage and pain, the aliens were quick, fast and
focused. But they were also easily tricked and were able to be
pushed into traps set easily by an experienced XCOM squad. Within
a few minute they'd pushed and tricked the floaters into flying into
laser after deadly laser. The unarmored aliens provided virtually no
resistance as the laser cut a clean line through them.
The corpses littering the ground, the last muton finally charged out,
roaring. In pain or terror, Soran didn't know and at the moment, didn't
care. It fired off a few bolts from the plasma rifle it wielded, but it was
thoroughly and completely outmatched. Throughout the rain of lasers
and bullets, Soran didn't see who actually claimed the final kill, only
that it was not him.
"I thank you," Soran answered, looking around the abandoned town.
"Though I wish we could have saved the people here."
"So do I," Cai agreed, nodding. "But until then we'll just keep doing
the same thing we've been doing since they made the mistake of
coming to our world." His tone turned cold. "And once we drive them
off, we've follow them and hunt them to extinction."
With that he turned and walked away, leaving Soran more concerned
than ever before.
After-Action Report
Personnel:
Spur 1 (Squad Overseer) : Specialist Anius Creed
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 7
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 8
Status: Active
Kills: 4
Status: Active
Kills: 0
With a hiss the ramp lowered and Herman walked out into what was
apparently the hanger. It was surprisingly empty, no fuel barrels or
many vehicles. Looking over to the corner he saw another skyranger
parked in addition to the one in front of him. Hm. He wondered how
many XCOM had. Looking up at the cavern walls he raised his
eyebrows in surprise.
The Citadel… that alone told him he wasn't dealing with the typical
military commander. Nearly all military personnel stuck with basic,
generic names like "Alpha," "Theta," and so on. There were a variety
of reasons for that, but calling an actual military base something out
of a novel or movie wasn't exactly common and typically
discouraged.
"That not happen often?" Herman asked, shifting to face him better.
The man waved the hand not holding his helmet dismissively. "Nah,
but enough to make me somewhat apprehensive." He extended a
hand. "Jason Olgard, call sign 'Big Sky.'"
Might as well see what he could get. It never hurt to speak with
people who questioned your motives, in fact, it was an excellent
opportunity to change their minds. And he had the sneaking
suspicion that he was going to be doing a lot of that around here.
"You have doubts?"
"Let's just say I'm worried," Jason replied slowly, his face tightening
to restrain emotion. "Things always seems to… what's the word…
deteriorate when the UN tries to get involved."
He'd probably not react well to it. Direct and straightforward, that was
what dossier had said would be most likely to earn his respect. Best
be polite at first and see where it got him.
"At the moment," Jason looked up. "No. I'm not the one to give you
directions. Your escort should be coming any second now."
"Yes," Jason nodded, shifting his helmet under his arm. "But we've
got a squad coming back from a mission. We're more focused on
that."
Ah, that made sense. "I understand," Herman nodded. "I'll wait as
long as needed."
"I'll stay until he comes," Jason said, flipping his helmet in his hands.
"Wouldn't want to leave you alone here."
"Both."
"For the skyrangers, just three," Jason replied indicating the aircraft
behind him. "Tristen and Riley, "Fallen Sky" and "Burning Sky"
respectively. Then me, of course. We just got some new pilots and
Ravens so I don't know all the names, but we have six in total,
though the Commander is looking to expand further."
"A rather small air force," Herman commented. "I'd think that you'd
need more."
About time. Herman turned around and his eyes widened in surprise.
"General Van Doorn?" He exclaimed in surprise, certain his eyes
weren't playing tricks as the bald and cheerful man walked up in
black military fatigues with the XCOM logo emblazoned on the
shoulders.
"A pleasure to see you again, Herman," Van Doorn answered happily
as they grasped forearms as had been their custom and pulled into a
quick embrace. Stepping back, Van Doorn continued. "You don't
know how relieved I was when I heard you would be the one
coming."
"Long story," Van Doorn answered with a smile. "Suffice it to say that
I ran into a situation where XCOM had to come and extract me. After
a series of interesting events, I decided to stay on and help here . "
He motioned to the door. "Come on, we can walk and talk at the
same time."
Herman walked up to his side and they began walking out of the
hanger. He shook his head in disbelief. "I admit, I'm surprised you
left NATO. And that no one told us."
"Yes," Van Doorn admitted wryly. "The Council wasn't entirely happy
with my decision, but this is where I belong. XCOM is our best
chance against the aliens, whether the Council will admit it or not."
They walked in silence for a few seconds. "I suppose you know what
I should expect," Herman finally said. "Good or bad?"
Van Doorn pursed his lips. "The Commander is… well, let's say he's
not in favor of the Council taking a greater role in XCOM. I've
managed to make him a little more open to you, so he probably
won't be as… hostile. But don't expect complete cooperation right off
the bat."
Herman sighed. "I expected as much. But you know why I'm here, so
is there anything I will find."
"Certainly," Van Doorn agreed, surprising him. "But you and I both
know that no military organization is going to be completely clean. I
suppose it's up to you to decide what you believe is worth reporting.
You have a job and I understand that. There will be no opposition for
me."
Van Doorn paused as the turned a corner. "That will honestly depend
on how you conduct yourself. Be willing to work with us and you'll
gain more support. Dr. Shen isn't opposed to you and neither am I,
clearly. But everyone else is suspicious at least."
"Is that for show or does he actually mean it?" Herman questioned.
Often times stuff like that tended to be more… symbolic than actually
looking for feedback.
"I believe he does," Van Doorn answered carefully. "That being said,
he is very much under the impression that his way is always the
correct one. He has counter-arguments for most points brought up
against him and seems to have used them enough that it's almost
rehearsed. Not to mention that his views generally line up strongly
with the majority of our Internal Council."
Hm. The more they talked, the more he got the impression that Van
Doorn didn't know the true identity of the Commander. By this point it
should have been brought up at least once, unless he assumed the
Council told him. There was a way to find out; simply asking would
do the trick. But if Van Doorn didn't know, that would be a major
misstep and cause a whole host of problems. Best to talk to the
Commander first unless Van Doorn brought it up.
Van Doorn chuckled. "So I believed as well. Turns out it was just a
cover, or so I'm told. But she's perfectly alive and as brilliant as ever.
A bit unsettling though."
Van Doorn had left to bring the representative to meet him. Well, he
couldn't put this off forever. Still, he wouldn't let this ruin an excellent
mission. The aliens had been defeated, no casualties and he'd
convinced the South Korean president to let XCOM secure the area
so "More wouldn't be hurt." It couldn't have hurt that the special
forces soldiers sent in had been rescued by XCOM and had
witnessed a lethal demonstration of uncontained alien technology. A
shame that the population had been abducted, but they sadly
couldn't have done anything to prevent that.
Not that he would be particularly sad about that, but he was more
concerned that would prompt North Korea to end the mostly one-
sided war decisively. If South Korea was emboldened by their new
advantage, a more public attack could allow North Korea to
successfully convince China to back them as they put down the
rebellious country.
And that was the last thing he needed or wanted.
These constant rivalries and tensions between countries all over the
world were becoming more worrisome the longer this war lasted. It
was only a matter of time before some idiot country got their hands
on alien tech and used it to attack whoever they considered their
enemy. No matter how hard he tried, it would happen one day.
But that was a topic for later. Right now he had issues closer to
home to deal with.
That was the best-case scenario, and those generally didn't happen
enough for him to be reliant on them.
"I know," he answered the General. "I suppose I should welcome you
to the Citadel."
They waited a few seconds after Van Doorn left and the door closed
before either of them made a move. "I suppose I've arrived at a bad
time," Herman finally said. "I'd rather not interrupt an on-going
operation."
"Quite honestly, there would never be a 'good' time for you to arrive,"
the Commander answered, walking around the table and handed
him a tablet. "But in this case, it's no disruption. Our operation was
successful and the squad is heading back now. The mission details
are here."
Herman took the tablet and read for a few minutes. "Nearly ten
thousand abducted. I'm not sure that could be considered a
success."
The Commander pursed his lips. "I agree. So, what has the Council
told you about me? I'd also appreciate knowing their reasons for why
they felt it was necessary to interfere in my operation."
"What did they tell me…?" Herman mused, then looked directly at
him. "Your identity for one, Commander ."
"That being said, that was made without my input and I can do little
about it. You don't have to fear me using your past as a weapon or
excuse against you. We have a much greater enemy and I'm willing
to… overlook… your crimes for the duration of this war."
Hm. Well, that was interesting. Though he didn't fail to notice that his
promise only lasted for 'The duration of this war.' That might have to
do. "At least you're honest," the Commander answered, inclined his
head. "I can work with that."
"My point is that I'm going to keep trying to make alliances with
countries outside the Council," the Commander said firmly. "So if
that's going to be a problem, the Council might as well be prepared."
The Commander sighed. "Do you really think it's possible to run a
war without collateral damage? That is what the Council is
concerned about the most, right?"
"Of course collateral damage is unavoidable," Herman insisted,
sighing. "But every effort should be made to minimize it."
The Commander shook his head. "It should be minimized, but that is
not a priority, nor should it be. People die in war, it's unavoidable.
Ending it as quickly and efficiently as possible is the ultimate goal,
and if innocent people die, that's something I'm willing to live with."
"No, you don't," the Commander retorted bluntly. "And most of the
entire world doesn't either. I'm well aware of my reputation, believe
me, and I'm content with it. But the truth is that the majority of the
world doesn't understand war or what it takes win one. You can't fight
with constraints and rules if you want to achieve victory."
He sighed. "You are a soldier, so you might have a better idea, but
even you probably view me as a monster, no? That's not an issue
with me, but I do what is necessary, regardless of whether it is right
or not. Understand that about me, I'm not going to risk the survival of
the human race over a few petty UN regulations."
Herman held back a few seconds after that speech before speaking.
"Your point is made, Commander."
"I'm glad," the Commander answered, his tone growing more neutral
again. "And like it or not, you are a greater potential danger to
humanity than the aliens. You have the power to bring down me, or
at least inconvenience me severely. I normally deal with risks like
that decisively, but let me be clear here; the only reason I'm not
considering you an enemy spy is because Van Doorn trusts you and
believes you are reasonable."
"You'll be notified when our next operation is," the Commander told
him, going over to his desk. "That should give you an idea of how we
conduct our missions."
"Please do," Herman agreed, inclining his head. "In the meantime,
I'd like to walk around and speak to your staff."
Interesting.
It appeared Van Doorn had been at least partially correct about the
man, which was both good and bad. Good in that he seemed a
reasonable and level-headed person, and that he didn't seem to be a
complete tool of the Council. Which was honestly surprising, he'd
have thought they'd take this opportunity to send someone devoted
to bringing him down and while he had no doubt that Herman would
fulfill his duty if he discovered something, that wasn't his primary
goal.
He'd have to question him more about the state of the Council. They
were either being extremely reasonable, or there were greater
disagreements than he'd believed. He knew the names of the
Councilors and where they stood, but given recent events, loyalties
may have shifted and they needed to be updated.
The concerning thing was that Herman was going to do his job and
didn't seem prone to intimidation. Which he could respect because at
least he didn't hide his intention. At the same time, that made it that
more crucial that certain things remain under wraps, because if he
caught onto something, he likely wouldn't rest until he figured it out.
Soran carefully put his laser weapon back into his locker. Satisfied
everything was in order, he stepped back and shut the door until he
heard a click. He liked how organized everything was here, there
was hardly any clutter or overly cramped or open spaces. The other
soldiers from his squad were putting away their gear as well and
some of the other soldiers were watching or walking over.
"What was it this time?" A woman with chestnut hair and a British
accent asked, walking over to Creed.
She frowned at him and narrowed her striking brown eyes. "Who
are-Ah, one of the new ones, yes?"
Hm.
"To answer your question, no," Creed said, turning back to them.
"Unless I'm forgetting something, Patricia."
Patricia shook her head. "No, we've never stopped one. Came close
a few times, but we're always too late."
"Why?" Soran asked, leaning against the wall. "Is it always not
detected until after?"
"Essentially," Patricia agreed grimly. "We have no way of predicting
where they will strike. Thus, our response is always reactionary."
Interesting. "Then you haven't been able to get into how their
communication network?"
"Not yet," Creed admitted. "Though that will probably be one of the
next projects the research teams tackle."
Creed frowned and glanced over at her. "What did they discover?"
"Don't' know," she shrugged. "But I heard the word "meld" mentioned
a few times. No idea what that is. I'll ask Vahlen when I see her
later."
"When will that be?" Creed asked, an amused look on his face.
"Later today," she answered with a wave of her hand. Creed looked
surprised.
"Who?"
"No, why now ?" Creed repeated, legitimate confusion on his face. "If
they wanted that they would have had someone from the beginning.
This had to have been prompted by something."
"They better have a reason beyond that," Creed stated, his tone
turning dark. "I'm tired of hearing that being turned into something
negative ."
Soran waited a few seconds, looking between them. "I suppose you
aren't fans of the UN?"
"I'm not a fan of idiocy," Patricia added with a nod. "And I find both of
those tend to fit the UN quite regularly."
Soran struggled to keep his face blank. Such blatant disrespect for
the organization they ultimately answered too was… well,
extraordinary. Sure, the UN might not be perfect but it was better
than anarchy, which is what would probably happen if it didn't exist.
Even if it served as a deterrent and nothing else, an ineffective
organization was better than warring countries.
Aside from that, if his superiors ever heard talk like this about them,
there was no question they'd be punished severely. The fact that the
Commander hadn't cracked down on this kind of talk either meant he
didn't care, didn't know, or agreed . In that case, it wasn't hard to
imagine the UN sending someone to oversee things.
Creed shrugged. "I'm sure the Commander will handle it. We don't
know what goes on between him and the Council. This could all be
planned."
Patricia snorted. "I'd love to see his face when he reads the
contingencies." Creed chuckled at that.
"Do you know what they do with the people they capture?" He
asked, moving his hand in a circle. "From the abductions, I mean."
"Good luck with that," Creed told her solemnly. "Sparring at the usual
time?"
"Go with yes," Patricia nodded. "I'll let you know if it changes," she
looked at Soran. "Nice to meet you, I'm sure I'll see you around."
"You as well, Patricia." He nodded and she left. Creed walked away
to finish putting his stuff in his locker. Well, it seemed he had some
reading to do. These contingencies would probably be a good place
to start.
Scotland, Wilderness
Cerian appraised the five individuals before him. Three men and two
women. Three field agents, one technical specialist and one medical
specialist. A much larger crew than he'd ever used before. But from
their dossiers, they were all accomplished in their fields and most
importantly, seemed reliable and discrete.
Sadly, he'd had to move his projects into a different location and
cease working on them entirely. He couldn't do two things like this at
once and his job took priority. Maybe he'd let Mary, the tech
specialist take a look at it. The African-American woman had noticed
it earlier and seemed interested to begin with. Something to
remember.
Patrick was also here, and probably would be until things got
underway. Everyone was here now, so no point delaying. He cleared
his throat. "Welcome, all of you," He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm
Cerian and I'll be overseeing this operation." He tapped the file in his
hand. "All of you seem competent, so I'll just get right into it."
He clasped his hands together. "I assume each of you have heard of
XCOM?" Everyone nodded in affirmation.
"The people who downed the dreadnaught, right?" Baston, one of
the field operatives asked.
He pointed at one who had his hand raised. Darril, their medical
specialist. "Yes, Darril?"
"Because it's very secret and composed of all the countries who
want their own private UN," Cerian answered wryly and got a
chuckle out of some of them. "It's a club." He saw Patrick frown and
smiled. "Ask Patrick afterwards if you want more details, but the
Council is not of interest to us."
"Very little," Cerian admitted cheerfully. "A challenge for sure, but I'm
sure all of you are up to it. Frankly, this wouldn't be an issue if
anyone else was in charge of XCOM." He looked at Patrick who
nodded, growing grimmer. Patrick had wanted to keep the
Commander's identity a secret, but had been flatly overruled by him.
This case already lacked evidence and he didn't want to give his
agents any cause to think this was anything other than an official
mission.
Furthermore, he found everyone tended to work much better when
information was shared. "Now I'm assuming all of you know
everything is classified, but it bears repeating here," He paused.
"The Commander is alive and is in charge of XCOM."
They all looked confused for a moment until Mary sucked in her
breath. "Oh," she breathed. "You mean the Commander?"
"War on Terror? Crucifixes and the Caliphate? Yes, the very same?"
Cerian confirmed.
The five began muttering to each other in disbelief. "How the hell…"
Darril began, then stopped and shook his head.
Cerian held up a hand and they stopped talking. "Yes, and it was
made by the geniuses in the Council. But what's done is done and
now to the surprise of absolutely no one, they think he'd doing things
he shouldn't. Please direct all your complaints to Patrick here."
Patrick shot him a glare and he suppressed another smile.
"Aside from making the Council angry, no," Cerian admitted. "But it's
important later," He motioned at Patrick. "Go ahead."
Patrick took the center. "I assume each of you knows the
circumstances of the fall of the German government and the rise of
the military state now. There is some reason to believe that each of
the events that led to this weren't entirely the fault of the aliens."
They waited for him to continue. "In nearly all the attacks, evidence
was erased one way or another and we don't entirely have a good
idea of what happened before. The most obvious answer is alien
intervention, but the interesting thing is that we don't have evidence
for that in every single instance. However, in Cologne we might have
found something."
"That was where the acid attacks were." Ren, the last field operative
recalled.
"Our first target," Cerian answered and put up another picture. It was
low quality and only got part of her face, but enough to make out
some features. Black hair just below shoulder length and clearly
middle-eastern features. Sadly, the details of the face itself were
blurred and grainy.
"Our mystery woman met with Norman at a bar and after talking for a
bit, they left and presumably went to his place." Cerian put up
several more pictures. "These were taken the day after. Notice
anything?"
"And shortly after, our mystery woman vanished and hasn't been
seen since," Cerian finished. "I don't think it's a stretch to assume
she was involved with this."
"Not necessarily," Ren pointed out. "She might have been at the
wrong place at the wrong time and bailed when the attack started."
"Do you have suspects?" Mary asked, pulling out her tablet.
"We ran her face through our database," Patrick answered, picking
up a file. "We have four possible suspects." He put up four pictures
of various women.
He motioned to the third picture. "Yawe Ham, part of the inner circle
of the only major criminal organization in Israel. From what we
gather, she's the only one keeping the Mossad from eradicating the
organization which makes me suspect she is either former Israeli
Mossad or Kidon. Speaking of which…"
He indicated the last picture. "Ruth Shira, one of the only identified
Kidon agents in the world. Unfortunately, we don't know much about
her except that she's an expert manipulator and assassin.
Unconfirmed reports either have her coming from a poor family who
helped the Israeli military take down a criminal child prostitution ring,
a teacher who worked in Iran for a time and reported several
terrorists to the Mossad or simply a former criminal who hunted
down terrorists instead of officers. No story is confirmed."
"At the moment…." Cerian paused. "Ruth and Namr. Both are
intelligence types and would be the kind of women the Commander
would want. I highly doubt Alberta would become involved in an affair
this big and I don't see how Yawe could participate in this and
continue assisting the criminal organization."
"I know," Cerian nodded. "But I didn't know her enough to know if
this was something she'd do or not. But I'm leaning more towards
Ruth in this case."
Cerian nodded. "And until we get a hit, we search for more clues."
"Were these the only hits," Mary asked Patrick, looking thoughtful.
"Or are there more?"
Patrick looked at his own tablet and took a minute scrolling through
it. "There were sixty-three hits," he finally said. "I eliminated all the
civilian hits and military ones we had files on."
She looked down to make sure she was still presentable. Abby
nodded, the official XCOM dress uniform was oddly unceremonial;
gray pants and a slightly more heavy and ornate gray long sleeve
shirt with her combat boots. She'd pinned the medal she'd received
from the Dreadnaught operation on the left side of her shirt, though
she wondered if that was considered showing off.
Well, her uniform would look bare without it. She had indulged
herself a bit and not pulled her hair back, instead letting it hang but
tucking it behind her ears. Hopefully Zhang wouldn't care too much.
She patted her waist to ensure her laser pistol was there and
satisfied, took a deep breath and thumbed the door open.
It slid open noiselessly and she walked inside. It was fairly small,
about the side of the Commander's office. A table to the side held
stacks of files all in neatly organized boxes. To the other side was a
massive computer resting on the bottom with several desktops on
table above it. In the center of the room was some sort of…
holotable she guessed, showing the continent of Europe in a blue
light.
A massive screen hung on the back of the wall and below it was a
table, computer, desktop and chair where she assumed Zhang sat.
Speaking of which, Zhang was standing by the holotable in
conversation with a woman beside him.
She was smaller than Abby, though that wasn't saying much since
Abby was much taller than most women, in fact, she was able to look
Zhang in the eye. Smooth black hair fell to her shoulders, loose like
hers that framed her almost motherly face. Even from observing,
there was something warm and friendly about her and her eyes
sparkled with enthusiasm.
Zhang noticed her and waved her over. "Agent Gertrude, welcome."
Zhang shook his head, his scar flashing in the light. "No, I was just
discussing some unrelated topics," He gestured to the women.
"Abigail, this is Ruth Shira, your mentor."
Ruth gave a wide smile and extended her hand which Abby took.
"Glad to finally meet you. I'm looking forward to this."
If half the stories she'd read about intelligence work were true, that
was something she could believe easily.
Zhang cleared his throat. "Before you take Abigail away, both of you
need to be brought up to speed on recent events . " He looked at
Abby a deadly intensity in his eyes. "As an agent now, Abigail, you
will have access and knowledge of sensitive information and you are
not to share that with anyone outside the Commander, me, or the
agents assigned to the same operation as you. Understand?"
Abby blinked. How had they not heard of this? The Germany
situation she could understand, but the cyber-attack? That meant
that Zhang was disturbingly good at suppressing information and she
wondered what other stuff the soldiers weren't aware of. Zhang
continued.
Abby shook her head while Ruth frowned. "That myth has been
around longer than I've been alive," she answered skeptically. "It's
been disproven and exposed a long time ago."
"It was," Zhang agreed. "But regardless, that's the name connected
to both events."
"What is EXALT?" Abby asked, before things went too much farther.
Ruth shrugged. "Sure, but I only know the basics," She turned to
Abby. "EXALT became very prominent during the mid-fifties. The
prevailing theory was a global conspiracy consisting of a few
individuals who manipulated world events."
"Modern day Illuminati, I'd say," Ruth amended. "But essentially the
same thing. No one knew how they operated or were controlled. It
scared enough countries into devoting enormous amounts of
resources into finding this group and removing it."
She snorted. "And despite all that, the legend of EXALT is one that
refuses to die," she looked at Zhang. "I forget anything?"
"That about sums it up," Zhang agreed. "Though I've looked quite a
bit into the original documents and did find some information about
the supposed structure of EXALT." He tapped the holotable and it
flashed to a flat view of the world. "It appears that EXALT had one
major hub per continent, sometimes public, sometimes not. They
had one director, who was chosen is some sort of ritual contest
where the contestants had to kill each other. I'm highly skeptical of
that, but they did appear to have a leader."
"Are you saying you believe this?" Ruth asked, furrowing her
eyebrows.
"I for one, would be happy to end this myth once and for all," Ruth
stated enthusiastically. "You have an assignment?"
Ruth grabbed Abby by the arm and escorted her out of the room.
"Come on, agent. Let's see what you can do."
The Citadel, Training Area
Five hours later, Abby would have probably punched the woman,
Kidon agent or no, if she'd had the strength to do so. But after being
put through continuous exercises testing her strength, speed and
agility, she simply didn't have the strength and collapsed to the
ground.
Ruth stood over her, a wry grin on her face. "You getting up?"
"I literally cannot move," Abby gasped. "How much more could you
possibly have for me?"
"I'm not, actually," Ruth reached down and grasped her forearm and
hauled her to her feet. "The actual Kidon physical testing takes a
couple of hours but no one really follows it. Most people give out
around hour three. You made it just past the fifth hour.
Congratulations, you are only one of twenty to actually do that,
myself excluded."
"I would punch you if I had the strength," Abby warned, too tired to
really care about what she was saying. "I still might."
Ruth laughed, a sound just a warm as the rest of her. "Based on that
display, I think I'd let you." She let go of Abby and both of them
walked to an empty table, both drenched in sweat.
"So did I pass?" Abby asked wearily as she took a long drink of
water
"With flying colors," Ruth assured her, wiping her mouth after she
took a drink. "You need training on some more refined close-quarter
combat and resistance to interrogation of course, but you're more
than capable of achieving these."
"For the basics," Ruth clarified, motioning with her hand. "There are
some techniques you need to know about killing people, but those
aren't difficult to learn."
"Well yeah," Ruth said. "We're not assassins for nothing. True, we do
more than that in XCOM, but there are some things every agent
should know. How to snap a neck, where the arteries are and the
most efficient way to strangle a man twice as large as you."
Abby blinked. "You're serious, " she stated as she put her water
down.
She had a point. But still, saving lives was much different than taking
them on a regular basis. "But still," she shook her head. "You're
talking about people ."
Abby paused for a few seconds, then shook her head. "Only aliens."
"As I thought," Ruth said, shifting in her seat. "What about someone
innocent?"
Abby thought very carefully for a few minutes before replying. Her
initial reaction was an emphatic no, regardless of what Ruth thought.
This was a clearly important question to her and Abby wasn't sure
how she'd react either way. Furthermore, the longer she thought
about it, the less sure she became. Could she just kill someone in
cold blood, an innocent no less? She finally just decided to be
honest.
Ruth pursed her lips, growing more serious. "It's a distinct possibility,
and one you should prepare yourself for, because it will happen
sooner or later. And no, it's not as clear cut as you're probably
thinking. It's probably going to be an accident or bad luck."
She turned to face her a bit better. "The first time it happened to me,
I was on a scouting op in the Middle East. A rather notorious criminal
had made his unofficial home there and I was to make sure he didn't
move without my knowledge. Everything was going smoothly until a
small group of shepherds accidentally stumbled on my position."
Ruth did look somewhat remorseful as she continued. "They had no
clue who I was, but they were clearly terrified of me. I had a choice;
let them go or kill them. There was a good chance that if I let them
go, they'd go tell this criminal where I was or even just say I was in
the area. This criminal had a sizable group of armed men following
him and if he learned where I was, they would kill me and move on.
Best case would be I survived, but lost the trail. "
"Couldn't you have just tied them up?" Abby asked, lacing her fingers
together.
Ruth shook her head. "And do what? I had no clue how long I was
going to be there and I had no food or water to give them. I was
already in a difficult position because I knew people were going to
come looking for them whatever I chose. I had at most a few days
before the criminal was spooked and at least then I could track him."
She shook her head again. "No. I couldn't jeopardize the mission just
to save a few innocent people. So I killed them and disposed to the
bodies. Painlessly, of course." Ruth waved her hand absentmindedly.
"And I did the right thing. Several more of the Kidon arrived at my
position and we eradicated the criminal and his soldiers and left with
no one the wiser. Four people were sacrificed to save hundreds
more. That's something I can live with."
Abby didn't know if something was wrong with her because she did
understand Ruth's point. Was she a bad person for understanding
why and not feeling outraged? Or was it alright since she still didn't
agree with it? To her credit, Ruth seemed to understand her internal
dilemma and didn't press her to speak.
"Do you regret it?" She asked finally. "Or wish you'd done it
differently?"
Ruth frowned. "Killing them? No, I still believe that was the right
decision. But the circumstances then were beyond my control. If I
had brought that choice on myself, then yes I would."
Abby supposed that was a decent enough answer. At least it didn't
seem that Ruth wasn't completely heartless. Actually, she seemed a
rather animated and cheerful woman. Prior to this conversation, she
never would have guessed she was a professional assassin.
"If it's any comfort, the majority of people killed in this business
deserve it," Ruth finally said. "But you should be ready, just in case."
"As do we all," Ruth agreed. "Though I don't want to worry you too
much. XCOM Intelligence is a bit different from the Kidon. Not quite
as much killing. Manipulation, sabotage and surveillance are a bit
more prevalent."
Abby frowned and sighed. "I think I'm in way over my head."
Ruth snorted. "Nonsense, you're young, bright and good with people.
Training is only one part, the application is just as important. As long
as you can apply what I teach you, you'll do fine."
"As a matter of fact, I think I can," Ruth answered with a slight smile.
"I'm pretty sure I know what op Zhang is referring to and I think it'll be
a good exercise for you." She stood. "Come one, let's walk. We've
done enough physical training for today."
Patricia sighed in relief as she neared the doors. The buzzing that
had plagued her had receded enough that she could ignore it without
finding a distraction. It was extremely odd, the buzzing tended to
fade the fewer people who were nearby. She didn't know whether
that was a coincidence or meant something.
The doors slid open and a rush of sterile and cold air rushed out,
blowing her hair back a little. The scientists were busy looking
through microscopes and at data from computer screens. Alien
bodies and tech were resting on tables throughout the labs and
Vahlen herself was standing by a container filled with some strange
yellow substance.
Patricia frowned. At first glance it looked like that alien blood and she
wondered what possible use Vahlen could have for it. Upon taking a
closer look, she realized it wasn't blood, but some sort of… liquid?
Gel? It shimmered slightly when the light hit the right places and she
thought she saw glowing… hexagons? What was this stuff?
Well, maybe she could casually ask during whatever Vahlen had
planned. Speaking of which, the woman had seen her and waved
her over. Patricia took a breath and walked over to the table.
"No problem," Vahlen dismissed while she made some notes on her
tablet. "I must admit, I am somewhat curious as to what's afflicting
you."
Patricia smirked and resisted the chance to roll her eyes. Of course
you are . Well, at least she was honest, despite her questionable
words of… was that supposed to be reassurance? Well, it didn't
matter.
Vahlen took the piece of paper and took a few minutes looking at it,
pure curiosity in her brown eyes as she scanned the page. Patricia
could almost see her mind trying to come up with explanations for
them. "How did you get this?" She finally asked. "I've seen these on
some of the tech we've recovered, we believe this is what constitutes
the alien language, though I'm certain any preliminary results haven't
been shared with the armed forces."
Patricia tapped the piece of paper. "That's what they mean. One
word per line."
Vahlen's eyebrows rose, though her voice was more curious than
disbelieving. "How could you possibly know that?"
Patricia scowled. "I don't know. That's what I've been trying to figure
out for the past few days. I shouldn't even know what these are, yet I
do. I shouldn't have any clue what they mean but I do. I can't explain
why, but I'm certain that's what they mean."
"What do you mean feel ?" Vahlen asked, appraising her curiously.
"Those words I listed off," Patricia motioned at the piece of paper. "I
felt each emotion associated with the word. But it wasn't my
emotions, it was something, or some one else's."
Vahlen paused for a minute, clearly thinking. "I've seen the footage
from the armor cams. You made reference to the interface of the
power conduit 'shimmering.' Something I didn't see on review of the
footage."
Patricia shrugged helplessly. "I don't know why, it just… was. I knew
what I had to do to shut it down."
Patricia hesitated. There was one thing, but it was so outlandish she
didn't know if it should be considered. Vahlen saw her hesitation.
"There is," Vahlen stated, eyes lighting up. "Tell me."
"Feel free to dismiss it," Patricia warned. "It's probably just a massive
coincidence. But a few days ago I was training, I think. But the
buzzing stopped and… I don't know what happened, but I knew
someone was coming to see me. More than that, I knew who it was."
"You have an idea, don't you?" She half stated, half asked.
"A theory," Vahlen mused as she walked. "You were clearly affected
by alien technology, it seems to be the conduit. However, what I find
interesting is that if you were affected by something, everyone else
who came into contact should have been as well."
"So that might mean their language is based on emotional cues and
not literal meaning," Vahlen muttered, more to herself than Patricia.
"And the best way such a language could be communicated is direct
mental communication."
Patricia sucked in her breath, hoping that didn't mean what she
thought it did. "You mean…?"
Damn it. It actually made some sense, and if she had been
contacted by an alien… "It's not still inside me is it?" She asked,
trying not to sound overly concerned.
"I don't know for sure," Vahlen shook her head. "But I doubt it.
Unless you've been seeing more symbols you haven't told be about."
Ok. A few possibilities ran through her mind, the most likely of which
was that Vahlen wanted to take scans of her. Reasonable, especially
if they helped figure out what the issue was. So even if that was the
explanation for the symbols, it still didn't explain the buzzing or
instances with Creed.
Vahlen opened the door and they walked into the empty waiting
room. Without bothering to ask permission, Vahlen immediately
made for the back room and Patricia reluctantly followed. She had
the vague impression that they should at least be telling someone
what they were doing.
"Here." Vahlen turned into one of the rooms which contained some
kind of bizarre scanning equipment. Well, not bizarre, but she was
pretty sure she'd never seen it before.
"Sit here," Vahlen ordered, pointing at the little cot that slid into the
machine. While Patricia went over, Vahlen went and gathered some
cords which she recognized doctors stuck on you when they took
brain scans and the like. So her assumption had been correct, it
seems.
"Hey? What are you doing?" Patricia looked over to see a man in a
XCOM issue surgeon uniform. His large arms were crossed and was
glaring at Vahlen, green eyes boring into her.
Vahlen stepped back and let him take over. "Of course, but have it
your way." Despite her calmness, it was clear she wasn't happy at
being interrupted.
He ran his hand over her blonde hair. "Well, you're here now. I might
as well help you finish."
One all the wires and sensors had been attached Blake nodded at
her. "Alright, lie back. This should only take about five minutes. Keep
calm."
She hated when people said that. It always backfired since it implied
that yes, it was possible something could go wrong. So instead of
actually being calm, she would always have that doubt in the back of
her mind.
"You got it?" She asked Vahlen who was staring at the screen.
Supplementary Material
OVERVIEW: The alien named the "Sectoid" by Dr. Moira Vahlen was
the first alien encountered in the initial invasion. Appearing to serve
as support to the larger and more powerful aliens, these creatures
can still pose a threat of left unattended to. Despite their
vulnerabilities, they make up for it by utilizing the enigmatic forces
known as psionics. They are the only recorded alien species being
capable of wielding this power.
Their bulbous heads are enlarged beyond what is typically normal for
a creature it's size. It lacks a mouth yet possesses vocal cords since
soldiers have witnessed the sectoids making chittering sounds. It is
unknown if these are their primary method of communication.
STRENGTHS:
Counter: The plasma weapons the sectoids wield are weaker than
those employed by the rest of the alien forces (With the exception of
the Sectoid Leader - See Note 1). As a result, XCOM has made
enough strides in armor that a hit from a sectoid plasma weapon is
now not immediately fatal (Except if struck in the head). Please note
that repeated hits will still result in serious injury or death.
WEAKNESSES:
TACTICS:
"The first plane has arrived," Ethan informed her while she watched
a screen displaying several news stations from various countries. It
was a hobby of hers, seeing the effect of EXALT influence at work.
Suppressing news was far less complicated than people realized; it
was less about directly suppressing news as much as promoting
unrelated or unimportant content. Get enough people talking about
something trivial, and they would forget anything else important.
She shook her head and shut off the screen and turned to face
Ethan, who was in his dress uniform as well, minus the bandana
which hung around his neck. "You know who it is?" She asked,
tugging on the collar of her own uniform.
"Ah." She had an… amicable relationship with her sister and now
head of the Vyandar family. Even when growing up, they'd had quite
a few fundamental disagreements. Disagreements that hadn't
dissipated with time.
Still, she was family and that would never change. But Saudia saw
no reason to change her opinions simply because her sister was
now the head of her family. Well, by now she knew which topics to
avoid with her, though there was no guarantee Hasina would be so
willing to keep it strictly business. Hasina took her responsibilities to
her family seriously.
Too seriously, if she was being honest. Hasina had a tendency to put
the good of the Vyandar family ahead of EXALT and while she
completely understood the motivation, it simply wasn't acceptable.
"Absolutely not," she told him. "If she had a problem, she'll just have
to deal with it."
She smiled and brushed her hair back with a gloved hand.
"Excellent," she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Let's get to
the hangar."
Ethan grinned and pulled the bandanna over his mouth and
motioned to the door with his hand. "After you, Director." She obliged
and both of them walked out the door into the ornate hallway.
A lush red carpet lined the tiled hallway and crystal chandeliers hung
from the ceiling in a row. The tables held expensive vases and other
elaborate conversation pieces. The whole of the Bastion was a
demonstration of wealth and power, much of which she found to be
going a little overboard. As far as she knew, it had always been like
this, updated through the times of course, and upon initially taking
the role of Director, she'd considered removing most of the excess
furnishings in favor of more practical arrangements.
But in the end, she'd left it as it was. She wondered how many
before her had come to the same conclusion, it wasn't the furnishing
themselves that were important. Rather, it was the implication and
demonstration of wealth and power that were most important. It
reinforced the image of EXALT being superior and unstoppable to
the personnel and soldiers employed and conveyed the same to
their allies and enemies, as well as fear or wariness.
Even the alien had been impressed. At least from what she could tell
from his expressions, assuming that that creature even knew what
human emotions he was imitating. "Do you have times when each of
them is to arrive?" Saudia asked Ethan as they walked, preparing for
a mentally exhausting day. If it was possible, she wanted to speak to
the Heads of the Families before the meeting, which might or might
not be possible depending on how soon they showed up.
"And the rest?" She asked while she opened one of the carved
wooden doors.
"Diguon and Elizabeth are about forty minutes out," Ethan recalled.
"Darian is closer to an hour."
She sighed. "I hope he has a good reason for the delay."
She nodded. That was most certainly true. Not to mention the Eridan
family was the second smallest after the Venator family. They did
excellent work, as expected, but the lower number of personnel did
mean that intervention took longer than usual. The realities of
overseeing one of the more troublesome continents. After
overseeing Africa for a few years, she could sympathize.
She sighed. "I can't believe I'm wearing this thing again."
"Shut up." Saudia responded as she opened the hangar door and
walked inside.
EXALT had no air force, and thus didn't have a large hangar. There
was one of the transport planes, her personal one, but literally
nothing else. The only regular usage came from the weekly supply
transport carrying fuel, supplies and food. Visitors were rare; rare
enough not to warrant an expansion of the hangar.
It would be more crowded than usual, but each family plane should
be able to dock without problems. Her arrival was good timing on her
part; Hasina was just disembarking the plane now, flanked by three
Vyandar EXALT soldiers.
It was quite easy to tell they were related. Hasina's face was a bit
rounder and her black skin a touch lighter than her own, but they
were nearly identical in every way else. Unlike her, Hasina kept her
hair moderately short; the raven locks barely falling past her ears.
Her hands were clasped in front of her and she didn't look entirely
pleased.
Then again, she'd always been a serious woman. Much like Saudia.
The soldiers with her, one man and two women, were clearly native
to Africa as well. Even if Saudia hadn't noticed their forest green
bandannas, she could tell simply from their skin, features and
demeanor. They held automatic weapons at the ready with a pistol
strapped to each of their legs. Their attire was similar to Hasina's,
though far bulkier, likely due to the body armor underneath.
Hasina said something to the male soldier, and seeing how he took
the two women and walked away, she assumed he'd been told to
leave. She'd probably done that in the hopes that she'd order Ethan
to leave as well. How unfortunate for her.
They stepped back and Hasina gave a small smile. "[That it has,]"
she responded wryly. "[Though we've both been… busy.]"
Saudia gave a grin. "[That we have.]"
Hasina glanced over at Ethan and barely inclined her head in his
direction. "Ethan," she acknowledged, now in English. "Doing
everything to keep her alive, I assume?"
Saudia nodded and motioned that they should walk. Hasina fell into
step beside her and Ethan trailed behind. "[What news do you
have?]" Saudia asked curiously. Despite being the Director, she
didn't feel the need to interfere or pry in the internal affairs of the
families, including her own. She would only intervene if their disputes
or issues began having an adverse effect on EXALT as a whole. Still,
she disliked being out of the loop, even if it was self-imposed.
Hasina indicated Ethan behind her. "[I'd rather he not be here. This
should only be discussed with members of the family.]"
And just like that Hasina couldn't resist making comments like that.
Saudia pursed her lips. "[He's my husband.]"
Fine. She didn't want to argue to Hasina now, not before the
meeting. But she'd have to have a discussion about her blatant
disrespect soon. After years of putting up with it, it was getting old.
Still, she turned toward Ethan. "Could you assemble the soldiers? I
want them ready when the rest get here."
Luckily Ethan knew exactly what was up and didn't dispute her at all,
for which she was grateful. "Of course, Director. They'll be ready
within ten minutes." With that he saluted her and began walking off
until she grabbed his arm.
"Thank you," she told him, conveying her gratitude through her eyes.
He appeared to understand and gently removed her hand and
walked off to fulfill his orders. She turned back to Hasina who was
looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
"[You do know I'll be telling him everything later,]" she warned Hasina
as they resumed walking. "[We don't keep secrets.]"
"Hmm," Hasina muttered. "[That is your decision, sister. But I will not
be responsible for an outsider learning of it.]"
Hasina twitched her lips. "[Perhaps. I suppose I'll feel more confident
when I'm not relying on him for advice.]"
Saudia snorted. "[It took him decades to learn what he did. You've
only been doing this four years. Don't feel guilty relying on him.]"
"[A few days ago,]" Hasina answered with a wave of her hand. "[I
would have told you… but you were dealing with the aliens and
when you called for a meeting I figured I might as well wait to tell you
in person.]"
"[Thank you,]" Saudia told her sincerely. "[You did the right thing.]"
They were both silent for a few minutes. "[How long?]"
Saudia nodded. That was a sound plan. The Eridan Family provided
nearly all of EXALT's chemical, medical and pharmaceutical needs
and development. If anyone was able to help, Darian certainly would.
Still, it would only delay the inevitable.
"[I know,]" Hasina sighed. "[But… I still have so much more to learn
from him… I'm worried. And I know things are only going to get
harder in the next few months.]"
"[Hey,]" Saudia told her firmly, looking her in the eye. "[You've done
well so far, and no, it wasn't just because of Father. Do you really
think he'd have approved you taking over if he wasn't sure you could
do it?]"
"[No,]" Hasina admitted, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "[But then
again, I wasn't his first choice, was I?]"
Saudia suppressed a sigh and began walking towards the first plane
that had arrived, Hasina close behind her. She smiled when she saw
who it was. Matthew, Head of the Solaris family and Overseer of
North America, walked down the steps with two Solaris EXALT
soldiers behind him. Dressed in an unremarkable American black
business suit, the only indications of his loyalty and rank was the
EXALT emblem embroidered in silver thread on the pocket. The
Solaris emblem was a golden pin attached to the suit. She supposed
he had no reason to hide it since it was displayed around America
anyways.
His soldiers were dressed almost identically with the only major
difference besides their navy blue bandannas were the black leather
gloves they wore in comparison to Matthew who didn't wear any. He
smiled as he noticed them approaching and motioned his soldiers to
stay put.
"Matthew," she returned, giving him a quick hug. "It's been too long."
Hasina nodded in return, but little else. "The feeling is mutual, Mr.
Solaris."
Really? Well that was intriguing. Matthew had her trust and he knew
it. For him to still want her permission meant it was big. "When you
say major opportunity, you mean…?"
He gave a small grin. "I mean that if we play our cards right, we have
a chance to control the United States."
Even Hasina raised her eyebrow at that. "Well," Saudia finally said.
"We'll have to speak after the meeting."
Saudia turned to see Zara with half a dozen Venator EXALT soldiers
behind her. "I'll greet her," she said, looking back at them. "Both of
you are free to head to the meeting room. I presume you know the
one?"
Both of them nodded and began heading further inside the Bastion.
Saudia turned and began approaching the entourage. The amount of
soldiers Zara had brought with her seemed like overkill, but it was
too expected with the family responsible for the vast majority of their
military power.
Zara hadn't added anything to her own armor aside for the EXALT
emblem emblazoned on her upper right chest in black. She extended
her hand as Saudia approached which Saudia took. The grip was
firm but not overly hard, indicating Zara retained at least some
finesse. "Director," she greeted firmly, with a deferential nod. "A
pleasure to see you again."
"You too, Zara," she responded. The Venator family was notorious
with who they wholeheartedly supported. Paradoxically, Saudia
considered them the most loyal of all the families, despite their
issues. They supported the ideals and goals of EXALT without
question and each of them was willing to die for the cause. That
same loyalty didn't extend to people and if the Venator family had
issues with anyone, they were made known and they would flatly
refuse to work, intervene or take orders from them unless pressured
by the rest of the families or some agreement was arranged.
"I see you didn't skimp on a detail," Saudia noted wryly glancing at
the six men and woman behind Zara. "Expecting trouble?"
"Maybe I just want to feel protected," she joked sarcastically. "Not all
of us have Ethan looking out for them."
Zara clasped her hands behind her back and gave a wide smile.
"Now that I'm looking forward too."
Saudia nodded. "The ones who've arrived are heading in. You may
join them when ready."
"Excellent," Zara turned on her heel and her soldiers fell into step
behind her. Before she began walking, she looked back at Saudia.
"Solaris is here, correct?"
"Ah, excellent. I want to know if that new rifle prototype is ready for
manufacturing."
"He's speaking with Hasina now," Saudia added. "But you should
have enough time before the others show up."
To date, the longest any Head of the Venator family had survived
was twelve years. Not a single one had ever survived to pass on the
mantle to his or her children. Luckily, there was never a shortage of
willing soldiers to take the position. The Venator family was also
quite aware of the high death rate and whenever a new head was
chosen, a successor was also chosen as quickly as possible for the
smoothest transition possible.
Zara had been serving nearly five years. Saudia estimated she'd
probably last another five but not much more than that. Well, what
would happen would happen, little she could do to change that. She
checked her watched and waited for the rest of the planes to arrive.
The meeting room was a plain and bare room lit by soft white lights.
But what it did offer was a beautiful view of the Antarctic wasteland.
Saudia found it soothing, especially during the frequent snowstorms
and it was one of the only places in the Bastion that didn't include
extravagant furnishing.
There was one small wooden round table with seven seats, one for
each family head and one for the Director. No one else was allowed,
though none were specifically forbidden from sharing what
transpired. They were all professionals who knew who to share with
and how much. There had never been any information leaks from
the Bastion, proof enough for her to permit the heads to share with
specific people.
The table could also be used as a holotable if needed, and she fully
intended to utilize that feature during the meeting. Everyone had
arrived and were now seated before here waiting for her to begin.
Beside here were Hasina and Matthew; beside them were Elizabeth,
Head of the Falka family and Overseer of Europe and Diguon, Head
of the Mercado family and Overseer of Asia respectively. And
opposite her were Zara and Darian, Head of the Eridan family and
Overseer of South America.
Time to begin. Saudia rested her fingertips on the table. "Thank you
all for responding so quickly. I understand recent events have
increased our workload, but I'm grateful regardless."
"I couldn't agree more," Saudia nodded. "Each of you know why
we're here so I'll not waste more time. My meeting with the alien
representative proceeded without incident and we have established
an alliance. We will officially work with them to destroy XCOM and
subvert the countries into accepting alien rule."
From the knowing and smug smiles around the room, they clearly
hadn't missed her usage of the word officially . "In return they will
provide us with their technology, weaponry and knowledge to use as
we will."
"Fear," Zara stated with a grim smile. "They believe they can
intimidate us into submission simply because they are more
advanced. That is their guarantee. They are arrogant enough to
believe their very presence is a deterrent."
Diguon pursed his lips. "I have noticed the same thing," he said, his
heavily accented voice a sharp contrast to the rest of the room. "That
particular issue needs to be addressed."
"It will," Saudia promised. "But returning to the original point; I agree
with Matthew in that they likely assume the threat of our destruction
will subdue us. But I also think that they would be perfectly fine if we
stayed loyal to them. Furthermore, we have something they want
that they've apparently been unable to reproduce."
"I think it's a much simpler motive," Diguon interjected, adjusting his
glasses. "XCOM will eventually develop a human psionic
themselves. The longer the aliens drag out this war, the more
inevitable it becomes. If they were to discover a way to mitigate or
prevent humans from becoming psionic, then they would have
removed what is arguably humanity's strongest weapons against
them."
Saudia shook her head. "Not yet. But I've told them we will turn
some over once they've been studied more."
"We should not," Diguon stated bluntly. "The aliens are simply a
means to an end. When Earth burns, we must have a fighting
chance to reclaim it. I fear providing the aliens with our psionic
subjects will only hinder that goal."
"Hasina is right," Matthew nodded. "I don't like it either, but for now
we must maintain the illusion of cooperation. But play our cards right
and we can make it difficult for them."
"Not possible at this time," Saudia shook her head. "Your people are
certainly welcome, but we simply have too few subjects to move
around. Once we refine the process, you will receive your subjects.
Until then, we must first understand psionics."
"I agree," Saudia nodded. "Besides, I'd prefer to keep our internal
operations secret from the aliens." Saudia turned her attention back
to the table. "Now, they've followed through on their promise and
send a substantial amount of their technology to the Bastion. I've
split the contents into three sections; Weapons, biological and
chemical substances, and equipment."
"Very well," Diguon conceded, steepling his fingers. "If the aliens
have deceived us in any way, my people will discover it."
"I expect nothing less." Saudia reached down and tapped on of the
buttons on the tables. Blue lights around the edge flared and the
holographic image of several plasma weapons and components
appeared. "The aliens have provided us with five "unbound" plasma
rifles and two rifles that have been dismantled for us to research on
a more intimate scale."
"Sounds like a plan," Matthew looked over at Diguon. "I'll send you
everything once we gain some more concrete data."
"Diguon, you'll oversee the equipment we've received," Saudia
informed, directing her attention towards him. "It appears to consist
of computers and scanning devices. Your specialty, correct?"
"Truly?" his eyebrows shot up. "If that's the case, I suppose I should
begin acquiring more test subjects."
"That might take time," Diguon warned, eyebrows furrowing. "It took
us a significant amount of time to acquire the subjects for the psionic
experiment."
"Excellent," Darian nodded, sounding more excited for the first time
in months. "It'll be nice to not have constraints."
"Excellent." Saudia shut off the holodisplay. "Now onto the state of
the world. We can all assume it's changed significantly since our last
meeting. Darian, you first."
Darian nodded. "It's really changed surprisingly little. The majority of
the populace is more concerned about their next meal instead of
being abducted. We still retain a limited amount of influence over the
major countries, especially Brazil, Argentina and Colombia but I'm
holding off advancing my agents."
Darian inclined his head humbly. "With the help of dear Lady Falka,
our people will have influence over every facet of the major South
American countries."
Zara snorted. "You have two major problems with this: One, while
the South American populace might not care about the aliens,
everyone else does. Who's really going to care? Two: You really
think they're just going to step down once implicated when they have
control of the military?"
"Worth it," Matthew answered, clearly satisfied. "As for the state of
affairs, well, Canada is still inconsequential, though several of my
people have increased in rank and status. But they are taking a "wait
and see" approach with the aliens. Knowing the Prime Minister, he
won't make a decision until the rest of the civilized world reaches
some sort of consensus."
"No," Zara injected scornfully. "They'll make a statement when some
countries wants to make peace with the aliens."
The country was also more difficult to effectively control and sow
dissent. The side effect of a more pacifistic culture was that people
were naturally more polite, open-minded and passionate. Though
they tended to become a lot more aggressive when presented with
opposing views since many were convinced that they were correct.
"I hope you're focusing on the right things," Hasina questioned with a
frown. "Infiltrating the Cartels might backfire, not to mention we'll
have little influence in the government itself."
He paused. "So the question is how to remove the Cartels for good,
without military intervention," he said, casting a sidelong glance at
Zara. "No offense, Overseer Venator, but a military solution is difficult
to keep discrete."
"That's all well and good for the people," Elizabeth pointed out,
chewing her lip. "But won't it be suspicious when their client base
starts to not need their products anymore?"
"Of course," Matthew agreed. "But that isn't what will happen. This
will be gradual; we'll reduce the addictive properties a bit, have that
circulate for a month or so, then reduce it a bit more. It might take
years and is the reason I've waited until I had people in all the
Cartels. This has to be consistent across the board between them to
draw less suspicion."
"Our control group in Argentina was given our version of meth over a
period of six months," Darian confirmed. "Results are almost
universally successful."
"Using the aliens to remove their soldiers and our product to remove
their source of income," Hasina mused pleasantly. "We finally
dismantle the Cartels."
"Hopefully more," Matthew answered. "Now, for the USA. Simply put,
tensions are extremely high for a multitude of reasons. Lines are
quickly being drawn, mostly over the typical partisan lines, and
neutrality is vanishing. Now, there are several ways to take
advantage of this, but an operation this large will need to gone over
in greater detail, with the Director first." He nodded at Saudia.
"No, I'm going to ignore one of the biggest political events in years,"
he answered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. " Of course I have plans
to use the election. Campaigning has already begun."
"One year early," Saudia shook her head. American politics was both
fascinating and utterly ridiculous sometimes. "You have your eye on
several of the candidates?"
"It probably didn't help that the Vice President was charged with
corruption," Elizabeth commented wryly. "I assume that caused
some PR issues."
Matthew shook his head. "You have no idea the amount of damage
control the good President had to do. It permanently damaged her
reputation, which is why she'll not be running for reelection. The
Republicans want her out of the spotlight as quickly as possible."
"You said that was before the aliens," Diguon recalled. "So what
now?"
"So it's on their agenda, just not the highest concern?" Saudia
clarified.
"And what are the chances that will happen?" Hasina asked.
A mess that was extremely personal to her, since Elizabeth was the
one who'd botched the Germany operation. Something she'd been
trying to atone for ever since. Saudia leaned back. "Is Germany still
part of the EU?"
"And risk the world uniting against them?" Elizabeth snorted. "They
might be warmongers, but they aren't stupid. A complete takeover
would bring worldwide condemnation."
"The point is that we should prepare for China to take a more active
role against the aliens," Diguon said. "Since we control most of their
technology, we can utilize that when they fight the aliens. But I
suspect the Chinese will figure out the tech is faulty after a few
instances so we must use that sparingly."
Saudia waited for him to deny it but his face turned grave. "That is a
distinct possibility. China has not ruled out annexing nations if the
aliens threaten the homeland."
"I have enough people to ensure that Russia will not use nuclear
weapons," Diguon promised. "But as for annexation… Ukraine,
Belarus and Finland are prime targets if Russia decides to expand
their borders."
"I assume so," Diguon answered. "Which is why I also think China
will refrain from taking it if they decide to expand. Neither country
wants to antagonize the other."
"We should remove that country or unify it," Zara muttered. "North
Korea is too dangerous to allow without at least some knowledge of
what they're doing. At least with Israel we know when something is
happening. North Korea could nuke South Korea and we wouldn't
know in advance. No offense to your source, Director."
"To his credit, The Supreme Leader has kept things quiet," Elizabeth
acknowledged. "But we'd be foolish to think North Korea doesn't
have plans."
"I assume the native populace is taken care of?" Saudia asked.
"Nope," Zara shook her head. "People live their boring lives on the
civilized side while we conquered the other half."
Saudia didn't really expect anything different, but she still wanted to
confirm. "One last order of business: XCOM."
This might be the most important issue at the moment. "Within the
coming weeks I'm going to being authorizing combat operations in
conjunction with the aliens," she nodded at Zara. "This should give
you an adequate challenge. XCOM soldiers are the best from around
the world. I hope you prove yourselves."
Saudia nodded. "Yes, and our scheduled info dump is coming up.
He'll likely be able to answer some questions we've all be having."
"Like who the Commander actually is," Matthew said. "I've looked
into the possible candidates and everyone is either still serving or
dead."
"Unlikely," Elizabeth denied. "I also looked into it. Even from the ones
who died, there are better choices still alive."
"No," Saudia shook her head. "Van Doorn went missing long after
XCOM began operating. Not to mention the rumors about the
hostility between the Commander and Council wouldn't make sense
if that was the case."
Her lips curled into a grin. "However, I did hit on this idea. Instead of
anti-alien propaganda, we instead use anti- XCOM propaganda. We
turn the population against XCOM and in turn, the United Nations,
but not necessarily the aliens themselves. Then when we reveal
ourselves as the alternative, public opinion will be in our favor."
"We can also use their alliances against them," Matthew added. "For
Germany we can push the pro-police state narrative and for Israel…
perhaps the pro-interventionist narrative?"
"Both would work," Saudia agreed. "I would also add that we could
turn the anti-UN, anti-globalist and anti-establishment demographics
against XCOM as well."
"A few videos of XCOM gunning down civilians would also help,"
Elizabeth mused. "Zara, after you kill a few XCOM soldiers I'd ask
you not damage the armor too much. My film crews will need at least
a few suits."
"I believe that covers everything," Saudia told him as they sat at one
of the few round wooden tables in the well-furnished room.
But whatever his methods, he did his job perfectly well. The
Chronicler was an older man, as his white hair and wrinkled face
clearly showed. Despite that, he had the best memory of anyone
she'd met; likely the reason he'd been chosen in the first place.
Saudia took a sip of her wine. "It was a pivotal meeting. Something
that I feel will become more prevalent in the coming days."
At times she wondered. The Chronicler had been alive her entire life
and been essential in helping her as Director. He was as much a part
of the Bastion as the building itself and the only one within EXALT
that wasn't tied to the families in some way. The given reason was to
prevent biases in the records favoring one family or another.
Well, she trusted him and in the meantime would enjoy his company.
"I'm wondering if I shouldn't travel to North America," he said, looking
up in contemplation. "It seems as though many important events are
taking place," his tone turned wistful. "It's also been too long since
I've seen the United States."
"I appreciate the offer," the Chronicler told her sincerely. "But I don't
get my impressions simply from briefings and reports like you and
Matthew do." His lips curled up. "It's too… impersonal for me. I need
to go to the cities and talk to the people. I can't simply draw my
conclusions from what my superiors tell me. No offense."
She raised her glass in acknowledgement and they were silent for a
few minutes. "Does it ever make you sad?" She asked, looking in her
glass and swishing the red liquid around. "That almost no one will
know the truth?"
He sighed and looked around the library, the shelves filled with
hundreds of books older than her. The true story of the world
scattered throughout. "They wouldn't understand," he finally said.
"How would it feel, knowing everything around you has been
carefully crafted? That the causes and events that you believe in are
lies and illusions." He shook his head. "I suspect most people would
be justifiably angry."
"I've never said that," she protested. "But we both know humanity is
incapable of uniting without our intervention. It simply isn't possible."
"I know, I know," he placated with a raised hand. "Trust me, I've
memorized the unfortunate history of our species. I know what we're
capable of in terms of our greed, ambition and conquest. But I've
also read and witnessed all the good we can accomplish without
EXALT."
He leaned forward intently. "I'll tell you the same thing I told your
predecessor; Much as you may wish it, you will not be able to
change the world alone. You need to know this now more than ever."
"You know I always involve the families-" Saudia began when the
Chronicler raised a hand.
"As long as the major governments still exist, you have a point," she
admitted. "But when all those are destroyed there will be little
opposition."
"And what exactly will you do?" He asked, cocking his head to the
side inquisitively. "Unite the human race with a few hundred
soldiers? Somehow convince the world that an organization never
before known should be trusted?"
She sighed. "A rather poor attempt at pointing out the flaws of our
objective. Both of us know referring to the plan in such simple terms
is wrong."
Saudia leaned back in her chair. "Why do I have the feeling that
you're trying to suggest something?"
He was silent for a few minutes while she patiently waited. "I'm not
suggesting anything yet," he finally said. "But… don't dismiss XCOM
as a minor inconvenience."
She frowned. That had come out of nowhere. "And why not? Do you
honestly believe they have a chance?"
"A fact that was drilled in by the Venators," she added, recalling the
long days in the Gauntlet.
Saudia blinked. The Russian phase of the Gauntlet was the last trial
before completion. Only the best of EXALT even attempted it since
there was a very real chance of death. "You completed the
Gauntlet?"
"Before I forget, thank you for looking after Martel," she told him.
"Of course," he answered happily. "He'd a bright kid. You've done
well so far."
"He wasn't too much trouble?" She asked setting her glass on the
table.
Saudia rolled her eyes. "How utterly shocking. What did you tell
him?"
"He's your son," the Chronicler answered. "I told him you would
answer your questions if he finished his studies and you wanted too.
That seemed to placate him."
"I'm sure it did," she nodded. "I'll tell him tomorrow, since it's…" she
glanced at the time. "Almost midnight. Well then."
"You ever wonder if you tell him too much?" he asked, an eyebrow
raised curiously. "I'm not sure he fully comprehends what you tell
him."
"I'll trust you on that," he said, standing up. "It's been a wonderful
conversation, but I need to sleep. You as well, I think."
It felt good to finally get out of that uniform. EXALT might be the most
visually striking organization in the world in terms of attire, but that
didn't mean she was overly fond of it. Now she simply wore a black t-
shirt and shorts. She still found it somewhat amusing that the cloths
designers somehow found a way to put the EXALT emblem on
literally every piece of clothing.
She turned around to see Ethan, still in full uniform, start taking off
his weapons. "Just checking that no one smuggled anything here,"
he told her as he hung up his rifle. "A lot of people came here today."
Smirking, she walked over and helped lose the straps on his armor.
"Always paranoid. I doubt any of the families would be stupid enough
to kill me."
She smiled and helped him out of his body armor. "I appreciate it. I
suppose a little paranoia is warranted."
Saudia let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Short version is that
everything went great. Well, mostly. We have a good chance to
secure South America, possibly North America as well."
Ethan's head shot up and he narrowed his eyes. "I know I asked for
the short version, but… how? The United States…"
"I honestly don't know specifics," she admitted as she walked over to
the closet and picked out a plain gray shirt for him. "But Matthew has
a plan. One that he seems pretty confident in. Since we also stand to
eliminate the Mexican Cartels, I'm inclined to trust him."
"Aren't you worried that these plans are…" Ethan paused from inside
the shower. "Too long term? I mean, there's an alien invasion
happening, I'm not sure we should be planning years in advance
when they can end this war within a few months."
"A risk," Saudia admitted. "But if the aliens were concerned with
conquering this world, I think they'd have done it a while ago. But
when the aliens are gone, we'll need to have operations in place to
secure order."
"You know more than me," he said, and she could imagine the shrug
in his voice. "So anything else?"
"Yes," Saudia agreed. "But I don't know how much he's delegated to
the Russian side of the Mercados. His brother might know more."
"I know, and I he does as well," Saudia defended. "But you should
know better than anyone how difficult it is to influence the Russian
military and government."
"So what's Elizabeth's angle?" He asked, shutting off the water. "I
can see several ways she can successfully run a campaign."
"Let's hope she can pull it off," he said. "By the way, why was Zara
walking out with one of our plasma rifles? I thought those were for
research purposes only."
"They are," Saudia answered, putting the brush down. "But she
asked me for one for "personal use," I didn't see much of a reason to
refuse. If anyone deserves it, it'd be her. Besides, the aliens will
provide us more weapons if we need them."
He nodded once. "Good. I'd feel left out if Zara killed these UN
puppets without me." She was surprised at how much venom was in
his voice.
She nodded as she walked over to him. Setting one of her hands
over his she looked him in the eye. "I understand. Trust me, you'll
have plenty opportunities to avenge them."
He smiled and swept her up into his arms in one smooth motion. She
rolled her eyes and put her arms around his neck. "You do know I
can walk to the bed myself, right?"
Saudia walked towards one of the rooms that had been converted
into something of a study room. It wasn't uncommon, especially at
the Bastion to find a room that had clearly been originally been
something else. Part of this was that they were in Antarctica and
adding a new room to the Bastion would be a nightmare in terms of
time, resources and manpower.
For her part, Saudia did her best to authorize the requests and make
sure they were on the next supply plane. It was the least they
deserved and nearly almost all EXALT personnel didn't abuse the
system set in place and typically only requested small items. They
were also typically shared if more than one person could use them.
Book swapping was especially common.
At one time she'd noticed an unusable number of games, pool sticks
and other conspicuous objects all being requested at the same time.
She'd approved them, having some idea of what was coming next.
Sure enough, a few days later a request came through for
permission to remodel a rarely used storage room into a game room.
She could understand that. Almost anything was better than dead
silence and true to habit, her son was sitting on the couch, a math
book beside him, a pad of paper on his lap and a pencil in his
fingers. Anyone at first glance would suppose he'd inherited most of
his traits from her, but in all honesty, he'd only inherited her black
skin and hair. His face, eyes and features were almost exactly like
Ethan's.
And right now, a look of frustration was on his young face. She
rapped on the wall with her knuckles several times to get his
attention. He looked up and his face lit up. "Mom!"
Beaming, she strode over to him. "Hey there, got some time?"
"What are you working on?" She asked, looking over his work.
"Math," he grumbled, the sullen look returning to his face. "It's hard."
"Of course not," he sighed dramatically. "Can't you tell me about your
meeting instead?"
"Don't worry," she promised taking his pad. "But let's finish this first.
Now, tell me where you're having problems." With some resignation,
Martel nodded, knowing he wouldn't get anything out of her until they
were done.
So for the next forty-five minutes, she helped him. Math had never
been that difficult a subject for her, so the problems in his text book
were rather trivial. Still, for a child a little younger than eight, they
were difficult enough. After a bit of explaining, Martel eventually
grasped the concepts and with enough practice, she was confident
he'd master them soon.
"Glad to hear it," she told him, ruffling his hair. "But in that case, to
answer your question, all these textbooks… you will likely not use
much of what you learn ever again."
That was apparently not the answer he was expecting. He tilted his
head, clearly confused, but waited attentively. Withholding a
response until she finished, she was pleased he remembered. "The
reason you spend hours on algebra is not primarily about the
material itself," she continued. "But to perfect a way of thinking .
Math teaches you to think analytically, orderly and logically. You want
to perfect this until it not only becomes second nature, it is your
nature."
"You're on the right track," she nodded. "When you take my place,
you will be faced with problems that can't be reduced to a simple
formula. In that case you have to rely on the thought process
required. Gathering information, using the tools given and solving it
in the most effective way."
"I think so," she agreed, standing up. "Come on, I think it's time you
see the control room."
His eyes lit up at that. He was able to move throughout most of the
Bastion, but there were a few places where he wasn't allowed, and
one of those was the control room, the place she coordinated most
of her operations. He eagerly walked beside her as they made their
way there.
"But if they are, why are you being friendly to the aliens?" He asked,
looking confused. "Aren't they here to kill us?"
She sighed, not quite sure the best way to explain it. "I know. But
we're… using the aliens. They can help us achieve our goal."
She smiled down. "Yes, that's pretty close. Once they take down the
corrupt governments of the world, it will allow us to take control."
She was silent for a minute. "Yes," she finally said. "It will."
"Is that why we're called EXALT?" he asked. "Because we're the
uplifted?"
She smiled. "No, that name used as a label to identify us. EXALT
isn't the first name chosen for us, and it won't be the last," she
paused. "Though I do think it's one of the better fitting ones."
"What's she doing?" Martel asked, looking at the photo of the woman
in question. A reasonable question since the information displayed
only said "surveillance." Saudia took a look at the name to recall
from memory what it was.
"Not today," Saudia laughed, picking up a tablet. "All this is live and I
can't risk you accidentally hitting something."
"Hey," she chided, kneeling down and handing him the tablet. "I
didn't bring you all the way up here just to show you the fancy
equipment."
He took it. "What's this?"
She gave him a quick hug. "Alright, enjoy that. I've got some work to
do."
He almost dashed out of the room, eager to look at her gift. She
turned back to the holotable, growing more serious. Time to get back
to work, best see how the psionic subjects were faring.
Annette Durand lay on the bed, struggling to fall asleep in the midst
of the voices clamoring for her attention. Their intensity and volume
rose and fell at seemingly random intervals but they never left
completely. There were always whispers at the edge of
consciousness, sounds that were begging to be understood.
She'd learned that she tended to sleep when they dimmed. The
opportunities were few and far between, but in the end she almost
had no choice as exhaustion forced her into a few hours of blissful
unconsciousness.
It had been a blessing at first. The first day she'd been crying in the
corner, just wanting something, anything, to stop the voices
assaulting her. Eventually she'd fallen asleep and prayed to never be
woken up again.
Yet she had. And the voices were louder and clearer .
She didn't want to know what they were telling her for fear it would
mean she'd finally gone insane. But no matter how much she tried,
words, images and feelings were made clear in her mind. It was only
flashes now, a recognizable word here and there, an intense feeling
for a microsecond, but it was there . And only growing stronger.
The voices were a mix of male and female, younger and older, soft
and firm, a broken chorus of screams, yells and whispers. The first
few days she feared her head would explode from the physical
pressure she could swear was in her head. She'd never had a
migraine before, but she imagined it was something like that.
Sharp, constant pain for hours on end, like getting a screw drilled
into your head slowly enough so every twist could be felt. There
were no words she could describe what the first few hours had been
like. Only screams.
It'd luckily faded slightly after a while. The pain returned when the
intensity of the voices rose, but otherwise stayed at a dull, throbbing
pain. Something she could deal with.
It wasn't just the voices either. There was something else inside her
now. A power within her that she'd accessed for brief moments when
she'd been at her lowest. It was uncontrolled, dark and dangerous,
even to herself. The scars on her arms were proof of that.
But the feeling of utter power had stayed with her and given strength
through the shocks, pain and voices. For a few minutes she'd been
in control and had power over her tormentors. That feeling was more
potent than any drug.
And she was going to learn how to use it.
If these people wanted to prod, shock, stab and torture, she'd turn
what they'd created against them.
With a shout of frustration, she threw off the blanket and began
pacing angrily. It was pointless! It didn't matter what she did it was
only going to get worse! One time she was going to wake up and the
voices would be clear to her.
She had no clue where she was. She had no clue how many people
were here. She had no idea of the layout of this place.
No! She berated herself. Not impossible. You simply don't have
enough information.
She had no answer for that. She had to know what was beyond this
cell first.
Think . Annette paused her pacing, taking deep breaths. How would
Latrell handle this?
There was only one possible advantage: Her abilities. Problem with
that was they were unpredictable. She'd been only able to use them
in extreme periods of stress and was unable to recreate them.
Was it?
She looked down at her arms and hand, tiny white scars covering
them. The skin was warped and twisted as if exposed to fire or acid.
She felt no pain, and retained full functionality of her hands, but the
sensation of her flesh opening up as the power released was almost
unbearable. The only comfort was the rush of euphoria that followed.
She wasn't really ready to risk what remained of her sanity yet.
Annette took a deep breath. Ok. Then the first order of business
would be to learn how to consciously use her power. Each time it'd
happened, she'd been furious at these people and willing to kill each
one of them. Anger. Yes, emotions seemed to trigger it. A good a
place to start as any.
It wasn't difficult to get angry. All she had to do was recall all the
times they stuck needles in her, fed her drugs, forced her into
withdrawal. The way they treated her as some kind of domestic
animal and whose well-being bore no more emotion than an insect
was especially infuriating.
She gritted her teeth as she recalled lying in a pool of puke, mucus
and waste as she went through withdrawal of one drug they'd
injected into her. She'd suffered and writhed for hours until they'd
finally come in and cleaned her up. And she'd hadn't been referred to
even as a person.
She gritted her teeth. As much as she wanted to release the limitless
energy, she needed control . She forced the energy to converge into
her hand. Closing her eyes, she imagined the energy as a purple
mist, flowing around her arm, the power slowly growing into a ball of
light.
The energy itself seemed to let off a corrosive mist that warped the
skin around her arm. She barely felt it and only watched in
amazement as her arm essentially bubbled, melted and reformed in
the span of a few seconds, repeating over and over. As destructive
as the energy was, it also seemed to prevent her from falling apart
altogether.
She curled the fingers of her left hand into a claw shape, as if to hold
a globe or ball. Gather, she thought furiously as the pain intensified.
Converge! Congeal! Stick! Combine! Pretty much every synonym
she could think of to gather the power in one place.
Then it happened.
A little teardrop of energy that slowly grew. The center grew black as
the orb grew to the size of a golf ball. A black hole outlined by purple.
The power running along her body was threatening to unleash itself
and her vision was tinged purple and red.
With a scowl she closed her fist around the orb, everything clicking
into place. The euphoria filled her again, but this time she was in
control. If she'd looked in one of the mirrors she'd seen a woman
outlined in purple flame, energy flowing through her arms, iris's
glowing purple and eye sockets leaking smoke.
Annette Durand was in power and she was going to exercise it.
Turning around, she looked at the sparse furnishings of her cell. A
bed, experiment chair, toilet and showerhead. She curled her lip in
disgust. Her cell had provided nothing but horror and she saw no
reason to hold back.
Thrusting both her hands forward, she released some of the energy
pent up. A purple shockwave tore into the furniture, though not doing
much more than moving it back a little. Not good enough, she
snarled and focused directly on the cot she'd slept on. With a shout
she released a directed wave of energy at the cot which warped and
compressed it into an unusable hunk of metal and cloth.
Not nearly done, she whirled around and zeroed in on the door,
taunting her with the freedom she craved. Raising her hand, she
once again willed the energy to conform and when she could bear it
no longer, shot a bolt of purple energy into it.
It slammed into it with a spark but little else. Her fury growing, she
repeated it again. And again. And again.
And again.
" Open!" She screamed, unable to take it any longer and threw her
fist into the mirror.
Annette sank to the floor, her right hand feeling broken as the power
and euphoria slowly faded, leaving her drained, in agony and
defeated. The wounds that she'd suffered were now fully felt but she
didn't even have the energy to scream.
Her only visible expression of her pain were the tears falling from the
corners of her eyes.
… Lost cause…
… Shipment…
… Brazil…
… Victory or….
… XCOM… strength…
The man and woman who'd experimented on her from the beginning
stood over her, she unable to move.
"I think we can mark this as a success," the man nodded, making a
note on his tablet. "Subject Four displays exceptional abilities when
agitated. I think we can unquestionably draw a link between a higher
emotional state and control over psionics."
"From the wrecks we've recovered, I'd say the majority are for
reconnaissance," Bradford commented, pointing at the holographic
UFO recreation. "Most scanners are unable to detect them and they
are often at extremely high altitudes. Their low crew count and
heavily computerized interiors also suggest primarily non-combat
directives."
The corners of the Commander's lips turned up. "If these are the
non-combative aircraft, I do wonder what their combative UFOs are."
"Laser weaponry should be used," Van Doorn stated. "We have the
technology."
Van Doorn nodded. "We have. We can station some of our Ravens
in NATO's Indian base."
"It's not large," Van Doorn answered with a shrug. "And no one was
supposed to know about it. It was to be used only if the surrounding
regions got out of control. It's isolated enough that very few should
notice our fighters leaving or arriving."
"You approved a Chinese spy," the Commander stated. "I'm not sure
we should allow this."
Bradford frowned. "She was one of the most qualified on the list. I
didn't see a reason to reject her."
Van Doorn pursed his lips. "I do. With the Chinese not exactly…
happy… with us right now, I can see concerns about allowing an
agent of the Ministry of State Security into the Citadel." He looked
over at the Commander. "That is your concern, correct?"
"Well, they did follow the Hades Contingency," Bradford muttered. "I
suppose that would remove most doubts."
"And if she notices something?" Bradford asked. "I'm not sure how
well she'll take that."
"If she does, I'll tell her the truth," the Commander shrugged. "She
should know exactly why she's a security risk. If she doesn't then
that will immediately raise suspicion."
"Yes," the Commander stated. "With Zhang watching her, I feel very
confident she won't try anything and if she does…" he paused. "I'll
give her to Vahlen."
Bradford shuddered. He'd spoken with Vahlen several times and
some of the ideas she had about the application of the MELD
substance had… disturbed him. The Commander had asked for
specifics before he planned on speaking to her, but Bradford had
said Vahlen wanted to show him herself.
"Speaking of which," Bradford cleared his throat. "The first of the, ah,
test subjects have arrived and are being moved to the
experimentation cells."
"I hope you know what you're doing," Van Doorn said, looking at the
Commander grimly. "We're treading on very thin ground here. The
Council would shut us down if they knew what we were conducting."
"No," Van Doorn admitted. "But I'm not sure this is any more right."
"I'll decide that for myself," the Commander stated. "Besides, that's
what the test subjects are for. We find out what works and what
doesn't. We take what works and use it. Simple as that."
Bradford sighed. "I truly hope it works out that way." He glanced over
at the holotable. "In the meantime, we have a location."
"Yes."
Patricia sank into a chair, sweat beading her face as she took a long
drink of water. It was odd, but she didn't feel utterly exhausted even
after a three-hour workout. Tired, yes, but not wiped out. She didn't
know if that should concern her or not, but it was a distraction from
the ever-worsening headaches.
Of course Vahlen hadn't updated her. Which either meant she'd not
figured anything out, or what was affecting her was serious enough
to consult the Commander first. And wouldn't that just be her luck; to
be the first person to be affected by some alien contagion.
She scowled, trying to wrap her head around what it could possibly
be. Alright, do this logically: It probably wasn't a contagion or disease
since there had been others on the Dreadnaught assault. Unless it
was gender-targeted? No, Abby had also been with her and she
wasn't affected as far as she knew.
Furthermore, it seemed like an odd disease if all it did was make her
have headaches, see symbols and have some hallucinatory
precognition. Not to mention she'd not seen any method of
transmission. There hadn't been any strange gasses or liquids she'd
come into contact with. Of course it was possible that it was odor
and colorless, but again, why would she have been the only one
affected?
Hmm… Vahlen's idea that an alien had been communicating with her
was extremely disconcerting, yet it did make some sense. Who else
had the ability to do that? But how-and why -would the aliens be
using power conduits as methods of communication? And how did
they communicate in the first place?
The sectoids could probably utilize some form of telepathy, but they
might not be the only alien species to do so. She suspected it was
tied to psionics in some way, since they'd used it for mental
manipulation in combat several times. So… was she contacted
through psionics?
Oh… oh no. She groaned as a new idea struck her. Perhaps the
reason that the power conduits had started this is that she had
inadvertently tapped into some sort of psionic network. That would
explain the progression of the symbols and meanings as they'd
fought through the Dreadnaught.
Surprise . The alien had been surprised that she had accessed the
network and had instinctively sent the message. Or maybe the alien
hadn't expected anything. Either one would explain it.
Interest . The alien must have figured out she wasn't one of them
and was curious as to who. Or perhaps interested in how an
unauthorized being entered the network. Again, both explanations
would seem to work.
She took a deep breath. There was one thing she needed to know:
whether the network could be accessed by anyone or only psionic
users.
She took another breath. How would that even be possible ? But…
she'd seen something differently on the unlock screens. She'd
known exactly what buttons to press and in which order, as if by
instinct. What if it was designed in such a way that only psionic
individuals could unlock it…?
And that would explain the potential symbol. She had potential to
become a psionic human. Something she hadn't thought was even
possible.
She felt suddenly cold. Vahlen wasn't an idiot, she'd probably had
suspicions judging by how quickly she'd left after taking the brain
scans. And if she was psionic… she didn't know how people would
react; how the Commander would react. He was a fair man, but he
might very legitimately see her as a possible security risk or
someone to detain until they studied her thoroughly.
A finger tapped her shoulder and she started violently. She bit her
tongue to prevent a startled yip, but her heart began racing rapidly
as she looked up to see who it was.
Anius Creed stood behind her, his expression clearly not expecting
that reaction. "Sorry. Thought you would have heard me coming up.
Wasn't trying to startle you, promise."
Calming down some, she shook her head and opened her mouth to
speak and gasped as a wave of emotion washed over her. Regret,
sincerity, apology . Without question she knew she'd somehow
tapped into Creed's emotions. Again.
He didn't look entirely at ease, but he relaxed some and walked over
and sat by her. "Here," he gave her another water bottle and took her
empty one. "I figured you could use it. Even if you were in one of
your trances again."
"Thanks," she gratefully took it and after taking a sip, poured some of
it on her face to cool it down.
"No problem," he answered. "So what did you figure out this time?"
He indicated her face. "When you zoned out. That only happens
when you're trying to solve something."
She didn't really know how she'd explain it in a sensible way even if
she wanted to tell him. He was a fairly smart man, he'd probably
believe her for at least some of it. What she wasn't sure about was
how he'd react to knowing she had somehow felt his emotions
before. That would be… uncomfortable if the roles were reversed,
even if it was something she couldn't control.
"After the Dreadnaught…" she began slowly. "Do you feel any…
different? Changed?"
"In what way?" He asked, shifting to face her better. "I mean, we lost
a lot of good people. People you know longer than I did. I guess it
just made me more determined to wipe out the aliens."
He thought for a second. "No. I'm still the same person, at least
physically. Maybe in a bit better condition, to be honest," he looked
at her with concern. "Why do you ask?"
She shook her head. "Just curious. You were the only one other than
Abby who survived and that was an odd ship. Just wondering if you
were feeling any adverse effects."
"Uh huh," he said with a sarcastic nod. "You see, normally I'd be glad
my superior took an interest in my health, but I do feel it's a little late
since that mission was… hmm… a few weeks ago."
Her cheeks flushed at that. Not exactly the best excuse. "Sorry."
"No need for that," he raised a hand. "Patricia, you're a very bad liar.
What's going on with you?"
She sighed, cursing his concern. "What do you mean? I'm fine."
His tone grew stern. "I don't think so. You've spent an unhealthy
amount of time training and practicing. I can certainly appreciate it…
but you hardly eat, you're not sleeping, or sleeping well at the very
least. You seem constantly on edge and in some sort of discomfort…
if you aren't going to tell me, at least go to Vahlen or that medic.
Because you are not fine."
Patricia leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying to think of
a good response. Everything he'd said was true, but she didn't really
want to talk about it. Her problems were her own and she never
shared them. She was fairly sure he wouldn't be able to help even if
she did talk, but it was doubtful he would let this drop.
She opened her eyes and looked at him, he winced under her gaze.
"Yes. That's it. Suffice to say that I'm well aware of my health and am
taking the steps needed. You have no reason to be concerned. Drop
it."
She immediately felt bad after that. It wasn't his fault, he was just
concerned about her and her response might have been a little
harsh. But as long as it worked. "Apology accepted," she told him
more softly, hoping that would defuse things a little.
Her wristband buzzed and she immediately stood and began moving
to her locker. "Time to work," she muttered as she began donning
her armor.
"What do you think it is?" Creed asked, leaning against the wall and
crossing his arms.
"Good luck," Creed told her as she pulled on her helmet and the
HUD initialized. "Try to not die."
"I'll do my best," she promised, grasping her autolaser. "We'll talk
later."
He nodded and she left the barracks and began walking towards the
hanger. Moving at a brisk pace, she arrived at the hanger quickly. In
a rare occurrence, she was the last to arrive since even the pilot was
there. Fallen Sky, his call sign was. Seeing her enter, he immediately
headed for the skyranger and the others saluted her as she
approached.
She did a quick head count. Almost all of them were veterans and by
now she could tell who was who judging by their armor. Some added
marks or names commemorating missions or fallen soldiers. She
kept her armor clear, but did have three black strips on her arm for
the fallen of the Dreadnaught Assault.
She was outfitted as one of the Scouts, from her flash-bangs and
laser SMG. But what really made her stand out was the German
Shepherd at her feet. The dog was just sitting and looking up at her,
tongue hanging out of its mouth. A black vest with pockets and
unusually thick padding was strapped to the animal, indicating it was
likely combat trained. Odd. Alright, she'd have to question the
woman later, but since the dog was clearly coming along, she didn't
see a reason to pause for questions.
"A pleasure," the woman answered with a nod, her voice clearly had
a middle-eastern accent. "Galia Loeb, Israeli Defense Force, Oketz
Unit." She reached down and rubbed the dog on the head. "This is
Aluma."
"You really think that pup is going to take down a muton?" Friendly
asked skeptically, eyeing the innocent looking dog.
Galia laughed. "No, probably not, but after seeing her rip apart
armored men more times than I'd like to recall, I wouldn't discount
her in a fight." Aluma suddenly got up and walked over to Patricia
who extended her palm for her to sniff.
"She may look cute now," Galia continued, sounding smug. "But you
might change your mind if you ever see her charging towards you."
"I'll try not to antagonize her," Patricia promised petting the dog on
the head. "She seems like a smart girl."
"לבוא," Galia called and the dog immediately trotted back over. Well,
it made sense she'd been trained in Hebrew and not English. "Aside
from fighting, I think we'll be able to find the aliens a little quicker with
her."
Galia snorted. "Trust me, it's harder to actually train the dog to find
what you want. Most dogs just end up chasing a squirrel or
something."
"I can vouch for that," Patricia commented fondly recalling the dog
her family had when she'd been a girl. A golden retriever, he'd been
one of the sweetest animals she'd ever encountered, but he really
was the dumbest animal on the planet when it came to following
directions.
"So you know what to expect?" Patricia asked her, moving to more
practical matters.
"How did they get it?" Sarah asked, confusion in her voice. "XCOM
doesn't share with just anyone."
"Our alliance with XCOM, I assume," Galia shrugged. "I don't know
the Prime Minister and can certainly not speak for him, but I wouldn't
be surprised if he requested the footage for exactly this purpose."
Hmm. That was a good idea. Sharing the footage from the armor
cams for instructional videos on how to effectively kill the aliens was
an ideal use. Patricia couldn't imagine a situation where a military
would refuse an offering like that. XCOM wasn't a secret anymore,
and neither were the aliens… she should probably make a
suggestion.
… En route…
… Florida…
… Laser fire…
I'll be fine.
"Understood," she answered, hiding all the concern she was feeling.
"Do we have a crew count?"
" Likely," the Commander agreed grimly. "The good news is that the
aliens will be equally exposed."
"Do we have any idea what to expect?" Sarah asked, fingering her
laser SMG.
The line went dead. Patricia focused on the map of the area she'd
been sent. They needed to know where the UFO was before making
any battle strategies. "Galia, you think Aluma could find the aliens?"
She could easily imagine the woman smiling. "I guarantee it."
" This is Fallen Sky to Pacer Team," Fallen Sky stated. "We're
approaching the crash area. I'm setting you just outside it. Prepare
for landing."
Patricia stood and unhooked her autolaser flicking the safety off.
"Form up!"
The rest of them complied and with a chorus of hisses and clicks,
readied their laser weapons. Galia stood directly to her right and
Aluma between them. The dog licked her lips as if she knew they
were going hunting. German Shepherds were among the more
intelligent breeds, so she wouldn't have been surprised if that was
the case.
She felt the skyranger swing around, rapidly descending until they hit
the ground with a thud. With a squeal, the ramp descended onto the
short grass without a sound displaying the fields of grass and fences.
Patricia raised her autolaser. "Deploy!" She ordered and charged out
into the hot Floridian sun, the rest of the squad behind her.
Florida
Patricia motioned Galia forward. "Let your dog lead the way.
Everyone else, weapons at the ready."
Each of them nodded and formed a semi-circle around the ramp as
the skyranger departed. Yousef and Friendly knelt to one knee while
Patricia and Myra held their autolaser and rifle at the ready while
Sarah stood between them. Galia reached into a pack on the dog's
vest and pulled out a withered sectoid hand.
The severed appendage had clearly been dried and drained of blood
but Patricia had no doubt it smelled. Clever, the UFOs usually had
sectoids so this was an ideal way to catch the scent; more so than
hoping the mutt picked it up from random sniffing.
Galia knelt by the Aluma and held the hand in front of her nose which
the dog took a few sniffs off. "חפש והשמד, Aluma." She instructed
softly, rubbing the dog's head with her free hand. "מצא אותם."
The dog lifted her nose into the air as Galia stood back up and
placed the hand back into the backpack. "Give her a minute," she
told Patricia. "It shouldn't be long."
While the dog worked on getting the scent, Patricia looked around.
The area was open with large fields holding cows and horses that
grazed and ran without a care in the world. A few lines of trees were
here and there, but they were sparse and couldn't be relied on for
significant cover.
What stood out to her were the scattered stables and houses. Not all
of them could be abandoned, which meant there was a possibility of
civilians. "Citadel Command, this is Squad Overseer Trask, this
seems to be a lightly populated area and we might run into civilians.
Any instructions?"
"Hear, hear," Myra muttered. "But I wouldn't shoot to kill. Maybe just
take the legs off."
Aluma whined and nuzzled Galia's leg. "She's got it." Galia
confirmed as the dog began trotting ahead, turning around for her
master. " לאט,לאט." She chided the dog. " עקוב אחריה.ַי ִצ יב." She
pointed at Patricia
Patricia had no idea what she was saying, but Aluma calmed down
and waited for them to move forward. "You can take point," Galia
said, stepping back. "I've designated you as the leader. She'll lead
you to the aliens."
Patricia nodded. "Keep your weapons up. This is an open area, but
they might have decided to surprise us and take one of the houses."
She looked down at Aluma and motioned forward. "Lead the way,
girl."
Aluma yipped happily and lead them at a steady pace through the
fields. The livestock avoided them for the most part as they hopped
over fences and moved through tall grass. Smoke was in the air now
and she could see it coming over a row of trees. They were just past
one of the houses when the sensation of absolute terror washed
over her and she instinctively swung her weapon around towards the
house at a man aiming a rifle out his window.
The rest of the squad turned toward her and aimed their weapons at
the man whose expression morphed from nervous to terrified.
Instead of letting the emotion pass, she tried holding onto it, looking
deeper. It was more than terror, she got an impression of
nervousness and uncertainty . She lowered her weapon as she
realized what had happened. This man was no threat to them.
Turned up the voice projector she addressed the man. "We are not
here to hurt you. Take your family and lock yourselves in a secure
room. Do not emerge until the fighting stops." She paused. "And
don't point your weapon at us unless you intend to use it. You will not
survive next time."
"He's gone," Sarah breathed. "How did you know he was there?"
"Lucky for him," Myra muttered. "That almost got him killed."
They kept walking until Patricia spotted a gleaming silver thing in the
distance. Immediately, she fell to one knee and raised a fist. The
squad immediately followed suit. "Think I see it," she muttered.
"Dead ahead."
"Yeah," Myra agreed, moving beside her. "With only a sheep pen
between us for cover. The house is too close."
"We could move around, take the house." Friendly suggested. "We
have enough space."
"That would take time," Patricia pointed out. "I'm not sure how much
we have. Not to mention we'll be completely exposed if caught."
"But they will be too," Yousef added. "Unless they have a sniper,
we'd be too far out of range."
"Or they might have taken the house," Patricia guessed. "It's the
most tactically sound thing to do."
Patricia thought about it. Of all of them, she was the one best suited
for scouting, and not just because that was her specialization. "Fine.
We'll begin moving around the side, out of the line of sight to the
UFO."
" The house appears to be empty," Sarah said. "It seems they value
the UFO more."
"Good work," Patricia shut off the squadsight. "Stay there and keep
us updated while we move. We're taking the house if they don't want
it."
" Understood."
They kept moving slowly until they arrived at the far end of the
house. Or more accurately, the side since the front door wasn't
facing them and a swimming pool was in the back. A rather large
swimming pool too.
Friendly aimed his weapon at the window and carefully and quietly
cut it out with his laser rifle. Each of them went inside into a large
bedroom. "Sarah, we're in. Any updates?"
" Nope. Aliens are moving like normal. Though they seem to be
getting antsy."
Too late for them. "Pacer Team, this is the Central. We have satellite
coverage over the area. Sending feed."
"Concentrate on the far one," she finally decided, figuring that would
give Sarah the opportunity to join them. "Sarah, once you hear
fighting, come join us. Carefully, of course."
" Me and Yousef can target the one closest to us," Friendly told her.
"Galia could harass the middle one."
" I could," Galia confirmed. "Though I'm not sure how much
sustained fire I could take."
"We'll be ready to assist after we kill the first one," Patricia assured
her. "Fire on my mark."
She took a deep breath, her heart rate slowing and entered an
unusually tranquil frame of mind. Time seemed to slow as she
suddenly became aware of each person around her and their current
state.
Galia tense, already imagining the plasma fire raining down on her.
Patricia raised her rifle, still feeling in a trance and Myra followed
suit, perfectly in sync. The instant her finger pulled on the trigger,
spitting out red bursts, every soldier began moving, not even
needing her signal. They knew when to fire.
The instant the laser hit the alien, the trance broke and the sounds of
the world returned to her. The combined fire of Myra and Patricia
utterly destroyed the mech which collapsed to the ground. A similar
explosion happen to the right as Yousef and Friendly destroyed
another one.
The aliens reacted instantly and the last remaining mech looked up
and a blast shield deployed over it's face. Without bothering to look
at Galia, it immediately targeted her. Green plasma burst from its
cannons, splintering the walls and forcing her back.
"Understood," Patricia gritted her teeth and peeked out. The mech
was not focusing on Galia, giving her an opportunity to lay down a
barrage of red laser fire. Most of the rounds hit, forcing the mech to
take a step back, it's chest sparking.
Patricia grinned wickedly. Time to die. As another barrage from Myra
landed, she prepared to deliver the killing blow.
Currently invulnerable, the mech raised it's cannons and fired at her
again. She ducked to the side as burning plasma fire rained around
her. "Yousef! Friendly! Status?"
" Overseer, suppress it for a moment," Galia asked. "Aluma can deal
with the sectoids."
Time for that dog to prove her worth. "Go for it!" She shouted,
swinging her weapon out the window again firing at the mech.
"Suppressive fire!" The mech looked up at her, seemingly
unimpressed as laser fire rained around it.
" "!ִל ְת קֹוףShe heard Galia shout and the dog took off.
Aluma charged around the mech and directly into the line of
sectoids. With ferocious barks, the dog leapt at the closest sectoid,
pinned it to the ground and ripped it's scrawny throat out. Without
wasting time, she launched herself at the next one and proceeded to
do the same.
The last two sectoids began scrambling back, firing randomly at the
growling and snapping dog, teeth dripping with yellow blood. Galia
was right, an angry German Shephard was terrifying to behold.
This gave Yousef and Friendly an opening and they sliced the
remaining sectoids to pieces when their backs were turned. The
shield on the mech dissipated and it quickly wilted under the
combined fire of Patricia and Myra.
For some reason, the drones decided now was the time to attack
and began flying over. All of them were quickly blasted out of the sky
by Galia and Sarah. Then the battlefield was silent.
Yousef snorted into his helmet. "If there is one thing that will show up
with UFOs, it's an outsider."
"Agreed," Myra nodded, moving away from the window towards the
door. "There's always-" She shouted in surprise as a crystalline hand
burst through the wall, grabbed her by the armor and threw her
towards the railing overlooking the main living room, showering
plaster and drywall across the floor.
" Can't!" Yousef shouted. "We've got another one out here!"
The alien picked up a dazed Myra by her collar and with seemingly
no effort, leapt towards the opposite wall on the ground and
slammed her into it with a sickening crack. Patricia fired at it but it
simply absorbed the blasts and lowered its hand to Myra's right arm
and fired a beam from it's hand.
Myra screamed as the laser burned into her armor and flesh. The
outsider reached down and tore the arm off, then threw the limb
away. Firing several plasma bursts into her legs, he turned to face
Patricia.
Fury filling her Patricia scowled and leapt off the railing to the lower
floor, not even noticing the height. The objects around her trembled
as she hit the ground, though if she noticed, not from the actual
impact. The outsider seemed surprised by the move and took a step
back.
Not quite quick enough as she unloaded her autolaser into the alien.
It raised it's hand to discharge some of the energy, but she kept
pumping more into it. More lasers joined hers as Sarah and Galia
reached her. The combined power proved too much for the outsider
and it shattered into a thousand pieces.
"I'll draw it's fire!" She yelled, her voice sounding amplified, even to
her. "Surround it!"
She winced as her fire grazed the body, but it couldn't be helped.
This outsider had to die. It would happen sooner or later and the
outsider seemed to realize this. Dropping the body, it began glowing
orange.
A few seconds later a piercing shriek filled the air and then silence.
Waiting a few seconds, Patricia peeked out to see the room filled
with outsider shards, turned into deadly projectiles by the explosion.
Luckily, it seemed no one was hurt from them.
Yousef's body was ruined but aside from that everyone was alive.
Her eyes widened. "Sarah! Myra now!" Sarah dashed over to Myra
who was miraculously still breathing as blood dripped out of the
stump of her arm. It was fortunate the alien had simply decided
putting her out of commission was enough and stopped short of
killing her.
" Acknowledged, Fallen Sky will be touching down within the minute."
Patricia hoped that she wouldn't end up going out like that. Better to
die in battle than live as a cripple. She hoped the Commander would
at least make sure she was comfortable. Actually, what he did didn't
matter. She'd see to it herself.
After-Action Report
Personnel:
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Kills: 1
Pacer 3: Specialist Glenn Friendlein
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Status: Deceased
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Artifacts Recovered:
A/N: Apologies for the massive delay in this chapter. There were a
few technical issues between my beta and I. Good news is that
problem shouldn't happen again and I've also essentially finished the
next chapter which should (Actually) be out within the next couple of
days. Hopefully that makes up for the delay.
-Xabiar
Research and Engineering IV
Research and Engineering IV
"What was that?" Herman asked, eyes still on the screen. The
representative had remained quiet throughout the entire mission,
mostly letting them do their job. Though he appeared completely
enraptured by what was taking place.
"Good," Van Doorn answered, his lip twitching. "We don't want any
more surprise civilians."
"She did," the Commander nodded. "Though it was lucky she noticed
before he shot. It would have ended badly otherwise."
Van Doorn pursed his lips. "He does have a point. Shen designed
the original armor to withstand automatic fire."
"Still, this isn't a criminal we're talking about," Herman pointed out,
resting his hands on the holotable. "That man was probably terrified
and the sight of our soldiers probably didn't help."
"Perhaps not," Herman admitted, his face grim. "But there needs to
be some reevaluation on your civilian protocols. You're not exactly…
considerate towards them."
"Because I'm not," the Commander stated, fixing him with a stern
glare to emphasize his point. "Civilians have no place in war and I
will not change or compromise anything to give them special
treatment. If they interfere with our operations, they will be dealt with.
It's as simple as that."
Herman sighed. "And I suppose that is your way of saying you are
not currently following the UN regulations regarding them?"
"Commander," Van Doorn finally said after he left. "Even if you don't
agree with the UN mandates, it might not be a bad idea to not flat out
say so. It's not exactly… helping ."
The Commander's lips curled into a smile. "An idle threat. The
Council cannot prosecute or remove me for opinions I hold. Until I
actually do something that he witnesses that violates UN regulations,
he has nothing to legitimately threaten me with."
"I still am not sure it's the best course of action." Van Doorn
cautioned. "Blatant disregard will not win him over."
"I would suspect that the UK didn't approve of our attempt to bar the
Chinese from the wreckage," Van Doorn commented thoughtfully.
"They heavily support the UN, so this would seem an unfair
circumvention."
Well that was interesting. Not Russia; of all the countries, they were
emerging as one of the most reliable. No, Japan was the interesting
one. Hmm…"Japan huh. Interesting."
Bradford rubbed his chin. "That it is. They usually play nice with the
Chinese."
The Commander paused. There actually was a way they could open
a full alliance with Japan without worrying about the Council's
response. The only problem was… well, the method itself. The
Council was going to dissolve eventually, it was inevitable, especially
with him in charge and its usefulness was coming to an end.
Perhaps now it was time to begin removing the Council from the
equation. He'd held off discussing it since he wasn't convinced it was
the right time, but this opened the door to convincing Bradford and
Van Doorn that the Council had served its purpose. This wasn't a
final decision, the rest of the Internal Council would have to be here
as well, but Bradford and Van Doorn were key. Shen might be able
to be convinced, but it would be more difficult. Zhang would support
him as would Vahlen. So that meant that Bradford and Van Doorn
were the swing votes, more or less.
Van Doorn blinked, his tone heavy with surprise. "That's… that's very
risky."
"But that might actually work," Bradford murmured, clearly not quite
sure how to feel. "We would have no additional obligation to provide
additional resources to the Council…"
"And gain the support of Japan,"The Commander finished, trying not
to sound too pleased.
"So theoretically," Bradford followed with a nod. "Japan can cite any
reason for leaving."
"There is another concern," Van Doorn stated, his face grave. "This
would open the door for other nations to follow suit, especially if we
theoretically opened an alliance with Japan if they left. Some nations
might consider it an opportunity to gain access to alien tech and
follow suit. If enough nations leave…"
"It could lead to the dissolution of the Council, " Bradford finished
quietly.
"I'm not sure we should risk it," Van Doorn said. "In the theoretical
event that we are even interested in this, I'm not sure losing the
Council is worth it."
Thank you Bradford . "Though even then I'm not sure it'd be
enough," the Commander warned, keeping his tone neutral. Let
them be the ones to convince him. "We run the risk of the countries
focusing on their own military instead of XCOM."
"Which means we'd need to gather additional allies to keep the same
level," Van Doorn advised. "Something we really should do anyway."
And that was a perfect breaking point from this topic. Let them think
about that, the seed had been planted and something like this would
remain at the back of their minds for a while. "I think the rest of the
Internal Council should be here before we continue discussing this
particular topic," the Commander said. "However, I do believe
gathering more allies is important. Let's move to that."
"A good idea," Van Doorn concluded. "Now, I do think there are
some additional allies we could look into."
"We'd have to see how much that would cut into our stockpiles," the
Commander noted. "Three smaller countries instead of a larger
one… it might be worth it."
"You would hold most of the negotiating power," Van Doorn reminded
him. "These aren't exactly world players; generally, they're ignored
most of the time. Quite a few would consider the Commander of
XCOM taking an interest in them as an honor."
Hmm. That had merit and since it was unlikely they would have
much contact with the Council, there was no reason for them to
know exactly what he gave Israel and Germany. They would make
do with what they got. Furthermore, the more countries allied with
XCOM, the better.
"But China might object as well," Van Doorn finished, coming to the
same conclusion as the Commander. "They might use that as an
excuse to either leave the Council or force restrictions on us."
"Except that the only two options were alien rule or human," Van
Doorn pointed out. "This is a strictly human conflict."
"Do it," the Commander ordered. "The sooner we extend our reach,
the better."
"Will do," Bradford confirmed. "I suppose I should get to work now."
"We all should," the Commander agreed. "I have to speak with
Vahlen and Shen. Zhang is also planning a major intelligence
operation."
"I'll help Bradford set up the meetings," Van Doorn said. "My contacts
in NATO should ensure we at least speak with Turkey."
The Citadel
Yep, he was still the Commander all right. Herman was somewhat
surprised the man was so… blunt, but then again, their introduction
had implied as much. He could respect that; in fact, it made his job
easier. The Commander knew this, so it was still odd for him to still
speak openly about his opinions when he was around. Most people
would put up and illusion of cooperation; but not him.
Vahlen was likely one of the smartest people in the world, she
wouldn't have been chosen for XCOM if it were otherwise. But he
wasn't entirely sure she was the right person chosen, especially with
the Commander in charge. Left unchecked she could create
something that might breedeven more trouble.
The glass doors slid open noiselessly as he walked inside and shut
behind him just a quietly. He looked around enviously at the rows of
advanced technology. If only NATO was so advanced, they could do
so much more. But he understood why it wasn't possible; this room
alone probably cost billions of dollars.
A green pod against the wall caught his attention and he walked
over, moving past several working scientists as he approached it.
What was inside startled him. One of the sectoids stared back at
him, the solid, unblinking golden orbs that were eyes making him
uneasy.
Suspended in the green liquid, he wasn't sure if it was alive or dead.
There were no wounds he could see, but he wasn't quite sure how it
was surviving without any tubes or life support.
"I am," she confirmed with a small nod. "I also presume you are
Representative Diederick?"
"I suppose you'd like a tour?" She asked, cocking her head at him.
"The lab is small, but I could improvise."
"Unnecessary," Herman shook his head. "I can look around myself.
Besides, I don't want to interrupt…" he eyed her dirty suit. "Whatever
you're doing."
She actually almost smiled at that. With a glint in her eye, she
motioned him over with a soiled glove. "None needed,
Representative. In fact, you'll gain a better idea of what we're
working towards if I show you."
He complied and followed her through the lab where the scientists in
regular lab coats and attire worked. Unfortunate that chemistry and
science in general hadn't been a strength of his since it would help if
he knew exactly what all this stuff did and what the arrays of
formulas and markings actually meant.
They finally arrived at a sealed room with containing a table with one
of the aliens splayed out with a harsh white floodlight fully
illuminating the body. It was extremely muscular, with pink skin and
was much taller than he was. Probably at least seven or eight feet. It
had four large fingers and toes and an extremely bony and thick
skull. Curiously, it looked like something had been removed from it's
mouth, judging from the cuts and tears.
"Stand back and you'll be fine," Vahlen advised as she placed the
suit helm over her head again. Unlike similar suits, this one's helm
had more in common with a riot helmet than a biohazard suit. It had
a fixed curved glass shield over most of the face and the helm itself
was white and hard.
He frowned. "Why?"
"Simply put, because it's not the only one," she explained without
looking up. "It has another; a backup of sorts. Another reason it's
difficult to kill. I need to know how it works and to do so, I have to
extract both hearts."
Herman walked over and picked up the tabled with lists of formulas
and sentences of English mixed with German. The English didn't
make much sense since every other word was German and what he
could make out either was a generic word or referred to some
concept beyond him. Did she actually expect him to know what this
meant?
Perhaps it wasn't completely her fault. She might just be not used to
interacting with people who weren't as intelligent as her. A trait he'd
seen before in scientists. Still, he wondered how the Commander
dealt with it, provided she treated him the same way. "I appreciate
the offer," he told her, setting the tablet down. "But I really can't…"
He trailed off as Vahlen was now wrist deep in the alien's chest. Her
eyes blazing with intensity, focusing directly on her work, Herman
watched in fascination as she lifted the two hearts out of the chest,
both oozing yellow blood from the severed arteries. The hearts were
connected, though it didn't appear by much, just a couple veins and
valves.
Vahlen delicately placed the hearts into a small glass jar and
Herman heard a quiet hiss and it sealed. Looking very pleased with
herself, Vahlen looked up, a lot more at ease now. "Sorry, did you
say something?"
She stripped off her gloves and removed her helm. "Excellent. Is
there anything else I can help you with?"
"Yes," he nodded his head back towards where they'd come. "That
sectoid. I assume you're using it for something?"
Her face lit up. "Yes," she answered as she began removing the
hazard suit. "That is my other project. I should begin the testing very
soon."
She looked a bit miffed, but just shrugged. "It's simple. A targeted
virus that will kill the sectoid species."
"The usage of this virus will have several useful outcomes," Vahlen
began, ticking the reasons off her fingers. "The most obvious is the
removal of one of the more troublesome species. This will also put
the aliens on the defensive as they try to figure out what's happening
to the sectoids." Her lips curled up. "But what I am personally curious
about is the damage to morale. It will be fascinating to watch the
aliens deal with hundreds of sectoids dying in agony all around them,
helpless to stop it. That would crush the morale of any human army, I
wonder if the aliens will react similarly."
Herman swallowed. "And just… how does the virus kill the sectoid?"
"Of course!" She answered easily. "But half the benefit of this virus is
the psychological factor. Even if the alien forces are emotionless
automatons, their leaders aren't and this might force them to face
their own mortality. Not to mention it will be useful for recruitment
and propaganda. I'd imagine it'd encourage humanity once they saw
the aliens literally melting before them," she raised a finger. "Finally,
this will benefit XCOM as it will show the rest of the world, including
the Council, that we are capable of fully repelling this attack. Once
we eradicate one alien species, we will move on to the next."
He quickly exited the research labs and made for his quarters. Once
he arrived, he sat on the bed, mulling over what he knew and what
should be done. He laid back on the bed, thinking furiously. Shutting
down the project was out of the question; the tactical arguments
were too strong and he, and the Council, risked being labeled as
pro-alien. A label that would call into question the Council's motives
every time they wanted something done.
And that would give the Commander a very plausible and justified
reason to refuse and cause more division. Not to mention he'd likely
be able to do it with the full support of XCOM, further loosening the
Council's influence. No, too risky to cite UN conventions. A
compromise was in order.
He'd given them time to come up with some ideas. Now he was
extremely curious to see what they'd been up to. The engineers were
working hard in the main area, and the sounds of conveyor belts,
power tools and mechanized equipment was as loud as ever. He
paused, looking around for Shen.
After about a half-minute of looking, he still didn't see him in the fairly
open area. Well, instead of wasting his time looking around it would
be better to just ask someone. He approached one of the engineers
that appeared to be welding some kind of… armor? It honestly
looked rather hand-made, not like the rest of XCOM equipment.
Probably a prototype of some kind.
The woman herself also seemed much smaller than normal, more
like a teenager than an adult. He tapped her on the shoulder.
"Excuse me?"
She paused and looked back and started. "Oh! Commander!" Her
voice was much higher pitched and when she took off the welding
mask he saw that his first impression hadn't really been wrong. She
was a teenager, probably no older than fifteen. She quickly set the
welding torch down and dusted herself off, looking up nervously.
"A pleasure, Mrs. Shen," he greeted, extending a hand. "I'm glad you
arrived safely."
"Thanks," she blushed, taking his hand. "I didn't think I'd actually
meet you."
"Oh God," she blushed again. "I'm nowhere near him. One day
maybe, but I'm not my father yet."
"You know Galia?" Lily asked, pulling on a strand of her short black
hair.
"I do," he answered, inclining his head. "In fact, she just returned
from a mission?"
"Is Aluma alright?" Lily asked, her face filling with concern.
Ah, he had an idea what she was doing now. "Aluma is fine," he
reassured her. "She was very helpful as well."
"Oh, good," she sighed in relief. "I'd hate for something to happen to
that sweet puppy." The Commander almost chuckled as he
remembered that "sweet puppy" rip out the throats of several
sectoids. Lily gestured at the armor. "Anyway, this is sort of my
attempt at keeping her safe. That padding she wears isn't going to
protect her if she gets shot. It's not fair that everyone except her gets
special armor."
"Right," Lily agreed with a sharp nod. "That's why I'm trying to make
a set." She glanced back at the armor. " Trying being the key word."
"Only because I'm doing it all by hand; look at this," Lily motioned
him over to another table and pulled out a rolled up blueprint. "I've
already designed it a precisely as possible," she explained as she
rolled it out. "But humans just aren't as precise as machines."
"Hmm." He looked over at her. "I assume this isn't the only project
idea you have?"
"Oh no!" She exclaimed. "Just one of the easiest. I've got a lot more
ideas up here." She tapped her head. "I can show you if you want!"
He nodded firmly. "I am. But your father does have a point about
resources. I'll trust your judgement for now, don't abuse it."
"I won't," she promised vigorously. "You won't regret this. Give me
some time and you'll be amazed with what I can come up with."
"Thank you, Lily," he told her. "Good luck with your projects."
The circular door slid open and revealed a large open room with
three of what appeared to be construction sites of some kind, all with
robotic assembly arms. At both ends were engineers working on
what looked like prosthetics and outlines for suits.
"I am," he answered fondly, a smile on his face. "She's turning into a
remarkable young woman."
"I'm fairly certain she's smarter than me," the Commander said. "Just
so you know, I've authorized her using whatever she needs. She has
some useful ideas and it'd be a waste to exclude her."
"I appreciate it," Shen thanked. "I did consider it, but wasn't sure
you'd feel comfortable allowing a minor using our equipment."
The Commander snorted. "As long as she's competent and doesn't
abuse my trust, I could care less about her age." He eyed the
blueprints. "Now, what exactly have you been working on?"
Shen adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "There are several
topics to discuss. The MELD substance had completely changed the
field of cybernetics forever. I suppose I'll start with the first
developments."
Shen reached over and pulled over a prosthetic arm. It was silver
and clearly metal, but it wasn't a bad recreation. "With MELD, we
can finally create a prosthetic that can fully replicate a body part
without fear of the body rejecting it. Our prosthetics will soon be
indistinguishable from the real thing if progress continues."
"You might have your first patient soon," the Commander said grimly.
"I suppose you've heard of Myra's condition."
"I did," he nodded gravely. "And I'll do my best to help her if she
wants it."
"Yes," Shen sighed. "It's very slow and that makes the one wearing it
vulnerable. A soldier would be severely hampered while using it. This
can be mitigated by increasing the armor and weaponry available,
but that might not be enough."
"Hmm," the Commander rested his chin on his hand. "Is there any
way around this?"
"Yes," Shen hesitated. "But… well, I'll get to that. One way is direct
neural interfacing." Shen motioned to spikes and holes in the armor
where there might be tubes. "Soldiers using these suits will have to
be wearing implants to even move at a reasonable speed. But the
same issue is that there is too much biological interference. For a
suit like this to truly be effective, it must be part of the soldier and not
simply a suit of armor."
"Hold that thought," Shen held up a hand. "One way the EXO-suit
could be reworked is as an augment to the armor we already have. It
would slow the soldiers down a bit more, but not if we decided to
leave it mostly as-is."
"Refine it a bit and I think it'll be useful," the Commander nodded. "I'll
trust your judgment on where you want to take this project." He
looked Shen in the eye. "Now, tell me what else you've done."
The suit stood about ten or eleven feet high and appeared to be a
robotic recreation of a humanoid. Its chest was open and there
seemed to be a space a normal sized human could enter. But the
insides were filled with gears, wires and quite simply, didn't look
remotely safe.
"It's not quite that simple," Shen explained. "This is what we're
calling Mechanized Exoskeletal Cybersuit. Or just a MEC."
"For this to work properly, the brain would have to be made to…"
Shen scowled. "I hate using rely, but it fits best. Rely on the MEC
suit to be whole . It's the cost of allowing the suit to be used as fluidly
as our limbs are now. As a result, the soldier might become…
muddled outside the suit. They'll be lucid, but not completely there
mentally."
The Commander was silent for a few minutes. "This could be a major
asset to our combat operations… but I don't think this is something
that should be mandated. I feel the benefits are too great to ignore,
but I want this program volunteer only."
"Perhaps Myra isn't out of XCOM yet," the Commander muttered. "I'll
have to speak with her."
The Commander saluted him and walked out of the cybernetics lab,
the implications of the MEC program weighing down on him.
Finally, he just stopped and let the treadmill carry him to the edge
and he elegantly leapt down to the floor. He took a sip of water and
sat down, not really winded. Physical activities had never been
challenging for Soran, probably why he'd been selected for Japan's
most physically demanding unit.
He paused a few yards away from her, not wanting to get too close.
Upon watching her style further, she was very coordinated and
precise. Cold would be a better term, detached and mechanical.
Somewhat different that the impression she had given. At least it
reaffirmed his feeling she was dangerous.
"I'm curious," he said, leaning against a wall. "How long did it take to
learn that?"
"Yeah, part of it was with the 707th, the rest was on multiple black
ops units," she answered neutrally. "So you can imagine the training
I got."
He'd never heard of the 707th, but assumed it was a highly skilled
unit. "Ah," he recalled in understanding. "I suppose you were one of
the ones causing North Korea trouble."
She glared at him as she cleaned her blades. "You could say that. I
presume that isn't an issue." Even if it was, her tone of voice made it
clear she would take issue.
"Hmm." She looked away and finished cleaning his blades. "Soran,
right?" She asked, looking up at him, the light illuminating the scar
on her cheek.
"I should hope so," she answered coldly. "My sole purpose is killing
these creatures now."
He paused before continuing. "You really hate them, don't you? And
not in the normal friend vs enemy way."
To his surprise, she didn't seem to take offense or react much in any
way. "An interesting question, Soran. What prompted that?"
" Personal," she mused, her tone neutral though danger underlined
it. "Yes, you could say that . " He noticed her right hand gripped the
blade strapped to her chest. "I could name several instances where
it became personal . Perhaps the bombardment of Hamburg or that
massacre of civilians that followed. Perhaps the fact that our people
are abducted by the thousands for whatever experiments the aliens
are conducting."
He got that reasoning about the abductions, he agreed with it… but
at the same time it was a little hypocritical. Especially since XCOM
was doing the same thing to the alien bodies and captives. But it was
understandable why humans didn't consider that worth mentioning; it
was probably the same for the aliens.
"But for when it actually became personal for me," Carmelita sighed,
her voice softening. "I lost someone I cared about. A lot. He died to
one of the chryssalids; then he was shot again to kill whatever those
creatures planted inside him."
"So am I," she muttered. "But I can't change that. All I can do now is
ensure that the aliens die, preferably slowly and painfully. They
deserve nothing less," She looked up at him. "That answer your
question?"
"Why do you even care?" She asked, resting her arms on her legs.
He shrugged. "I like to know how people think; what drives and
motivates them. I wondered about you, but asking was the only way
to know for sure."
"Hmm," she appraised him. "So what do you think? What are your
feelings towards the aliens?"
"They are the enemy, plain and simple," he stated firmly. "I will do
whatever I can to fight them. Though I can't help but be… curious…"
he glanced over at Carmelita, who was waiting for him to continue.
"They must have some sort of society, history and culture," he
continued. "I do wonder how they function, how they think and
reason."
"I doubt they have much," Carmelita finally said. "I think the majority
are slaves or tools to the sectoids or some other alien overlord. The
mutons don't seem intelligent enough to think beyond a battle, the
floaters are enslaved to whoever controls their machinery, the
chryssalids are slaved to the sectoids and the thin men…" she
paused. "Heartless killers and assassins that are used to fulfill
whatever agenda is set."
"You think the sectoids are the leaders?" He asked, curious and glad
she was at least discussing this.
He shuddered at the thought of torturing a thin man. That was not his
thing. "I'll leave the interrogating to the people in charge."
"A wise plan," she agreed, standing up. "I don't expect you to
understand how I, or the veterans feel, but you will. Everyone who
enters XCOM eventually has their moment when they realize the
only acceptable outcome is the eradication of these aliens. I'll be
curious as to yours. Good day, Soran."
The door slid open and the Commander strode in, hands clasped
behind his back. Zhang and the agents across from him saluted as
he walked by and took his place by Zhang at the holotable. There
were four agents in total, all of which he'd seen or met before.
Ruth Shira, one agent who'd risen very quickly with Zhang and was
one of the best agents in XCOM Intelligence. If she was involved,
this operation was going to be important. Well, he'd known that as
Zhang didn't personally make sure he was at every intelligence
briefing.
The African woman, Akello he'd never personally met, but she'd
proven herself as a skilled hacker and technical specialist.
Kalonymous was another he knew by reputation. He was the best
disguise artist Zhang had and was said to be able to impersonate
anyone. Abby was also here, a woman he hadn't seen in awhile. Her
transfer had come as a surprise, but he trusted she knew what she
was doing, and that Zhang wouldn't take anyone he didn't feel
qualified.
"This is your show, Zhang," the Commander told him, stepping back
to let him take the center. "Begin when ready."
"Of course," Zhang nodded and faced the agents. "This operation
will be the first official one against the entity known to us as EXALT,"
He pressed a button on the holotable and several shimmering
holographic logos appeared. "From intel we've gathered, they
operate through multiple shell companies and our main theory is that
this is how they transfer funds and equipment."
"It will be," Zhang answered firmly. "But we're not moving directly for
the factory itself. Security is too tight and since we don't know the
extent of it, we're going to do this the hard way. Take the identity of
the worker and use it to infiltrate the building."
The image vanished and the holotable lit up with a map. Zhang
pointed at a red dot. "Madvay has been in Paris the past few days on
a vacation of sorts. We're not sure if this is the genuine reason, but
we need to move before he leaves. He visits this bar every night,
stays for a few hours, then leaves."
Zhang looked up at the four of them. "You four will be responsible for
gathering his company ID and any other information on him. The
more you gather, the more airtight our infiltration. How you do this
will be largely up to your discretion, but we need his ID."
Ruth nodded. "Abby and I will conduct the actual operation. Between
the two of us, I'm sure we can get him to show us his ID," her eyes
twinkled mischievously. "Guys like to brag."
"I'll secure the cameras and security systems," Akello said, looking
around. "They won't even know we're there."
"Of course," Kalonymous flicked his wrist lazily. "I'll stick outside as
one of the locals. Watch for anyone suspicious and provide backup if
needed."
"We'll scan the area before moving on him," Ruth answered. "I know
what to look for. Akello can also watch the cameras for any
suspicious activity."
"Once you have the ID, then what?" The Commander asked, looking
at Zhang.
Ruth looked at the other agents. "I guess we're ready when you are."
"Good," Zhang stated. "Because you're moving out now. Good luck."
Each saluted Zhang and left the room, leaving the Commander
alone with him. "A good plan," the Commander complimented.
"Though I hope Abigail will not compromise anything."
"She'll do fine," Zhang reassured him. "With Ruth looking out for her,
I'm confident this will go well. I'm not anticipating much resistance, at
least for the first part. It's the factory infiltration where things will get
interesting."
"He'd just deny anything," Zhang warned. "He's smart and if you go
without anything to back it up, you risk losing his support. Nowinski is
one who would do that."
"The only plan that would work is a full operation on Israel," Zhang
stated grimly. "Something I've been seriously considering of late."
"The loyalty of my agents is not what concerns me," Zhang shook his
head. "If anything, they'll want to know what's going on as well. They
are part of XCOM now and if Israel threatens to put us at risk, they
are now a threat to eliminate."
"They believe their work will be the reason we ultimately win or lose
this war," Zhang said. "Being responsible for the human race quickly
turns ones viewpoint to the bigger picture. Why remain completely
loyal to one nation when the world is at stake?"
"I ordered them and they obeyed," Zhang explained easily. "I'd
already been building up their importance in their head, but what I
think helped was that each of them had a persona to play. It's
psychologically easier to carry out an act like mass murder as
someone else; giving them false identities, disguises and personas
helped make it feel less… real."
"It helps that a good portion of agents are Kidon," Zhang agreed.
"People are more inclined to follow the crowd, even if the act is
questionable. It's no different with agents. It's why I always include
several Mossad of Kidon agents with the others. After a few
operations, they don't question it and follow orders without question."
"That it is," Zhang agreed with a nod. "It's a delicate process, but I
feel that the current method is working. Abby will be a test of this
theory."
Interesting. "Is that why you wanted her? To see if you could change
her?"
"Partially," Zhang corrected. "I meant what I said. She has the
makings of an excellent agent. But emotionally and psychologically?
She's a questionable pick at best. She's a doctor, compassionate,
kind and empathic. Not useful traits."
"So you paired her up with one your most ruthless agents," the
Commander nodded. "You think it will work?"
"I'm curious," Zhang admitted. "With Ruth, I think she'll relate well
with her and that will be essential in influencing her. But I think she
will change eventually. I have some ideas to encourage a more…
emotionless approach."
The Commander left the room, leaving Zhang looking over the map
of Israel, plotting his next move.
Patricia took a breath and tilted her head back and let the warm
water rush over her. She needed something to stop her from
shivering from cold. There was so much that had gone wrong and so
much that had happened that she didn't know what even to think at
the moment.
She was affected with something, and psionics or no, it was only
growing stronger and worse. The headaches had worsened as
they'd flown back, several times she'd suppressed screams as she
physically felt the pain Myra was dealing with. It was only flashes,
but it was enough to drive someone mad.
Now she could swear she was hearing voices that didn't exist. Words
appeared in her mind, broken and incomprehensible… but she
understood them. That wasn't, or shouldn't be normal. And what had
happened when she'd launched the attack… they'd all followed her
lead without her saying so much as a word. Almost as if she exerted
some sort of influence on them… and the fact she'd simultaneously
tapped into all their emotions at the same time seemed to reaffirm it.
She didn't know why, but everything had toned down now. But if the
past few days were any indication, it would come back eventually.
For once in her life, she didn't know what she could do. She'd
considered going back to Vahlen, but was worried she'd be pulled or
dismissed from duty and that wasn't something she wanted
anymore. She couldn't afford to sit out while scientists pored over her
since they would probably find nothing useful.
But she had to figure this out. By herself if need be. If she was
psionic, there had to be a way she could control it or at least
suppress it. She shut off the water and leaned forward against the
wall, hands extended. Yes, that's what she'd do. Try to figure this out
on her own and if nothing improved… she'd go to the Commander.
He'd decide what to do with her then.
She stepped out of the shower and got dressed, wincing as a sharp
pain in her head appeared and vanished just as quickly. It would
probably start again soon. Pulling on a simple navy blue t-shirt she
gasped as a wave of interest gripped her. Normally it would vanish a
few seconds later but she wanted to try something.
Leaning against the bathroom sink, she looked into the mirror and
instead of letting the emotion go, she focused on retaining it. The
instant she focused on it a series of images hit her.
Patricia leapt back in shock as she noticed her eyes. Instead of their
normal brown, her iris were a glowing purple. Upon closer
inspection, it looked like there were borderline microscopic veins
spider-webbing on the eyeball also pulsing a faint purple all leading
to the iris. As soon as she lost whatever connection she'd had, the
glowing slowly faded, leaving her eyes their original color.
She shuddered. That… she needed to be careful of triggering that
again. Of course, she wasn't entirely sure what had caused it.
Perhaps actively focusing on the emotion instead of letting it pass?
This needed more experimentation.
Actually… she had an idea. Something that might help her figure this
out. It might be worth asking him although she'd be relying on his
discretion.
She exited the bathroom, calmer now that she had a plan, no matter
how tenuous.
"Yes?" She answered, wondering what this was about. The woman
bit her lip.
"How are you doing?" She finally said. "You seemed in pain on the
way back."
Ah, so she'd noticed that. "Just have been having migraines lately,"
she answered, providing some truth as she shrugged. "Guess the
stress on the mission was enough to trigger another one."
This wasn't good. "What?" She asked, curious what Sarah had
noticed.
"When you… jumped," Sarah emphasized with her hand. "From the
second story to attack the outsider. When you landed… something
came out of you. It was like a purple shockwave or something."
That was something she hadn't noticed, though she'd not really been
paying attention to her surroundings at the time. "What?" She
frowned. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," Sarah nodded firmly, putting a USB drive in her
hands. "I looked at the armor cam footage. It's faint but it's there."
She paused. "I don't know how much you know or not… but you
need to talk to someone to figure this out. I'm no scientist, but that
shouldn't be possible."
"I'll do that," she promised, thankful that was all she apparently had
to say. "Thank you."
Well… her current theory was plausible. However, Patricia got the
feeling that it wouldn't make Sarah feel any better. At least she
wasn't accusing her of reading her mind or something.
Pocketing the USB, she continued walked through the barracks until
she spotted him reading a book. "We need to talk," she stated bluntly
to Creed, not really caring how it came out. To his credit, he
immediately put the book down and sat up.
She motioned him to follow her. "Not here." She heard him sigh as
he got up to follow her. She pondered where they'd go to have a
decent amount of privacy. The Training Area should be pretty empty
at the moment; yes that'd do.
"Alright," Creed finally said, leaning against the wall and crossing his
arms. "I assume this is important?"
She sighed and leaned back against the wall. "Depends on how
important you consider me. Suffice to say I consider it important."
Creed nodded and motioned for her to continue. "So what's this
about?"
Patricia took a breath. "You were right when you noticed something
was off about me."
"I did say you're a terrible liar," he reminded her with a small smile.
"I don't," she scowled. "But ever since the mission I've been able to
know things I shouldn't, predict who's going to be somewhere when I
shouldn't. Feel emotions that aren't mind. Words appear in my mind
without context or meaning. If I focus, I can see glimpses of… I don't
even know yet… memories or thoughts."
Creed just listened, in disbelief or not she couldn't tell. But he was
taking her seriously and not interrupting, which helped since she had
to pause a lot to find the right words. She wasn't a fan of prolonged
one-on-one conversations, especially when she was doing most of
the talking.
"So now you know," she finished, sliding down the wall until she was
seated on the ground, and wrapped her arms around her knees. "So
how close was your guess?"
" Nowhere near anything like that," he answered slowly, shaking his
head. "So… just how much can you… sense?"
She hesitated. "It's usually just one emotion at a time. Like anger, joy
or terror. Normally it's not more than that. Though if I try to go
deeper, it becomes clearer. Sort of."
"Shouldn't you talk with Vahlen or the Commander?" Creed asked. "I
appreciate you telling me… but I'm not sure how much I can help
you with."
"I went to Vahlen," Patricia reminded him. "I think she knows I'm
psionic, but isn't telling me for some reason. Aside from that, I don't
want to get pulled from active duty. A bunch of scientists are
probably not going to be able to cure me."
"So why tell me?" Creed asked curiously, cocking his head. "You
didn't exactly seem open to it last we talked."
She hesitated, not sure how much she wanted to say. She finally
shrugged, she didn't see a point omitting stuff especially if he
agreed. "I didn't know how you'd react. I don't know…" she scowled.
"I guess I figured you'd find it very invasive if I told you I could read
your emotions, even if it wasn't my fault."
"Yeah," she admitted. "For a while it was only you for some reason.
But lately I'm beginning to do it with others."
"Ah," he looked away. Mixed emotions on his face. She prayed her
abilities didn't strike now of all times. Luckily, it didn't.
"I'm sorry," she tried apologizing. "But it just happens… I can't control
it."
"I know," he sighed. "It's just a little disconcerting. There are things
that should remain private. For someone to be able to penetrate a
mind like that…" He shook his head. "It's scary."
"I know," she nodded, heart sinking. "But it's the same for me. I
never wanted this."
"Probably not," he agreed, looking back at her. "But you have it now
and I doubt it's going to change. So," he shifted to face her. "What
are you planning? You do have one, correct?"
"Yes," she nodded, pushing a strand of her chestnut hair out of her
face. "I want to try and learn to control this. It's the only way things
will get better. I either need to control or suppress it," she paused. "If
that fails, I'll go to the Commander and let him decide what to do."
She hesitated, then looked him in the eye. "But if I really want to do
this, I'll learn much faster if I have someone to practice on."
He got it. "You want to practice on me, " he stated with surprising
calm.
"I don't want to," she answered emphatically. "I know what I'm asking
and I wouldn't if I felt I could learn as quickly some other way. You
don't have to agree either," she added quickly. "I'll figure this out on
my own if you don't want to. But if there's anyone I'd trust to do this
with, it's you."
He looked over at her. "Well, I'm flattered you think that of me,
really," his tone turned wistful. "But… I suppose it's more of a
personal thing for me. You'll probably learn things I've tried to keep
under wraps," he looked away. "I don't talk much about myself for
good reasons."
She also looked away. "I understand. I do and won't press further."
"I haven't refused yet," he reminded her seriously. "I'm thinking, not
just for myself, but for you. Go into my head and you might not come
out as well as I did," he shook his head. "I don't know if this goes
both ways, but it's a risk you should know."
Patricia looked over at him. It occurred to her she actually knew very
little about him. She'd never asked about his past and simply
discussed the present and things they had in common. He'd never
given the impression that he was carrying any sort of baggage.
Although now that she thought more about it, that was probably
deliberate and he'd just gotten very good at it.
"I guess that depends if you want to risk letting me see or not," she
finally told him. "I'm willing to risk it if you are."
She swallowed, wishing he had some way of knowing how much that
meant to her. She knew she was asking permission for her to view
his entire mind, and most people would refuse. Good, honest people
at that. There was little she could think of that was more selfless than
that, and just to possibly help her. It might even ultimately fail, but he
was willing regardless.
"Ok," he nodded and flicked his eyes down. "You can let go of my
arm now."
"Right," she realized she was still holding it firmly and let it drop.
"Thank you again. I know how much I'm asking."
So did she.
The doors hissed open as the Commander walked into the Research
Labs. Everything was as he remembered, although there were a few
more scientists than the last time he'd been here. A result of
additional staffing and recruiting by himself, Bradford and Van Doorn.
XCOM would soon be one of the largest scientific institutes in the
world if recruiting kept up a steady pace.
Still, he didn't see Vahlen anywhere, which mean she was probably
in the new Genetics Lab. To avoid a repeat of the Engineering Bay,
he'd looked to see where the lab was installed and was pleased that
it had been done discreetly. Walking up to the far wall, he lifted a
simple black panel and placed his hand on it.
There was a satisfying click and the wall slid back, revealing a short
hallway further in. The instant he walked past the doors, they shut
behind him. Interesting. The hallway was well lit and he kept walking
until he reached another automatic glass door which slid open upon
his approach.
This was what he assumed was the Genetics Lab. It was fairly open,
with workbenches, vials and other lab equipment scattered
throughout in no particular order. The one difference being that much
of the equipment looked much different than what was in the
Research Labs. Probably specific genetic equipment.
In the back of the room was an odd contraption. Giant glass tubes
tinted yellow, probably able to fit a large adult, were arranged in a
circle and attached to a machine that seemed to be able to rotate
them around. Other chairs were nearby, equipment with needles and
monitors attached to them. The Commander didn't fail to note the
restraints on them.
Something caught his eye and he walked over to a glass case and
started when a massive spider jumped out at him. He scowled as the
spider scurried around in it's makeshift habitat of dirt and leaves. Out
of all spiders, he hated tarantulas the most because they were so…
furry. He shivered as he watched that thing scurry away into it's little
habitat. What the hell was Vahlen doing with those things?
For that matter, why were there other animals in the lab?
The Commander set the cat down. "As am I," he answered with a
smile of his own. "I'm very curious as to what you've been doing."
"The MELD substance had redefined genetics as we know it,"
Vahlen stated, eyes shimmering. "Thanks to it, I think we can
improve and modify every part of the human body. We can mold the
human body into whatever we wish, with enough time and
resources."
Well, that sounded promising. "So, I assume you have some ideas
on genetic modification?" He asked. "And may I ask why that," he
pointed at the spider, "Is within the Citadel."
The Commander narrowed his eyes. "Bring that near me and I'll kill
it."
Vahlen gave a dramatic sigh. "Oh fine," she set the spider back
down and brushed herself off. "But as much as you scoff, that spider
is the basis for one of my ideas."
"Yes," she nodded emphatically. "You know how spiders are able to
climb walls and ceilings so easily?"
"Don't they have little tiny claws that hook surfaces?" the
Commander recalled, thinking back to facts he'd learned decades
ago.
Ah… that was rather brilliant. He felt that an ability like that would
especially come in handy for XCOM Intelligence agents. "You really
think you could do that?" He asked. Then shook his head. This was
Vahlen, if she had an idea she'd make it work, somehow.
"Right," Vahlen walked over to the cage of the bald eagle. "Human
eyes are suitable, but compared to birds of prey like the hawk and
eagle, they don't even match up. They can see up to six or eight
times better than us. I shouldn't have to state the advantages of
soldiers with hawk vision."
She smiled. "Already have, I believe you already met my feline test
subject," the Commander looked down at the cat nuzzling Vahlen's
leg. "Unfortunately, I haven't been able to combine enhanced
eyesight with night vision yet," Vahlen admitted. "It's either-or at the
moment. Though in the future and with additional test subjects, I
think we'll be able to overcome that limitation."
"They could still risk getting injured," Vahlen cautioned. "But it will be
much safer. Now, the thin man is highly resistant to toxins thanks to
this gland," she pointed at the thin man with his throat ripped open.
"That is another advantage we can give our soldiers. We could use
chemical non-acidic weapons without fear of blowback."
"How so?"
"This was a creature bred for conflict," Vahlen explained, her face
reverent. "It's skin is resistant to small blades, arms and chemicals or
fire. I can see some very practical applications of this for our
soldiers. They need all the protection we can give them." Vahlen
walked over to a table and picked up a jar containing two… hearts.
"But what I found interesting is why the muton is more difficult to kill,"
Vahlen continued, bringing the jar over for him to observe. "It has a
natural backup system. A secondary heart in case the main one is
injured or fails. I think we could also apply this to our soldiers, it
might reduce our casualties significantly."
"That they did," Vahlen nodded, her lips curling up. "It will be a
pleasure to bring some worth to those wastes of human life."
"In the testing cells," Vahlen hooked his arm in her own and guided
him towards the far right wall. Well, he wasn't going to complain.
Vahlen put her hand on another pad and a door similar to the
Genetics Lab entrance opened, revealing a blindingly white room.
There were twenty cells in total. All with thick glass walls and doors
extending to the ceiling, allowing the test subjects to see each other.
The room gleamed from white paint and harsh white lights. Each cell
had a toilet, but no bed, just a blanket. White tile covered the floor,
except for the drains in the cells and walkway.
The room seemed sterile and it would be, if not for the prisoners
filling the cells. With one exception, all were men of various sizes
and ages. Some were tattooed, others not. Some fit the stereotype
of murderous prisoner and others looked completely normal. But the
Commander wasn't fooled. These were all dangerous individuals
who had committed horrific crimes and deserved no mercy.
"I'll give you one chance," the man hissed, utter rage in his voice.
"You let me out now and I'll make sure your death is quick." The
Commander raised his eyebrow in amusement as he continued
ranting, struggling not to smile at the utterly ludicrous statements
coming out of his mouth. Vahlen walked over beside him, also
observing the man
"I swear I'll get out," he continued furiously. "Then I'll kill you, then
that Nazi bitch!"
She reached up and her hand covered his. "You have no control
over him," she said softly. "And I suppose I should get used to it."
Her face hardened. "He'll be saved for last. There was a reason I
had the cells made of glass. They will learn respect soon enough."
She took a breath. "I'm going to get started within the day. I should
have some results soon after."
Vahlen pursed her lips. "I did; take a look at this." He walked over
until her was directly behind her and looked at the screen. It showed
two skulls, both with odd waves coming out of their heads.
"I believe she came into contact with alien technology on the
Dreadnaught Assault," Vahlen answered. "It must have… awakened
her."
"Not at the moment," the Commander shook his head. "Focus on the
gene mods. If things worsen or change with her, I'm sure she'll come
to me or you. Though I might have Zhang check up on her every
once in awhile."
"I'll let you figure it out," Vahlen told him. "You're better at these
things than me. I'll just get distracted by something I've forgotten."
"You might want to get that in writing," she suggested lightly. "But
don't worry. I'll look forward to it."
She looked up. "Rouladen," she finally said. "It was always my
favorite back in Germany."
Vahlen put her tablet down and took his hands in her own. "I should
thank you," she said softly. "We wouldn't have made it this far
without you. You've allowed me to do so much more than I could
have ever imagined."
The Commander stood there, just enjoying being near her. He
reluctantly let her hands down. "I should let you get back to work," he
told her quietly. "I'll speak to you soon."
"Of course," she cleared her throat. "I'm looking forward to it."
He left her to her work, feeling more optimistic about the direction
was war was about to take. The next evolution of the human soldier
was coming and he suspected the aliens had no idea what was in
store for them.
Setting the Trap
Setting the Trap
Saudia smiled as she looked out the window. It had been a long time
since she'd had any professional reason to visit Seattle, so in a grim
way, she was glad Matthew had requested her to visit. She did want
to wander around the city a bit, but was anticipating that business
would likely take all her available time here.
The Chronicler was going to be the one who went sightseeing this
time. Sitting beside her in regular civilian attire, he would easily blend
in with the crowd and was going to be taking a few weeks to… do
whatever he planned. She didn't fully know what he intended to
accomplish, but he'd assured her he only wanted a few weeks. It
was a possible security risk, of course. But given that he'd done
similar excursions this in the past without incident, she knew the risk
was low.
The taxi they were riding in pulled to a stop and she looked out the
window up at the headquarters of Solaris Industries. A modest sized
skyscraper in comparison to the rest of Seattle, it was nevertheless
an impressive building with the slightly shaded glass windows
encasing it. A near literal glass palace. There were no distinguishing
marks on the building itself, except the company logo near the
bottom.
Saudia shrugged, it was his choice and she had work to do. Opening
the door, she stepping out into the bright sunlight. Clouds on the
horizon indicated a storm coming soon, but she'd be inside long
before it hit. She'd paid the driver in advance, so he drove off a few
seconds later.
"So long, Saudia," the Chronicler said, putting on his sunglasses. "I
hope your meeting is productive."
"So do I," she answered with a nod. "Come back here when you're
finished. Matthew will make sure you get back to the Bastion safely."
"I know," he assured her with a smile. "Now, I have some things to
do." With that he walked off into the crowd which was slowly
becoming larger. Taking a closer look at the participants, she found it
mildly interesting that it was a fairly diverse group. Many times,
protesters ended up being largely one demographic or another. This
particular groups seemed a healthy mix of black, white and Hispanic
ethnicities.
The crowd had completely taken over the front and she saw twelve
Solaris guards guarding the entrance with their hands clasped
together in front and in firm stances. They wore a variation of their
dress uniforms, black suits and pants. They closely resembled the
American Secret Service, minus the sunglasses, which had not
doubt been a deliberate choice by Matthew. They lacked the
bandanna for obvious reasons and instead of displaying the EXALT
emblem, there was instead the Solaris emblem.
As they were registered security, the guards were armed with Solaris
pistols and additional non-lethal riot control measures. Legally, they
could wield assault weapons, but Matthew had decided against that
as he felt it would only escalate matters. It was also an image and
political matter for him as well, since he was seen as one of the more
reasonable people within the whole gun debate. Arming his security
with automatic weapons would at least give the impression he was
choosing a side; making it extremely difficult to keep his position
neutral, as he'd intended.
Now, the guards had nothing to fear if the crowd got out of control.
They had full license to defend themselves and the headquarters by
any means with the full legal backing of Solaris Industries. Saudia
had no doubt two or three Solaris guards could handle this crowd
with the right equipment, let alone twelve. Not to mention that the
building security included deployable turrets in the event of an
emergency.
She decided going along the far side would attract the least amount
of attention so she carefully made her way around the shouting
crowd and approached the guard. "Authorized personnel only," he
told her as she approached.
His eyes widened, but otherwise didn't react. She admired his
control. "Apologies, Director," he greeted, inclining his head. "You
may enter. Do you require an escort?"
"I'll manage," she shook her head, eying the crowd going more
agitated. "Besides, you have enough to deal with."
The barest glimmer of a smile crossed his lips. "I would be more
concerned for their safety, Director. If they continue to grow and think
they have a numbers advantage, we'll have to put a few more down."
"Then for their sake, I hope they calm down," she muttered, looking
into the crowd. "Might I ask what brought this about?"
She inclined her head. "Thank you, Brandon. Matthew will hear of
your service."
With that she walked into the building. The reception area was
standard, tile floors with marble tables and desks resting on top.
There was some furniture in the lobby, but nothing she really felt the
need to examine closely. Very little manufacturing took place here
and was instead mostly used for administrative purposes, but she
knew Matthew had several floors dedicated to research and
development.
But she figured he would be in his office and headed to the elevator
that would take her there. He'd put it at the very top, so it was
several minutes before she finally arrived. Stepping out into the
carpeted hallway, she tried recalling the way. Yes, directly at the end
if she was remembering correctly.
Matthew had made his office take up about half the floor, though
admittedly, only a fraction was actually "office" space. He'd
essentially made his house here and the rest of the space included a
bedroom, bathroom and a small kitchen. So she approached the
entrance rather quickly.
The white lighting illuminated her alabaster skin and raven hair even
more. Despite her demeanor, she did have a kind face behind her
foreboding weaponry. Bright eyes, unblemished skin and her lips that
showed dimples whenever she smiled contrasted with the woman in
combat gear.
"Hello to your too, Lidia," Saudia returned with a smile. Lidia Solaris,
Head of Solaris Industry Security, former SWAT officer and wife of
Matthew Solaris inclined her head in response.
"Matthew is inside," she told Saudia, turning to open the door. "I
presume you know the way to his study?"
"I am," Lidia answered, adjusting the grip on her rifle. "Although I do
think Riley is more interested in the business side of things. Matthew
and I've been talking of including her in the business more."
"If you think she can handle it, let her," Saudia suggested. "Never too
young to start."
"That's where we're at," Lidia agreed with a nod. "But we'll see."
"It was," Lidia agreed, resigned. "Sadly, our duty comes first.
Hopefully once we remove XCOM and the aliens, things will calm
down."
That was the hope, though even with XCOM and the aliens gone,
they'd still have to reestablish control over the rest of the world. A
task that would likely end up being even more time consuming. Well,
they had a lot to do before even beginning to consider that. Saudia
walked into the official office and took the first door on the left.
A holotable sat in the middle of the room, Matthew standing beside it,
looking down at what was displayed. Across from him, on the non-
bookshelf side were several large screens displaying either
information or American news channels. All were muted at the
moment as Matthew had his attention elsewhere.
As she got closer, she saw the holotable was displaying a map of the
United States, different states variously colored for some reason.
Matthew turned as she approached and smiled. "Director!" He
greeted jovially. "Glad you made it."
"I wasn't sure," she joked as she walked up beside him. "You have
quite a crowd outside."
Saudia shook her head. "So tell me, what's going on? One of your
people, Brandon, told me a bit but said I should speak to you."
"This particular situation stems from the deal Solaris Industries just
signed," Matthew answered, rubbing his forehead. "I presume
Brandon told you?"
"It would be, but you haven't visited the states in a while," Matthew
agreed, shaking his head. "Though the reason this all started was a
string of instances of police officers shooting unarmed, or
surrendering suspects. Most of them were minorities and that alone
stirred people into a frenzy. Several went viral on various social
media sites and within days thousands of people are calling for
justice for the slain victims."
"I assume there's another side to this?" Saudia asked, looking down
at the holotable. "The pro-police side or some such equivalent?"
She knew he was telling the truth. If there was anyone who
embodied neutrality, at least publicly, it was Matthew and Solaris
Industries. Unlike most weapons manufacturers, his political
affiliations were surprisingly bipartisan. He had surprised the media
by being the only national weapons manufacturer not to become
affiliated with the NRA and the Republican Party. Several times he'd
backed legislation which he felt, and publically stated, was
necessary and smart.
She was once again thankful he'd declined to participate in the Rex
Fecit when her predecessor had resigned and instead stated he
wanted to focus on increasing EXALT's influence over North
America. She'd have hated to kill or discredit him, if she'd been able
to at all. Matthew, along with Elizabeth, were the only two within
EXALT who she felt would have been able to beat her for the
position of Director.
But luckily, neither of them had decided to take part, letting their
brothers and sisters try for the position of Director. Had the families
not been forbidden from intermarrying, she was positive that she'd
have chosen him as her husband. He was principled, intelligent and
above all, believed fully in the goals of EXALT. Though if she had,
she'd never have gotten to know Ethan and that would be an even
greater loss. Regardless, Lidia was a lucky woman.
This issue regarding the police was interesting, but there was one
question she had. "Why is this getting traction now?" She
demanded. "I'd have thought an alien invasion would limit this sort of
public unrest."
"Simply put, because they have yet to feel the effects of an alien
attack," Matthew explained. "They've been spared major attacks so
this whole issue is… I don't want to say a foreign affair, but it's the
best description of their outlook." His lips curled up. "It also helped
reassure the people that the situation was under control when
Germany beat back the alien influence and the alien dreadnought
was destroyed."
Saudia frowned. "Are you certain she wasn't mentally insane when
she did this? The courts won't give the death penalty if she is."
"I'm glad you asked," Matthew told her his tone artificially light,
walking over to his desk and pulled out a file. "Fortunately, I know
quite a few doctors who are willing to take the stand and ensure any
insanity plea fails. And in the event that it doesn't…" he shrugged.
"Accidents happen in prison and there are many who would do what
the courts are too cowardly to carry out."
She understood the sentiment, even if she personally considered it
harsh. "I'm sure life in prison is harsh enough," she said, not quite
willing to completely endorse him.
Saudia felt immense sadness at that. "Who were they?" She finally
asked.
"Yeah," Matthew sighed. "But what really made the news was how
the police responded. That black supremacist group no longer exists.
They arrested nearly everyone and shot the rest. This was done in
conjunction with the National Guard as well."
"So," Saudia walked around the table until she was facing him. "The
big question: How can we use this?"
"There are two paths open to us," Matthew explained, shutting off
the holograms displaying the headlines and replaced with images of
people who she was unfamiliar with. "Both hinge on the upcoming
presidential election. Campaigning will begin in the coming months
and both sides are outlining their respective agendas."
"The election itself isn't until next year, correct?" Saudia recalled,
looking at the pictures. "This seems early, even for American
politics."
"Of course," Matthew looked slightly miffed that she even asked that
question. "There are five candidates, two Democrat and three
Republican who I believe have the best chance."
He raised a finger. "But first, I'd better explain the paths open to us.
The alien invasion is going to be a central campaign issue, one both
sides will try to say they'll handle better than the opposition. The
Republicans are going to push this as far as they can; the
Democrats will make it central point as well, though I feel they can
be influenced to focus more on domestic issues."
He looked at her. "So, the decision the must be made is what kind of
America will be most useful to us. Our alliance with the aliens will not
last and when we make our move, it would be best if we were as
ready as possible to repel them."
"I doubt the public would like that," Saudia commented. "Americans
in particular are rather finicky when it comes to their freedoms, even
when it's for their own good. Although," she looked up in thought.
"Fear is a powerful motivator."
She smiled as she saw what he meant. "I'd imagine the aliens would
see the benefit of striking one of the most powerful nations. Though I
expect there's a downside here."
"By making things worse." Saudia stated, getting an idea what his
plan was.
There was merit in this idea. "We'll have to pick our targets carefully,"
she warned. "How sure are you that this would work?"
"That they do," Matthew agreed. "And no fear. I knew enough people
to ensure that these continue happening. Those targeting minorities
are the most impactful."
"If we're looking for more violent protests, which is the most
militant?" She asked.
"Simply put, as long as the aliens avoid America and the domestic
situation worsens, that should be enough to put a Democrat in
charge," Matthew continued. "And we get someone elected who will
do whatever it took to fix the situation. And to make any meaningful
change, they would have to either amend the constitution or use
executive orders."
"Ah, but that's exactly the point," Matthew explained with a smile.
"Ideally, by this point America should be heavily divided and charged.
Neutrality doesn't exist and half of the people demand change, the
others demand things stay the same. Both sides double down on
their agendas no matter how right or wrong they are."
Saudia raised a hand. "You've built this up long enough. Get to the
point."
"It's quite simple," Matthew answered, inclining his head. "Play our
cards right and we could force a second American civil war."
But the biggest issue for her was that this could potentially be a
multi-year operation and she was fairly certain at that point that their
alliance with the aliens would come to an end. In the scenario, a
more unified America worked in their favor more than a divided one.
Saudia nodded. "I don't think we can afford to wait years, much as it
would benefit us. The world is changing daily and the aliens won't
play by our rules willingly. We have to think towards the coming war,
we can ensure control of America once the aliens are defeated."
"Now, now," Matthew chided lightly. " All politicians are self-righteous.
Hell, both parties are incredibly self-righteous about their beliefs.
Trust me," he smiled in self-deprecation. "After receiving calls telling
me to kill myself simply because of what I do, I can assure you that
self-righteousness exists beyond Christian fundamentalists."
"True, true," she agreed, shaking her head. Even if African politics
were arguably more corrupt, they seemed more honest than what
took place here. At least politicians in Africa didn't bother to hide that
they were corrupt. "So, what advantage does he give us?"
"Militarily, he's the best option," Matthew explained. "I firmly believe
he'll do whatever it takes to defend America and if we can control
several of his Christian advisors, we will probably have a decent hold
on policy. Though in his case, I suspect we'll have to rely on
Congress to ensure that his proposals don't cause too much
damage."
"I think you've heard of her, actually," Matthew said, focusing on the
third picture. "Kamili Rono."
Ah yes, she had heard of the Kenyan immigrant. The young diplomat
had gained a reputation from participating in dozens of humanitarian
projects, UN sponsored and otherwise. Interesting that she'd taken
up politics, though it made sense. She could only do so much as one
person, influence over a country would open up many more doors.
"We could certainly get people into her inner circle," Matthew stated
grimly. "Though beyond that… she's very stubborn and would likely
dismiss most of what we'd suggest. I honestly see her as a
candidate ripe for direct control. She'd be an excellent figurehead,
but won't serve us well on her own."
Saudia nodded. As much as she liked Kamili, she was simply too
weak and uncompromising to be useful to them. Matthew was right
in that she'd be an excellent figurehead, but utilizing direct control
was a last resort, and they had other options. "We should use Jonas
Mallik," she told him. "He's the most moderate of the bunch and most
easily manipulated. That will serve our purposes well."
"Oh, I'm sure it exists," he amended. "But I don't even need evidence
to make it happen. All it takes these days is the allegation and the
supposed victim coming forward with her story. Plays right into
people's emotions; stirs them right up. Doesn't matter if it's true or
not, and it's not difficult to get women to come forward for
compensation."
"That they would be," Saudia agreed, thinking further. "I expect you
to forward all relevant information to pass along."
"Yes," Matthew nodded easily. "I'd imagine he'd jump at the chance
to examine alien technology and help us immensely in applying it.
He's younger and impressionable, so I think there's a good chance
we could mold him into a model EXALT scientist."
Saudia nodded and put the tablet down. "I'll speak to Darian. Thank
you, Matthew."
"One more thing," she said, raising her hand. Her tone hardening.
"These anti-police demonstrations? I want them brought under
control. If we're going to have a united America, I'd rather you get
started now."
"I can do that," Matthew answered, pursing his lips. "But that process
does take time and it might not completely remove the protesters, no
matter how much evidence is shown."
" All of them," she emphasized, her tone turning to steel. "I don't care
what race they are. The world has moved beyond them and their
kind only encourages division and hate. They are no longer afforded
the protection of civilian status. They are to be considered criminal
agitators and must be purged."
She the left, leaving him to start the process of deciding the next
president of the United States.
" A shame you took the easy route," the hologram of Zara said as
she shook her head. Garbed in the same gear as the meeting, the
only difference between the meeting then and now was the slight
shimmer around her, betraying that she was just a hologram.
The room was designed in such a way that the participants in the
meeting were tracked and their images streamed to whoever they
were communicating with. The result was participates could have a
meeting or discussion almost exactly like in person. It was one piece
of technology Saudia especially loved.
"It would have taken too much time," Saudia defended, as Zara
paced back and forth. She'd expected Zara to not approve of her
decision, but she'd listen to reason eventually. "I don't imagine our
alliance with the aliens will last years."
" A challenge I and my soldiers are unafraid of, " Zara snorted. "But
in terms of pure practicality, I see your point."
"I'm glad you think so," Saudia answered, relieved. "Had we more
time, I would have done it differently."
" A shame regardless," Zara muttered. "I would have loved to disrupt
the complacency within that corrupt country. It needs to be rebuilt
from the bottom up."
"Something that I saw plainly over there," Saudia sighed. "As much
as I dislike violent revolutions, one may be necessary for America in
the future."
" It is mandatory," Zara hissed. "Not just for America. You are only
prolonging the problem. Once this war is over, America will revert to
what it is now."
"We shall cross that bridge when we arrive," Saudia told her.
"Besides, there are far less stable countries than America that we
must deal with first."
" Agreed, and I doubt you'll be doing anything about them anytime
soon," Zara accused, crossing her arms. "Yes, yes, I know you have
specific plans. But it is aggravating."
" Who said anything about revolution?" Zara asked. "You know my
stance. The Middle East must be purged. Completely."
Saudia sighed. That particular opinion was one very unpopular within
EXALT as it was insulting, sloppy and simply wrong . No country or
government was beyond salvaging; sure, it would take time,
resources and money, but it could be done. Zara personally saw little
point in trying to execute plans that took years or decades and
preferred a more direct approach.
Granted, she had spent more time in that region than Saudia and the
things she'd seen had convinced her that the region was beyond
saving. And when Zara meant purge she meant the elimination of
everyone there. She felt the culture needed to be destroyed, not just
the people. And that was something Saudia would not consider if
there were other options.
"That's not going to happen, Zara," she stated firmly. "But we've
talked enough about America. I think it's time to draw XCOM out."
" Excellent," Zara grinned. "I look forward to it. Your plan?"
"It's time to start weakening the Cartels," Saudia told her. "Matthew
has given me the location of a town controlled by them. We'll lead
the aliens to it for them to do as they please. XCOM learns of the
abductions and goes to investigate. Then you strike."
" Ah, so I'll get to meet this Speaker," Zara grimaced. "Wonderful."
"Behave," Saudia told her sternly. "We can't afford to make them
suspicious."
" Yeah, yeah," Zara waved absentmindedly. "Don't worry. I'll play the
submissive human. "Yes, alien overlords, whatever you wish." "Yes,
death to all XCOM. Grr.""
Saudia smirked at her really awful imitation. "At least try to be subtle.
Standing there looking foreboding will do the trick."
"Then just stand there and look pretty," Saudia chuckled. "Maybe
he'll be distracted."
" Shut up," Zara shivered, looking at her, frowning. "You don't
actually think…"
"Only one way to find out," she teased, enjoying her discomfort far
more than she should.
Zara narrowed her eyes. "You play seductress with the alien,
Director. If that thing looks at me like that I'll castrate it and-"
"I'm sure you will," Saudia chuckled. "I'm setting up the call now."
Zara quieted down as the call went through. A few minutes later the
image of the Speaker of the Elders materialized into the
doppelganger, unchanged from their last meeting.
" As the Elders will it," he answered smoothly. "I presume you've
begun to adapt our technology for your own use?"
He clasped his hands together and displayed an eerie smile that was
disturbingly human. "That is excellent to hear. Please, let us know if
you require further assistance."
They were still keeping up the overly helpful act. An interesting tactic,
and didn't exactly encourage respect for the alien's leadership. There
was no way they could be this naïve. Whatever, she'd exploit this as
best she could. "I'm pleased you accepted our call," she told the
Speaker. "In fact, I believe it is time to begin operations against
XCOM."
" State your plan," the Speaker almost ordered, the pleasantness
gone from his voice. "We are listening."
Interesting choice of words. Not that she was surprised the Speaker
wasn't alone. "We have a location that we feel is useful to you. A
small town filled with an above-average count of healthy human
subjects. These people are troublemakers and criminals and you
would be doing a favor by removing these criminals and acquiring
additional test subjects for your own usage."
" There is wisdom in that," the Speaker nodded. "Very well. We will
strike this town and that should be enough to draw XCOM out. What
do you propose then?"
"A strike team will be waiting," Saudia answered, motioning Zara
forward. "This is Zara Venator, Head of the Venator Family and
Overseer of Australia as well as the military arm of EXALT. She will
be in charge of the ambush."
" A pleasure to meet you," the alien said smoothly with a smile.
"Though I must warn you that XCOM soldiers are unlike any you
have faced before."
" The first of many," Zara added. "XCOM will fall before us."
" We will then inform you when we intend to strike," the Speaker told
them. "It will be within the next few days."
" As do we, Director," the Speaker clasped his hands behind his back
and nodded towards her once. "May your victories be swift," the
ghost of a smile crossed his face. "We will be watching."
She wasn't quite able to keep a straight face as she heard those
words. The hologram vanished and those ominous words lingered in
her ear. The fact that they'd chosen those words hadn't been an
accident and would know what they meant to her.
"Of course they do," Saudia sighed. "But we can work with
condescension. It'll make the day we remove them from this Earth
much sweeter."
" That it will," Zara agreed. "I'll await your orders, Director. In the
meantime, I've got soldiers to prepare."
The hologram vanished, leaving her alone. Turning on her heel, she
began heading for her room. While she had some time, it might be a
good idea to look into this "Richard Tygan." The faster they learned
the secrets of the aliens, the better.
Annette didn't know anymore. Any semblance of time had been torn
apart as whoever was keeping her began intermittently cutting off the
lights at odd times. The blackouts sometimes lasted hours, other
times minutes. Although she couldn't even rely on her perception of
time anymore since she knew they were pumping drugs into her cell.
That had almost been as terrifying as the voices; knowing she was
helpless to resist whatever they decided to use on her. She'd been
terrified recently that her feelings weren't her own and instead were
the result of some chemicals. As a result, she'd tried focused
exclusively on keeping calm, no matter what she was feeling.
There hadn't been any more episodes. Psionics is what they were
called, apparently. Whatever, it didn't explain anything and she didn't
want to keep being triggered on the whims of some scientists.
Calm . She had to stay calm and not submit to anything she was
feeling because it might not be her. She would only use her abilities
on her terms, not at the will of some scientists. She felt that she was
getting better at negating the more negative effects of the voices.
There hadn't been any headaches for a few hours, the longest she'd
gone without some kind of pain.
Well, she wasn't going to fall for it. She wasn't going to be turned
insane just because they willed it. Gritting her teeth, she looked
around the room for the hidden camera she knew was there. Despite
not seeing it, she tapped her head at one of the corners and shook
her head, hoping that conveyed the message.
Although it might not do anything at all. For all she knew, they were
learning just as she was. Maybe they didn't know what she was
actually experiencing. She shook her head. No, they had to have
some idea, especially since she wasn't the only test subject. Not
everyone would have been able to resist as she had, it just didn't
seem like someone wouldn't have described what was happening to
the scientists.
She looked down at her arms, opening and closing her fingers,
marveling at how everything still worked. She looked like the victim
of an acid attack or fire survivor. Dozens of miniature scars dotted
her arms within warped, wrinkled and raw flesh. She remembered
the scientists attempting to fix her arm, they had sprayed some stuff
on it that had helped, and had also fixed her left wrist after she'd
apparently dislocated it from smashing the door.
She curled her fingers of her left hand, wondering why it didn't feel
worse. Must be a side effect of using her powers. She wondered if
the disfiguring effects would spread to the rest of her body. From
showering she'd noticed patches of warped skin and miniature scars
on various parts of her body. She assumed it would continue the
more she used her powers, and at the rate it was disfiguring her, she
wondered if at some point her body would simply fall apart. This kind
of damage couldn't be endured forever.
She laid back on the bed, trying to once again figure out how to get
out of this hopeless situation. Yet no matter how hard she thought,
nothing came to her that would work. Her powers wouldn't let her
break out of the room. She had no idea where she was, and had no
doubt that if she was caught, she'd wish she was dead.
Who was she kidding? She did wish she was dead. She wished
they'd just killed her that night she was walking home. At the time
she'd thought the two men were going to rape her or worse and had
taken off, the whole time cursing how little she had to defend herself.
With only a knife, she'd known her odds weren't good and focused
on getting away.
All for nothing, as she'd been unwittingly directed toward a one-way
alley. Preparing to fight, hands shaking, she'd raised the rather
pathetic looking blade at the two men who'd exchanged a look and
almost smiled. At this point she remembered she had a phone and
frantically pulled it out, trying to reach the police when the men had
taken action and shot her with some kind of taser.
She blacked out and the next thing she knew, she'd woken up in
here.
She should have been carrying a gun. Latrell had kept insisting she
did, going so far as to use his position to get her a permit. She'd
refused, not comfortable with guns in the first place and confident
nothing was going to happen to her. She was a fairly intelligent
woman, she could admit that, but not anyone worth kidnapping or
committing any sort of crime against.
She was no one and they knew it. A disappearance like hers would
result in an investigation at most and then the police would
eventually determine it was a murder or just chalk her up as missing.
Then they'd forget about her and move on to the next case.
She missed all of them now. Latrell, his family, her mother, even her
father, strange as that was to admit. They might have had major
disagreements, but she knew he'd loved her. Now she'd probably
never get to see and yell at him again.
She sniffed as the tears fell down the side of her face onto the bed.
Sure, her life hadn't exactly been the most exciting, but she'd been
happy. She'd had a good job, a group of good friends, a loving if
flawed family and an amazing boyfriend. She'd been happy.
Now she'd never get any of that back. She was essentially trapped in
this small room forever.
Even if she did manage to get out of the room it was still pointless.
She was just going to be captured again anyway so why even
bother?
She let out a broken chuckle through her blurred vision. Was this
was she was reduced to? Contemplating not how to escape this
place, but the best way to commit suicide? Well, did she really have
any other option? She was going to die eventually, someday her
usefulness would come to an end and they'd kill her.
Although there was one option she could take; a final resort before
she could resort to planning her own suicide.
As soon as that thought entered her mind she began sobbing and
curled up into a ball. She cursed herself for even thinking of that.
They wanted her to do this! This… all she was feeling right now was
engineered by them to bait her into crossing the point of no return.
But the despair was crumbling her resolve to resist the emotional
manipulation as she laid curled up for unknown minutes; because
deep down, she felt that it was irrevocably rooted in truth.
And if listening to the voices was the key to escaping… could she
really ignore it?
As if they knew the internal war she was fighting, the voices
whispered on the edge of her consciousness; taunting her with
vague sounds that she would be able to understand if she just paid
attention.
And what did she have to lose? Her mind? At this point, it might be
better this way. If she went insane she'd be free in a way, no longer
worrying about the hell her life had become. Better if that forced
these people to conclude she was a lost cause and terminate her
once and for all.
She sat up, taking shaky breaths and feeling her resolve grow. The
grief and sadness slowly faded, though she didn't know if that was
the result of the chemicals fading or if she'd ironically somehow
managed to resist them after deciding to do what they wanted.
She got off the bed and knelt on the floor, calmly resting her hands
on her knees. A meditative pose she'd seen that somehow felt right
for this situation. Slowing her breathing down until it was a steady
rhythm, she closed her eyes.
And listened.
The world went quiet and a blanket silence fell on her.
Utter silence.
Then at the edge of her consciousness she heard the faint sound of
words. She immediately focused on them.
Wonder what the Director is thinking, keeping the subject alive this
long. It served it's purpose long ago.
More words came, but these were different, it didn't sound like the
source was the same. Tell me about it. The subjects get more
dangerous the longer we keep it. Let's hope the scientists get what
they need. I don't want these things living up to their namesake.
Long story apparently, the second voice said and kept speaking but
Annette noticed something that seemed like a blanket above her, or
more like a balloon about to pop. Focusing it on it, images came into
view, much sharper and clearer than the half-formed images she'd
seen earlier.
It was a hallway with bright white lights above it and gray floors and
walls. Directly across was something like a cell. Rather like hers, if
she was being honest. But what seemed interesting is that this didn't
seem to be a static image. Almost without thinking, she looked to her
left and was surprised when the image shifted as well.
A man was beside her, or at least from the image she was seeing.
He was speaking, though she couldn't hear anything. He appeared
pretty well dressed, wearing pants, a striped suit and tie with
suspenders. Various electronic equipment was on him, earpieces
and some computing gear strapped to his arms and waist. A red
bandanna covered his lower face and he appeared to be of Chinese
descent.
This was so weird, but she was curious just what she was doing.
Time to see what was behind her. Willing the image to completely
reverse, she realized she was also in front of a similar looking cell to
the one across from her. Only this one had someone in it. A woman,
it appeared, brown hair, white cloths and… kneeling… on the floor.
She audibly gasped and the image blurred and threatened to vanish
as her heart started pounding.
Holding onto the collapsing image, she raised her own physical hand
and saw the woman raise it as well. Not a woman. Her . The image
faded and her eyes snapped open with a gasp and frantic breathing.
Unwilling to sit still, she jumped to her feet and began pacing
frantically.
Had she just-did she seriously… was that some strange sort of
hallucination?
It seemed insane… but there wasn't any other way she could explain
it.
And the voices… they weren't random whispers in her mind. They
were people ; their thoughts, words and memories. And if she could
understand them… she paused her pacing, thinking furiously.
To a degree she must, otherwise how would she have turned the
head to her cell. So if she could figure out how to control people…
Paris, France
Abby and Ruth sat out in an open-air café while they waited for
evening. Fortunately, it was a cloudy day, so neither of them were
too hot. Both wore civilian clothes, quite a change for Abby who
hadn't worn anything other than armor outside the Citadel for
months. Quite honestly, she felt exposed and vulnerable and had to
stop herself from subconsciously reaching down for her non-existent
pistol.
At the moment, they were only a few miles from the bar where their
target frequented. A few hours more and they would converge,
execute the op and leave with hopefully none the wiser. Abby
fingered the vial in her hands as they watched the civilians walk and
mill around without a care in the world.
She'd chosen the sedative herself and knew exactly how long it to
take effect. There'd been some debate, but they ultimately decided
around four hours was enough time for Abby to realistically convince
him to take her back to his place of residence, with enough time to
allow for driving and potential traffic. It wouldn't do any good for him
to pass out halfway back if he was driving. Alternatively, she'd get
him drunk enough so she would drive him back.
Four hours. She was going to have to hold his attention for that long.
Abby felt nervous again as she kept remembering that. Ruth had
said she was confident in her ability, but Abby wasn't too sure.
"You've got that look again," Ruth commented as she sipped her
coffee.
Abby looked over. "What look?"
"Your nervous but trying to hide it look," Ruth clarified with a smile.
It was eerie how good she was at this. "How could you possibly
guess that?" Abby asked, raising her cup of tea. "For all you know,
the tea just might not have agreed with me."
Ruth smirked. "Because one, I'm a Kidon agent who's spent a good
portion of her life reading people and two, because I've had that tea
and it's pretty good."
"Well, you got me," Abby sighed. "But I can't really help it."
"I doubt you were the one the entire op rested on," Abby pointed out.
"The entire mission depends on me."
"True, my first mission was a bit easier," Ruth admitted. "But you're
selling yourself short. And giving this guy way too much credit."
Abby set down her drink. "So, what was yours, if you don't mind?"
"Not at all," Ruth shrugged and set her coffee on the table. "There
was this drug dealer in Jerusalem. Terrible guy, sold the stuff
primarily to kids and teens. Thing was, he was really good at
covering his tracks and had an excellent lawyer who got him out of
jail time over and over. The Mossad were sick of it and wanted him
gone. So, they involved the Kidon and I got my orders to kill him, but
with one catch."
"It had to look like an accident," Ruth smiled fondly. "Now, back then
I was young and wanted to impress my superiors. They would have
been satisfied with a framed overdose or suicide, but I wanted it to
be perfect. I found him a few days of looking around and began
setting a rather elaborate trap."
Abby was curious, despite herself. "The first thing I did was kidnap
his lawyer and drive him down to an area overrun with several
gangs. They're very territorial and I don't imagine what they did to
him was pretty. His death appeared on the news a week later. Sad,
really. Unfortunate he'd chosen to associate with such terrible
company, the police might have spent more than a few hours looking
into his death. But it was so clearly a tragic homicide."
Ruth took a sip of her coffee. "So once he got back, I subdued him,
and got him high on just LSD. Got his prints all over the knife, so
implicated him in a murder. His house was a haven of drugs already
so I didn't even have to plant anything. Anyway, he's so far gone now
so he pretty much let me guide him wherever. I walked him down to
his car, started it, and sent him off."
"Not at first," Ruth clarified. "He drove rather drunkenly around the
street for a few minutes," her eyebrow rose. "However, the Kidon
have this very handy gadget that, if placed under the accelerator and
hooked to it, can be remotely trigger and cause a massive speed
boost. Self-destructs afterwards as well, which is handy."
"And you think that was easier than this?" Abby asked, staring at her
incredulously. "You killed three people!"
Abby frowned at her. "You didn't think that was a bit overkill? Quite
literally?"
It was talks like these when Abby felt she should be much more
scared and worried about this woman than she was. They'd be
having something resembling a normal conversation and Ruth would
give a story like that as an example or use it to illustrate her point.
Most of the time it involved killing someone or worse.
The thing was, Ruth was just so nice and didn't act like the killer she
was at all. She'd been extremely helpful and supportive and did
everything possible to help her transition to her new role. She'd seen
unbalanced people before and Ruth didn't exhibit any of the signs
associated with that. After spending some time not just with Ruth, but
the other Mossad and Kidon agents, she now had some theories as
to why.
The simplest explanation is that it was just part of the job for them.
Their missions were often lethal and over time they'd just become
desensitized to it. From what little she knew about the Kidon, the
other possibility was that they were more or less groomed not to feel
anything about their targets.
She wasn't quite willing to bring up the subject of the Kidon right
now. "Well," she finally said, taking a sip. "I guess this could be much
harder."
"Please," Ruth said, looking back over. "You'll do fine. Remember the
constant rule."
"Of course," Abby sighed. " All men are idiots when it comes to
women ."
"Not really," Ruth shook her head. "Trust me, I've followed this rule
for years and it becomes ridiculously easy after a point. Men want
attention; give that to them, make them feel important and that's
ninety percent of your work done," she eyed Abby. "I'm slightly
surprised you haven't figured that out yet. You're an attractive
woman, surely you must have met someone?"
"Oh, I completely believe you," Ruth clarified, setting her drink on the
table. "But notice I said they're idiots when it comes to women . Big
difference."
Abby was silent for a minute. "Look," Ruth turned further to face her.
"I don't think you have much to worry about with this guy. Chat him
up, smile, compliment him, give him everything he wants to hear. It's
easier than you think, you'll see."
"Let's just hope he's not the womanizing type," Abby frowned. "That'll
make things difficult."
"Oh, no," Ruth chuckled. "Those are the easiest. All you have to do
is sit back as listen to them brag about themselves, while
occasionally commenting on how great they must be. It's the quieter
ones who are more skeptical of sudden attention that are more
difficult. But that isn't this guy so don't worry."
"Not quite," Ruth admitted with a smile. "In my entire career there
have only been two who I've failed to successfully seduce. Though
one was a Chinese spy and the other a former KGB operative.
Seduction typically doesn't work on intelligence personnel, so I
usually use other means. But events sometimes happen that do
force my hand."
Because she did see Ruth's point very well, and in fact had
experienced it several times. She vividly recalled asking some of her
male colleagues in med school for help on one thing or another a
few times and them being very quick to instantly agree, no matter
how difficult or time consuming it was.
After a few times, it became clear to her that they were primarily
helping her for the sole reason of either asking her out or just having
sex. It had unnerved her a little how far they were willing to go just
for the possibility of either. She'd eventually stopped asking for help
altogether because the longer it went on, the more it felt like she was
taking advantage of their interest even if it wasn't her fault.
" You two ready?" the voice of Akello interrupted her thoughts, the
voice coming in her earpiece.
Ruth switched hers on and Abby copied it. "Whenever you are. You
inside?"
"Excellent," Ruth stood and tossed her cup in the trash. "Time to
start."
Scotland, Wilderness
As he and his team waited for intel, Cerian busied himself with
learning as much about the organization, personnel and history of
XCOM. Patrick had provided him everything the Council had on it,
although had admitted to him that the majority of it was likely out of
date as the Commander didn't feel the need to keep the Council
updated on anything.
It was the same with Vahlen, though she was one he'd heard of.
There had been speculation that she'd been a victim of the Caliphate
during the War on Terror. Apparently she'd just been recruited for
XCOM.
But any trace of fatigue was gone and her eyes sparkled. Well, let's
see what this is . "Yes?" He asked calmly, putting down his tablet
and giving her his full attention.
Cerian nodded. He'd allowed all the agents access to the files as
soon as he'd received them. Fortunately, the soldier list was
something that was current, at least in regards to the Council
nations. Most countries notified the people affiliated with the Council
about transfers to XCOM as well, with a few exceptions such as
Israel.
"Short version is that I got a hit," she explained, taking a seat beside
him and opening up her laptop. He immediately focused on it.
Cerian felt a smile creep across his face. "Now that is very
interesting. And in civilian clothing no less. Where is this?"
Cerian immediately rose to his feet and hit the buzzer that sent out a
quick shriek throughout the house. "We've got a hit everyone! Gather
up your equipment and head for the helicopter! Now! This is time
sensitive! "
There were confirmations shouted from the various rooms and the
rustle of gear being gather. Cerian fixed his gaze on Mary. "Don't let
them out of your sight, camera or otherwise. I want to know
everything that happens, no matter how small."
"Get something to eat," he began, then paused. "Actually, hold off. I'll
get you something when we get to Paris. But excellent work."
"We're ready when you are, sir." Olivia said, speaking for them.
"Here!" Darril called out as he rushed out, stuffing a vial into his
pack. "Apologies sir!"
He jabbed a finger at them. "Olivia, Ren. Both of you will don civilian
attire and go with me into the field. Unless XCOM is moving into an
abandoned area, we're staying incognito . Blend in with the crowd
and keep in constant contact."
Cerian smiled as the helicopter lifted off. It had been years, and it felt
good to be doing something important again.
The club was surprisingly packed. Abby felt that she shouldn't have
been quite as surprised as she was. Actually, it honestly made
sense, with the alien attacks, she'd imagine that would drive more
people to drink. Not to mention it was Paris and still had a large
amount of tourists.
" Yep. Copy that," Akello commented in her earpiece. "He doesn't
typically show up this early, though."
"Been awhile since I've been in a place like this," Ruth commented,
laying her arms down on the table. "Past few months it's either been
small bars or infiltration missions. Nothing this scale in a while."
"You like this?" Abby asked, looking over at her. Ruth had a
contented smile on her face and playfulness in her eyes.
"I like the energy," Ruth said, resting his chin on her fist. "It's
invigorating, especially when hunting. Not to mention the targets are
always easier when drunk." She brightened. "Speaking of which, we
should probably get something. Two women sitting alone without
anything might draw the wrong attention."
Abby nodded, blending in was a good idea. "I'll go get something.
You have a preference?"
"Orange juice," Ruth answered, looking over at the bar. "If they even
have that. Don't worry too much, but no water or alcoholic."
"Got it," Abby reassured her and began making her way through the
crowd of people. Some moved out of her way politely, others didn't,
and some were just too drunk to notice. She just focused on getting
to the bar. It was busy, but she managed to find a spot and sat down.
Someone would come to her eventually and she wasn't in a hurry.
As she looked over the menu, she did feel kind of depressed hearing
all the cheers, laughter and enjoyment around her. It was just so odd
how things were so… normal . How could people just continue on
when the world itself was threatened? It didn't seem fair or right that
these people could move through life without any worry but other,
better people died to grant them that luxury. Shouldn't they be doing
something to help?
But wasn't that the point? People like her made the sacrifices and
others like Liam, Luke and Mira gave their lives so people lived in
peace. But it just seemed wrong for people to pretend it wasn't
happening.
She cleared her throat. "Ah, yes. Sorry. You have orange juice?"
"You got it," he walked off and Abby looked at the bottle. Oddly
enough, it appeared to be written in Hebrew. Or was it Russian?
Whatever it was, she couldn't read the ingredients to see if the
bartender was telling the truth. Something seemed off about him,
especially since he'd somehow known what she was going to ask
for.
"Here you go," he told her, setting a glass with tea in front of her.
"Anything else?"
"Oh, this," Abby fished out the credit card she'd been given and
handed it to him. He took it and walked back. Taking a sip of her tea,
she had to admit it was pretty good. Just the right amount of
sweetness.
"All done," he handed the card back. "Now, may I have the vial?"
She froze. The only vial she had contained the sedative and the only
way someone could know about that was…
She narrowed her eyes and looked at the bartender much more
closely. It was subtle, but whenever he blinked, sometimes his irises
didn't quite match up. It seemed extremely difficult to believe
but…"Kalonymous?"
Without breaking eye contact, Abby causally resting her palm on the
table, setting the vial down. He'd pick it up without having to do
something as obvious as handing it to him. "Have a good night," she
told him. "Thanks for the drinks."
"Of course miss," Kalonymous answered, regaining his uncannily
accurate French accent. "Enjoy!"
She took the drinks and walked back to where Ruth was seated,
taking care not to spill her drink. Sliding into her seat she slid the
orange juice over to an incredulous Ruth. "How the hell did you
manage to get this?" Ruth demanded as she looked it over.
Her face lit up. "Ah, so he did manage to get in. Excellent."
Abby cocked her head. "You didn't think that would have been good
to know?"
Abby pinched the bridge of her nose. "You aren't actually going to
have sex during the middle of this, are you?"
"Hey, only if you don't have issues," Ruth reassured her. "You take
what you can get in this job. Besides, it's good practice and one of
the few times I get to have fun."
"How smart," Abby remarked sarcastically. "I would say good luck,
but I don't think you need it."
Going into this loud, obnoxious place reminded Cerian why he'd
chosen a nice quiet spot in Scotland beyond being essentially forced
into retirement. How anyone could enjoy themselves with their heads
physically pounding from the music was beyond him. He was
probably getting too old for this.
" Yes, sir," Mary said into his earpiece. "Tracked them to here. I'll
begin taking control of the cameras now."
He pointedly ignored the stifled chuckle from Olivia behind him. "I'll
see what I can do," Mary promised, also sounded amused.
"Although that might draw attention."
"Forget it," he sighed, looking back at Olivia and Ren. "Both of you
enter after me. Move around, participate if you want. But I want eyes
on them as soon as possible."
"Got it," Ren said, running a hand though his wavy brown hair. "And
once we do?"
"Will do," Olivia stated, biting her lower lip. "Though this is a club.
We're both probably going to attract some people."
Yes, she was right. His age was going to be an advantage here in
that he didn't have to worry about that issue. Younger agents were
more vulnerable in that respect. Still, both of them were
professionals and could handle the distractions. "I'll leave how to
handle that up to you," he told them, eyeing them sharply. "But no
trysts."
"Oh, fine," Ren sighed dramatically. Cerian smirked and began going
into the club. A lot of people; that would both help and hinder them.
Hinder by making it more difficult to find them. But when they did it
would be much easier to blend into the crowd. It was large, so some
walking around would be in order.
Unless they were trying to get into restricted areas, they would be in
the main areas. So that meant they were probably sitting down
somewhere as well. At least the two women, excluding any
additional people XCOM might, or might not have sent. "I'm inside,"
he muttered. "No signs yet. Moving to the bar."
" Would have been rather anti-climactic if you had," Ren commented.
"I mean, when do missions go that smoothly?"
" I'm poised to enter now," Olivia informed him. "Taking the left side."
" I'll move to the dance floor," Ren said. "Anything new, Mary."
Taking a seat, he looked over the menu while he waited for service.
Yep, about what he expected. While it had been a while since an op
like this, he fell back into the routine so easily. "May I help you?" A
bartender who was clearly a native Frenchman asked him, with a
disarming smile.
"[Here you go, sir.]" The bartender returned with his drinks. Cerian
handed him some cash in payment.
Cerian pursed his lips. At least this proved there was something
going down here. "Can you secure it" He asked as he poured water
into the now empty beer bottle.
" Always up for a challenge," was the response. "I can put them on
the defensive at the very least. But It'll tip them off we're here."
Damn it. "I don't want to spook them," Cerian said, putting the empty
water bottle down. "Nothing else you can do?"
" I can try to trace it," Mary said slowly. "But if they're even remotely
competent they'll be using proxies. Here, let me try piggybacking off
of them. I won't have control but I'll see what they're looking at."
"Do it," he said, standing up with the beer bottle filled with water. "I'm
moving around now."
They continued moving around for the better part of half an hour,
sitting down for a few minutes, looking around, then moving again.
He didn't see Olivia or Ren, which he counted as a good thing. He
also didn't see anyone overly out of the ordinary or anyone who set
off any internal alarms.
" I think I might have found them," Ren informed. "At least a woman
matching Abigail's picture."
" About halfway down the bar, I believe table three on your left."
As for the other woman, she could be none other than Ruth Shira.
The last alleged picture of her was about half a decade old, but the
resemblance was uncanny. She was older, but it was definitely her.
She also had some sort of bottle in her hand, what it was, he couldn't
make out.
That was all he needed and he looked away and let the crowd
consume him. "Camera placed," he muttered as he looked onto his
phone displaying the video feed. "Confirmation on Abigail Gertrude
and Ruth Shira. Be on guard, Kidon agents are in play. Exercise
extreme caution."
"We watch and wait," Cerian ordered. "Find a spot and stay there for
the moment. Watch people that don't move, guards, the bartenders.
They could have people anywhere."
" They're keeping most of the cameras on auto," Mary updated. " But
they have one fixed on the entrance. I think they're waiting for
someone."
"Good," Ruth took a sip of her drink. "No hostiles spotted so far."
"That normal?" Abby asked, looking around.
"In this case, no," Ruth clarified. "This guy might not even be part of
EXALT. He might just actually be a high ranking member on
vacation, so I'd assume that wouldn't warrant special attention." The
corners of her lips twitched. "That being said, if he is EXALT there is
a suspicious lack of security."
" He's going to the bar now," Akello updated again. "Kalonymous is
giving him his drink. The clock starts now."
"Showtime," Abby muttered. "I'll give him a few minutes, watch him
for a bit."
"Of course," Abby nodded. It was simple, yet not set in stone. Things
had to right, first.
Taking a deep breath, she stood and began walking over to the bar.
Taking a seat on the corner, she got her first good look at Madvay.
His appearance was much like the picture Zhang had shown them.
Short styled brown hair, pale skin, blue eyes and a round face. He
had some distinct Russian features such as a flatter chin and slightly
protruding nose. Overall, he wasn't a bad looking man.
Resting her arms on the bar, she watched him passively, glad she
could do that without it looking suspicious. If anyone saw her, they'd
just assume she was checking him out, which she was. She was
curious how long it would take him to notice, if he did. While she
watched, she wrapped a strand of hair around her finger, toying with
it. Men seemed to like that for some reason.
"Let me know if you want to get him a drink," Kalonymous said under
his breath as he walked by, not looking at her.
She gave a little wave, and he went from slight surprise to something
resembling interest. He gave her a smile of his own, a rather nice
one if she was being honest. She rapped the bar hoping that would
get Kalonymous's attention. She didn't break eye contact as she
sipped her drink.
Pushing her way past some people, she quickly made something of
a rectangular route down towards the entrance area, then right until
she was roughly where Madvay would be, then headed back up to
the bar. She didn't spot Ruth or anyone else along the way, though
she couldn't help but wonder if that really meant no one was
watching. After all, she was new at this.
Ah, perfect. A seat open just beside him to his right. He'd returned to
primarily looking at the TV, but she noticed he glanced around every
so often. Looking for her, a good sign. Another bottle was beside his
glass, so Kalonymous must have given it to him. With a smoothness
that surprised herself, she slid into the seat beside him.
"Enjoying the drink?" She asked casually as he noticed and turned to
face her.
"Well, not an unpleasant one I hope," Abby teased, resting her arms
on the table. "You looked rather bored."
"Heh, very true," he agreed, motioning at the TV. "Very bad game.
Even if I have no stake in it," his lips curled up. "You seem to be
much more interesting."
"So where are you from, Madvay," she asked, easing into another
topic. As they were speaking a woman slid into a seat a few down
from them and waved over Kalonymous. "Am I wrong to guess
you're as much a native here as I?"
"Oh really?" She said, doing her best to overemphasize her interest.
"I didn't know you were an important businessman."
"Clearly," she agreed, nodding and let out a dramatic sigh. "I can
only imagine how difficult it is to rise. I've dealt with the culture before
and it's extremely competitive and stressful."
"I'm a surgeon," she explained. "Doing a brief stint here since the
European countries have been hit hardest by the aliens."
She allowed a blush and brushed her hair back. "Why thank you. It's
nice to hear from such a charming gentleman."
Well, things were going surprisingly well and if this kept up, she'd
have him taking her back to his place in no time. She'd distracted
him so completely that he didn't notice how his drink was oddly
refilled. Keep getting him drunk and he'd soon do whatever she said.
So, taking a sip of her tea, she smiled, nodded, and let him talk.
Cerian took a sip. "Mary, you got anything on this Madvay Vadim?"
" Yeah, but I'm not seeing any connection here," Mary sounded
confused. "He's telling the truth. He's fairly high up in a Russian
agricultural company. Mostly supplies farming equipment and is one
of the largest in the country."
Had Kidon agents not been involved, Cerian would have been
tempted to call this whole thing off and instead chalked it up to an
XCOM equivalent of shore leave. Abby was clearly trying to… if not
seduce him, at least lower his guard around her. By the looks of
things, she was doing a good job.
Sitting at the bar, he found it curious that Madvay's drink was always
getting refilled without prompting. Now, it was possible that he'd paid
for unlimited drinks or something, but once he notice that, it wasn't
hard to connect that it was always the same bartender who refilled
his drink.
He saw her faintly bob her head at nothing in particular. So, XCOM
clearly wanted something from this man, and he had no idea what.
Did they want his identity? His credentials? But even if that were the
case, why target some Russian farming company? What possible
relevance could that have to the war?
" Wait! Spotted her!" Mary hissed. "Take out your earpiece boss!
She's coming for you!"
Damn.
She was still a beautiful woman, but the prettiest ones were usually
the most dangerous. Spies especially.
"Well, I can rectify that if you want," Ruth offered, tilting her head to
the side.
"If you wish," Cerian shrugged. "I certainly won't turn you down."
She chuckled. "An odd place to go if you want to be alone."
"You sit away from people, sipping that beer repeatedly," she
answered. "You don't make eye contact and sometimes just stare off
into the distance. The world just vanishes for you."
" Sarah," he continued. "You paying any attention to the world at the
moment?"
"Yeah, the aliens," Cerian gave a sigh. "The stuff that's happening
could drive anyone here." He took a perfectly timed sip of his 'beer.'
"Especially if you were affected by it."
Hmm. She actually seemed to be buying into his story, then again,
he was able to give a convincing performance. He slumped his
shoulders. "Everyone, pretty much," he admitted, putting suppressed
pain in his voice. "Wife, children, friends. Hamburg, you know."
"I know," she nodded solemnly. "I lost friends there too."
Oddly enough, Cerian believed her there. In their line of work losing
friends was not unexpected, though he doubted it was from the
Hamburg attack. "I mean, it wasn't solely Hamburg," he amended.
"You heard of the Berlin Massacre? The attacks in Cologne? My
family was too active for their own good."
She looked away and he noted her subtly clutch her drink a bit
tighter. "I'm sorry," she said. It actually sounded like she meant it. "I
hope your family will be avenged one day."
"Yep," he gave a sigh. "I ship out tomorrow. Trying not to think about
what I got myself into. But I'm not going to sit on the sidelines and
have others fight on my behalf."
She appraised him, almost not sure what to think. "Admirable," she
finally said. "It's sad more aren't like you."
He gave her a wan smile. "Hey, if the aliens win, I'd rather die
fighting to my last breath than live under their rule."
"Well," Ruth pushed herself off. "I wish you well. Good luck…"
"Trent," he supplied.
"Trent," she nodded. "Thank you for your service." With that she
formed her right hand into a fist and placed it over her chest, then
walked away.
That entire exchange had been incredibly bizarre. He still didn't know
why she'd come up to him in the first place, but by the end it'd
seemed that they were both meaning what they said. He'd convinced
her of his story and she'd seemed sincere in wishing him well.
He couldn't help but think he'd just talked himself out of something.
What that was, he had no clue.
Her time was running out and the more drunk he became, the more
chance he was going to pass out on her. He'd turned out to be
surprisingly talkative after an hour or so and was very descriptive of
what he did. So she plied him with questions, how many people
worked there, what did they do? Any suspicious people? How much
security?
He grinned and grabbed her hand, taking some initiative for once.
She'd wondered if he'd picked up on her subtle flirting and it seemed
he had to some degree.
She motioned to the door. "Lead the way," he shakily stood up, and
she grabbed him to steady him.
"You know," he stumbled. "I think I might not be in the best shape to
drive," he gave a lopsided grin. "I'd hate to crash you."
"Right," he scowled as she fished for the keys in his pocket. His face
brightened. "Here!" he dropped them in her hand and once again
steady, began walking towards his car.
Well this was interesting. On his keychain was the his company ID.
Well that was easy, now to see what else was at his house. They
finally arrived at his car, a small red model she'd never seen before.
It didn't matter, they both got in and she started the car.
"Where to?" She asked after buckling up, looking over to him. "Sadly,
I don't know where you live yet."
"Oh, right," he blinked several times, his pupils dilating rapidly. Hmm.
The sedative was going to take effect very soon. But he recalled it
and told her the address.
"Any kind of gate code?" She asked before he passed out
completely, not that it would be a huge obstacle, but it would waste
time.
She began driving and after a few minutes looked over at him. "You
alright?" she asked, not quite able to keep the smugness out of her
voice.
"Don't worry," she reassured him. "It will all be over soon."
Time to give a quick test. Pulling over, she took out the small knife
she'd been carrying and made a shallow cut along his arm. Nothing,
not a single reaction. He was completely out. She let out a sigh of
relief. "Akello, you there?"
She flushed with pride. "Thanks, but since he's out, I need
directions."
She relayed the directions and it wasn't far away at all. About twenty
minutes later, she pulled into a fairly nice hotel and pulled into the
parking lot. His room was one that could be accessed from the
outside, so they didn't need to worry about them being spotted
carrying his unconscious body into the room.
"Akello, I'm here." She informed looking around. If there were
security cameras, that could pose an issue.
" I've set the cameras on a loop," Akello told her. "Look to your right."
Abby complied and saw Akello approaching her, laptop in hand,
smiling. Getting out of the car, Abby approached her.
The young African snorted. "I could do this with my eyes closed. You
didn't do so bad yourself."
"Well, here's your first piece," Abby handed her the ID. "He's in room
401, so I'd appreciate it if you opened it. He's going to be heavy
enough as it is."
Akello nodded and Abby opened the passenger side door and after
some tugging, slung Madvay's body over her shoulders. Dragging
might have been quicker, but this was easier. Still, he wasn't exactly
a feather.
Biting her lip, Akello looked over and her eyes widened. "What are
you doing?" She asked incredulously.
"Are you sure that will work?" Akello asked, typing on the computer.
"I mean, I'd think that'd be the one thing you don't forget. Especially
with you mysteriously gone."
Akello's eyes lit up. "Give that here," she asked and Abby complied.
Pulling out some sort of rectangular box, she began sliding the cards
into it which were ejected from the other end.
"Neat." Once she was done, Abby placed the wallet and keys into his
pants pocket, essentially leaving it as she found it. "You got what you
needed?"
"Yep," Akello shut down her laptop and looked up. "A successful
mission, I'd say."
Abby let out a sigh of relief. "Went better than I expected, honestly."
"To Russia we go," Akello repeated and they both walked out to
regroup with the rest of the team.
Cerian, with Rey and Olivia behind him arrived at the meeting point.
They'd designated a low-budget hotel where people didn't ask too
many questions. Cerian knocked on the door. "We're here."
Very funny. He would have given some sarcastic answer had he not
been concerned about attracting attention. "Open the door. Now."
"Fine," there was a click and Baston opened the door. Him and Darril
had assault rifles in their hands in the unlikely event they were
discovered. All three of them quickly entered the room and shut the
door.
"Good job, everyone," Cerian said as he locked the door and turned
to face them. Mary was sitting barefoot and cross-legged on the bed,
her laptop resting on her legs. Several boxes of pizza were on the
bed and she currently was eating a piece.
"That went pretty smoothly," Olivia said, slumping down into a chair
and yawning. "Though I still don't have a clue what they were after."
"No," Cerian sighed. "And I certainly wasn't going to risk it after Ruth
showed up. I can describe him, but I'm not sure how much good it'll
do. He's probably not on any systems if he is a Kidon agent,
anyway."
"Oh, come on," Ren chided. "You didn't find it a little funny listening
to her obviously sweet-talking him? I've got to steal some of those
lines. She wasn't half-bad."
"I think we should also figure out why an XCOM soldier is involved in
an operation like this," Cerian reminded them. "This was an op
clearly designed by a professional. As in an Intelligence professional.
XCOM might have something of an intelligence division now."
"And they didn't tell the Council," Darril shook his head. "Wow."
Olivia snorted. "Genius if you ask me. Why reveal such an asset?"
"Which is why I'm letting her decide," the Commander reminded him,
not looking back. "This is an option for her to consider. Nothing
more."
"That being said, she's going to feel pressured to go through with it,"
Blake insisted. "No disrespect intended, sir."
They reached the room and Blake opened the door and entered first.
Myra was awake on the bed staring into the ceiling, a thin sheet
covering her body. A few IV tubes were connected, but she was off
life support and breathing assistance. It was difficult not to focus on
the stump of her arm that already seemed smaller.
Upon hearing the door open, she quickly tried to reposition herself
into a more professional position until the Commander raised a
hand. "At ease, soldier." She complied and sank back down into the
bed for few seconds, then tried to get into a more comfortable sitting
position at a much slower pace.
"I didn't expect to see you, Commander," Myra said, her voice
cracked and tired. "Not that I'm complaining."
Myra looked up at the blank ceiling. "I'm still tired," she admitted.
"But no pain. Unfortunately no pain. I can move this arm," she raised
her good hand. "And my body. But I can't feel anything below my
waist."
The Commander looked over at Blake. The good doctor had failed to
mention this. "You didn't mention she was paralyzed," he stated
coldly. Blake swallowed.
"Yeah," Myra snorted. "A real comfort, that. With assistance ."
"You need pilots," Myra guessed, looking at him. "It looks impressive,
but how could one person control something this size?"
"The pilots would have to be altered to properly sync with the MEC,"
Shen continued, his tone reserved. "This requires…" he trailed off.
The Commander didn't.
"It will require the amputation of your limbs and reinforcement and
reconstruction of your torso and brain," the Commander finished.
"You'd get replacement limbs and implants designed to interface with
the MEC suits."
Myra coughed. "That is… not what I expected." She frowned as she
looked at the pictures. "Just how useful would this realistically be?"
"We've run dozens of simulations with various armor configurations,"
Shen answered. "The current prototype is designed to withstand an
artillery barrage. How this will compare to the aliens, we still don't
have field data. But it's not wrong to think that this could alter the
course of the war in our favor."
"I believe the MEC project will be essential in the war," the
Commander told her. "It is an extreme sacrifice but one that could be
key to ensuring the survival of the human race-"
"No need," Myra shook her head again. "I understand that and I
believe you when you say I have a choice. But I also know you don't
ask without reason; if you believe that these MECs will be essential
in winning the war, than I do as well. You wouldn't ask this if you
weren't convinced it was necessary." The corners of her lips twitched
up. "I know we have our differences, but you don't lie to your
soldiers."
Moments like these were why he worked to get soldiers what they
needed and ensure they were taken care of. Aside from simple
decency, respecting those under you cultivated loyalty and in turn,
trust. And what reassured him most was that he wasn't lying to
convince her, he stood behind everything that he'd said. If the MEC
project met his expectations, he truly believed it would change the
course of the war.
He didn't mention that Vahlen's first attempt had killed one of the test
subjects accidentally. The Commander hadn't been present, but it
had apparently been an… unpleasant experience. Vahlen had
assured him that she'd noted the error and that it wouldn't happen
again. To prove it she'd repeated the procedure, this time
successfully.
The modified test subject was now in the cells and Vahlen had said
she would expose him to a variety of stimulants and chemicals to
see if the brain reacted any differently. A few days in and already
down two prisoners. Ah well, it was an unexpected expense; he'd
have figured Vahlen would have gotten a bit more use out of them
before they needed to be replenished.
But such were the risks of new technology. He might as well order
another batch. More test subjects couldn't hurt. But hopefully
Vahlen's monitoring would help either predict issues with Myra or
create ways to relieve any discomfort. There had also been a
marked change in the way the test subjects had reacted to Vahlen
entering.
Before it had been jeers, taunts and threats. When he'd entered a
second time with her, the reaction had almost been negligible. All of
them had watched warily, not with fear, not yet. But they were
starting to understand just what their fate was. Perhaps they thought
appeasement would work and compliance would be rewarded. It
wouldn't, but neither him, nor Vahlen sought to correct that
misconception.
"You won't be the same person," Blake warned, crossing his arms.
"You can't if you want complete synchronization with the MEC suit."
Shen shot a glance his way. "While I do feel that is a concern, I also
think it's wise to note that we don't know for sure . You could be
completely unaffected or you mind could be reduced to an
automaton. That's what you need to consider most. Are you willing to
risk losing your personality? Or any chance at a normal life?"
Her tone turned softer. "Aside from that, I can't leave now. Not after
everything that has happened. Not if I can still help in some way. But
the best reason is that it's the right thing to do." She looked at the
Commander. "You're always going to have a first subject; a guinea
pig, and if things go wrong with me, it'll help make things safer for
future soldiers."
The three men exchanged looks. "I suppose it's settled then," Shen
finally said. "Very well. You will undergo the procedure as soon as
possible."
"As do I," the Commander saluted and inclined his head towards her.
"Thank you."
Shen and Blake exited the door and the Commander moved to
follow when he heard Myra's voice. "A moment, Commander."
He closed the door and turned around to face her. Myra appraised
him thoughtfully. "Question," she said. "Why did you ask me?
Certainly there are others who are in better condition."
"I know," the Commander sighed and leaned against the wall.
"Which is why I'm limiting who I select. Blind loyalty is dangerous
and I'm well aware of my position and the pressure I unwittingly
exert. You're more skeptical of me than most, and oddly, that makes
you more qualified in my eyes. For something like this I need to
know you actually want to do it and aren't following out of blind
loyalty or fear."
Myra gave him a wan smile. "That's more reassuring than you know,
Commander. Keep that attitude and you will retain our loyalty. Keep
the skeptics around, they keep you grounded."
"That they do," the Commander agreed, looking over. "It's difficult
sometimes. I sometimes don't know if the people are agreeing with
me are being truthful or simply afraid of my position. It's a problem
I'm not sure can ever be fixed."
Because at heart, he was still a soldier. The longer this war went on,
he felt that he was contributing less and less even if that wasn't true.
He missed personally leading the charge; sharing in the terror,
danger and thrill of combat. He missed feeling like he was actually
contributing to the mission instead of watching it on a screen.
Because if he died, then the war would be lost. Humanity would fall
because the leaders lacked the will to do what must be done. They'd
gone against their better judgment when they'd put him in charge
and if he died, he had no doubt they'd replace him with someone
safe, compliant and lawful .
"I think that if you're asking those questions, you're doing something
right," Myra finally said. "I guess you have to trust that they're telling
the truth," she shrugged. "I don't know what goes on in your inner
circle, but if you treat them with the same respect you treat us, I'd
say you have little to worry about."
He smiled at her. "Thank you, Myra. That's more reassuring than you
know."
"Don't forget where you came from and you'll be fine," Myra
reassured him. "I'll see you after the procedure, Commander." She
saluted him as best she could and he returned it solemnly.
With that he left the room, many ideas running through his mind. It
wasn't fair for the soldiers to risk themselves with no risk to himself.
That was going to change, as much as possible.
Back to work.
Soran regretted putting off reading the contingencies until now. He'd
expected it to be dry and boring, like nearly all military documents
were. Honestly, it wouldn't kill them to hire some actual writers to
make it a bit more appealing for the average soldiers. Then people
might actually read those documents.
He did wonder if they considered what would happen when the war
was over. Soran personally wasn't convinced that the Council would
simply forget them, especially if they utilized methods like the Hades
Contingency. The thing was, if humanity was going to survive, it
would be primarily XCOM that would be responsible for it.
Another thing that he'd been noticing is that the newer soldiers were
"assimilated," for lack of a better word after a few missions.
Nationalities weren't as big a deal as he assumed they would be.
There weren't any rivalries between soldiers outside of the sparring
ring, at least none based on nationality. When Israeli and Iranian
soldiers were seen having a normal conversation and laughing
together, it was a sign that nationality wasn't important.
Hmm. Maybe not, since the common cause with XCOM was literally
the survival of the human race. Past national rivalries seemed petty
in that perspective, but really, what was NATO's cause? Protecting
countries that already had strong militaries? As a deterrent to nations
like Israel or Russia? Not to mention that they probably only
recruited from UN members whereas XCOM recruited from
everywhere.
"Not what you were expecting?" Soran looked from the table up to
see one of the soldiers approaching him. Wearing the standard
XCOM military fatigues with several knives strapped to his belt, he
was one of the larger men at the base. Soran recalled him as one of
the newer recruits, though he wasn't sure of his name.
His blue eyes stood out in stark contrast to his black skin and hair,
the latter of which was simply a buzz cut. He had a neatly trimmed
beard that covered his cheeks and chin, a fairly full one at that.
Soran raised an eyebrow. "You even know what I'm reading?"
Soran set down the documents. "And what did you think?"
"You think the UN knows about these?" Soran asked, cocking his
head.
"Doubt it," the soldier shrugged with a smirk. "I mean, I wouldn't. The
UN would pitch a fit, rightfully or no. It'd just be a distraction and
ultimately amount to fear-mongering."
Hmm. Considering that some of the contingencies dealt with the
potential authorized execution of civilians, UN forces and foreign
governments, Soran couldn't help but the think the UN might be
justified in being a little concerned. "You don't these are open to
abuse?" He asked, a question that had been on his mind since
reading the Zeus Contingency.
"I see your point," the soldier admitted. "But I really don't think it's a
concern, at least not with the Commander. He seems like a good,
sound leader. Creed trusts him not to make idiotic decisions and
that's a pretty good endorsement for me."
Soran frowned. "Not that I'm disputing that, but what makes his
endorsement worth more?"
"Ah, right," the man gave a wide smile displaying his pure white
teeth. "I don't think we've formally met," he extended a hand.
"Samuel Roche, United States Army Ranger."
"Hey, even if it did, I doubt it'd last," Samuel pointed out. "We have
bigger things to worry about than kill counts and mission streaks."
Although… he'd heard soldiers talking about how many aliens they'd
personally killed without anyone batting an eye. But that was alright
because they were aliens and thus human norms didn't apply to
them.
"No," Soran recalled what he'd done to get there. "They certainly
don't." He looked over at the Ranger. "Though that isn't quite as
impressive as joining the Rangers."
Well, he had a new level of respect for the Ranger. Not only had he
escaped the Haitian Purges, but had also made it to America,
presumably become a citizen and then joined one of the most elite
units in the United States military.
"You definitely had it harder than me," Soran said honestly, shaking
his head. "I won't accept false modesty this time."
"Best to get ready," Soran said as he got up. "Wouldn't want to hold
everyone up."
"Very true," Samuel agreed, moving to his locker and pulled out his
autolaser. "I hate latecomers."
Aside from Samuel and Soran, the rest of the squad were veterans
of XCOM. Soran didn't know many well, but he did remember their
names. Roman Mendoza was actually from Mexico, so it wasn't a
surprise that this mission would include him. The man had been
quieter than the rest so far, a sentiment Soran could understand.
Rob Gorman was a United States Marine, and he looked more than
happy to be working with a SEAL and Ranger. It was interesting how
a position influence how they were treated so much. But he'd
probably do his job well and not cause issues.
Vickie Webb was probably the least experienced aside from himself
and Samuel. She'd been on several missions, but didn't have quite
the track record of Creed and the rest. But she seemed reasonably
competent.
"They can't get everything," Vickie sighed. "Or it could mean that
they've figured out how to sneak under our radar."
" A good question," the Commander agreed. "It is odd. They normally
target more populated and fairly healthy areas. It's a change of pace
that we need to investigate."
He could almost feel the skepticism from Creed. "And just why would
the aliens care about a bunch of thugs and drug dealers?"
"Scoff if you like, but the Cartels are among the most organized
criminal organizations in the world," Roman countered. "Trust me,
I've dealt with them before. They don't tolerate incompetence or
inefficiency."
"It still doesn't explain why the aliens would care," Vickie shrugged.
"Did the Cartels do something to them?"
Soran could swear he could have heard the Commander snort, but it
might have been static. "The Cartels would stand no chance against
the aliens. No, I doubt they're interested in the organization itself."
"While you have a point, Rob does as well," Creed interjected. "I
would see it being more effective for neutralizing soldiers in combat.
Throw some of that at them and then kill them while they're high and
distracted."
"I think you're overthinking it," Vickie suggested lightly. "Maybe the
aliens are using for themselves. Who says aliens don't enjoy getting
high?"
They all chuckled at that. Soran had the mental image of some of the
sectoids sitting around with cigars smoking weed and taking
injections of heroin. Yep, that sounded about right. The Commander
also sounded amused. "While I wouldn't be concerned with that
possibility, I'd prefer any kind of drugs kept out of their hands.
Provided this is a Cartel drug lab in the first place. Standard orders
apply; go in, secure the area and wipe out any aliens."
They flew in silence for a few minutes and Soran fiddled with his
laser SMG. He was considering just taking a rifle next time, more
firepower was more useful than mobility in most situations, especially
when the rifle didn't weigh much more. "This is Big Sky to Bull
Team," Big Sky informed over the intercoms. "We're approaching the
abduction zone. Prepare for aeriel insertion."
They all landed within the span of a few seconds. The first thing
Soran noticed were the bodies splayed along the streets. Old,
abandoned and rusty cars lined the streets, most with flat tires or
none at all. Some were completely overtaken by vegetation or
stripped completely. The roads were also cracked and practically
unusable now. The whole area reeked of poverty and abandonment.
But there'd clearly been at least some people living. The buildings,
while haphazard and rotten, they'd clearly been furnished to some
capacity, even if it was only a bedroll with a few sheets. Some dirty
and torn toys were scattered around the houses, indicating that
some of the inhabitants were children. There were also wrappers
and some uneaten food lying around. Fresh food, so what happened
had to have been recent.
" The alien usually don't leave corpses," the Commander answered.
"Be on guard."
"Yes, sir." Creed motioned them forward. "Roman, check out the
body. Everyone else, take position. Overwatch protocol."
"Are they Cartel?" He heard Creed ask Roman as they knelt in front
of one of the bodies.
"I think so," Roman confirmed. "These weapons are top quality, and
this one is wearing a bulletproof vest. Not many civilians with both,
so they must have been guarding something important."
Hold up.
"Wait," Creed held up his hand for him to stop and pointed at
Roman. "Stay here, Roman. Weapon up." Roman nodded and
raised his laser rifle as he watched the street.
Once Creed was by his side, Soran walked over to the body and
knelt down. No, he'd been wounded, no question. A trail of dried
blood ran down from a hole in his forehead. "They were killed with
ballistics," Soran noted. "Odd."
"Yes, it is…" Creed sounded puzzled. "The only form of ballistics the
aliens use are from the cyberdisks, and I've seen the damage those
can cause. No way this is a cyberdisk; far too clean."
"Then who?" Soran asked, equally confused. "I don't think the aliens
chose to abduct when they were under attack from a rival group."
"I doubt it," Creed agreed. "And the body is fresh, so this wasn't
done a few days ago?"
Soran frowned. "What was that?" He wasn't familiar with that story.
"Patricia told me," Creed explained. "It was one of the first
encounters of psionics. The sectoid forced one of the soldiers into a
panic. It worked and he shot another soldier."
"Let's hope not," Creed muttered grimly. "Because then it looks like a
successful one if that's the case. Although something still seems off,"
he pointed at the shot head. "That headshot is clean. Whoever killed
him knew how to aim."
"Just a theory," Soran defended, standing back up. "If this person
was mind-controlled, this might have been the bullet from his friends
that put him down. Do you have another reason for why some of the
bodies were shot with ballistics?"
"So what's our move," Creed asked, motioning them to advance. "I
think everyone is gone. With an area this small, I don't think it would
take long to take them, especially if it's mostly civilians."
They all affirmed and began moving slowly through the shelters,
rubble and corpses. Ahead there was a warehouse, a clear
improvement over the current conditions. It wasn't falling apart and
seemed relatively clean compared to the rest of the area. The
warehouse door was in a pretty terrible position, right in front of a
crumbling house, which was arguably one of the best in the village.
They would be in a terrible position if they were ambushed.
"Looks like you were right about this being a drug plant," Vickie
muttered. "Look at all this stuff."
"All this stuff that's still here," Creed noted, concern in his voice. "So
the alien apparently didn't want it."
" Overseer Creed, be advised all the signatures we've detected have
vanished," the Commander warned. "Find a defensible position
now!"
Soran saw a flicker or orange coming from inside the warehouse and
frowned. Was that-?
"Look up!" Creed ordered pointing over to the right as Soran saw a
figure aiming another rocket launcher at them kneeling in front of a
shack across the street. And he looked just in time to see another
rocket fired. This time everyone got out of the way in time and the
rocket sped past into a shack and exploded with a loud boom. A
volley of laser fire from Roman eviscerated the figure and it was
dead a few moments later.
The sound of automatic fire filled the air directly behind him and
Soran looked into the warehouse to see it filled with… soldiers?
Human soldiers? There were at least ten, and all of them looked
heavily armored, some wielding rifles and others SAW caliber
weapons. Steel armor covered their legs, arms and chest with heavy
padding on all the joints. All of them had some sort of orange
shoulder cape and oddly enough, orange bandannas, some of which
seemed to have symbols or markings on them.
With a shock, Soran realized she was wielding a plasma rifle. How
had she…? He was forced to back into cover as a few of the heavy
gunners laid down suppressive fire on the entrance.
"They're coming in from the right!" Roman yelled as the squad tried
returning fire. Soran looked to the right to see a trio of soldiers
approaching. A few more followed behind them, taking cover behind
cars and shacks. The leader of the trio slammed a large metal pole
down and a second later it shot out metal sheets to the side,
effectively creating new cover.
"Ask that later!" Creed snarled, leaning on the opposite side of the
entrance as Soran. "Soran and I will hold down here. Take care of
the flankers!"
Creed nodded and on three Soran took aim at the far left soldier and
began firing a sustained beam and quickly moved right, Creed
followed suit. The first soldier was caught off guard and the beam
decapitated him, but the remaining soldiers got wise and ducked
under the beams.
Soran scowled. Creed had gotten one as well, but getting two out of
ten was not good. Under a hail of bullets, he quickly reloaded a new
power cell into his rifle. He could hear the bullets clanking into the
wall he was taking cover behind. Suddenly, he felt a lot less safe. He
snuck a glance inside and saw the remaining soldiers advancing.
That woman was clearly in charge, going off how she was clearly
directing and ordering the rest of them.
Samuel also took advantage and targeted the standing troopers with
his autolaser. The red bolts tore one almost in half and forced the
others to fall into cover. It did little to stop the sniper fire, which again
fired off two shots.
The bandanna obscured her face, but her eyes were filled with fury
and glee. Despite her short stature, he couldn't help but be a little
unnerved. He could swear she was smiled as she raised her plasma
rifle and fired it.
"Shit!" Creed cursed as Soran saw him looking to his left. Heart
sinking, he saw more soldiers approaching them. "They're boxing us
in!"
"We can't stay!" Samuel called furiously. "We're too exposed here!"
In one smooth motion she reached down, scoped the live grenade in
her hand and tossed it behind her without looking. All within two
seconds and the grenade exploded behind her another second later.
"Not bad!" She called out sounding oddly excited, which he assumed
was directed at him
"I'm suppressing these ones here!" Samuel called out. "This way!"
Soran and Creed dashed past him and took positions behind a
rusted truck and also began suppressing to give the rest of them a
chance to fall back. Some bullets thudded into his back, but the
armor absorbed them. For now, anyway.
"Rob, got you covered!" Soran called out as Rob was still shooting
from his position inside a shack.
"Understood," he called back. "Moving!" He jumped out and began
running until a plasma bolt clipped him and he spun into the street.
Two more plasma bolts followed and also hit their target. The woman
marched around the corner, flanked by several more of the soldiers.
"We're down two," Soran told Creed. "We can't hold them off
forever."
"No," Creed reloaded his rifle and managed to shoot two more. "We
can't. Big Sky, we need an evac now!"
Roman was still disoriented, but was doing his best to shoot at the
soldiers. That sniper, or snipers, really wanted their kill as more
sniper fire rained down around him, fortunately not hitting him
anymore. They were managing to keep these soldiers from
advancing, but they were simply outnumbered and were outplayed
from the start.
"Go! Go!" Creed shouted and motioned them towards the area under
the skyranger. "Roman, you good?!"
"Yes, Overseer!" Roman shouted and they all began running, turning
occasionally to fire a wild shot. Their armor was able to take a few
rounds, but anything sustained would eventually get through.
" Landing now," Big Sky told them and the skyranger slowly lowered
to the ground, ramp already opening. Almost there…
"Ah!" Soran glanced back to see Roman collapse to the ground, his
lower left leg splattered in blood. Soran began rushing towards him
as the skyranger landed. "No! Go!" Roman screamed holding up his
hand frantically as the soldiers bore down on them. Soran hesitated,
not sure what to do.
"Go!" Roman shouted again as they got closer. "They'll just kill both
of us!"
He was right. Plasma and bullets filled the air around him and there
wasn't any time. "I'm sorry," he told him and dashed to the skyranger.
Roman pushed himself up to rest on his good knee and began firing
at the approaching soldiers.
They simply took cover, rendering his shooting useless, but it did
force them to stop their advance, giving the rest of them time to
board the skyranger. Two more sniper shots rang out and Roman
collapsed to the ground. Blood dripped from the shattered helmet
indicating the snipers had gotten their wish and their kill.
In mournful and shocked silence, they flew back to the Citadel, trying
to figure out what had happened.
After-Action Report
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Deceased
Kills: 4
Status: Deceased
Kills: 3
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 4
Artifacts Recovered:
Once he'd seen it was going to result in a defeat, he'd enacted the
Zeus Contingency, although he doubted it had done much. It had
taken too long for the Raven to arrive there and all that the pilot had
reported was an abandoned village. They'd cleared out quickly, or
had hidden in the buildings. He'd ordered the Raven to raze the
area, of course, but he doubted much had been accomplished.
"I suppose you don't have an idea who they are?" The Commander
asked, crossing his arms.
"I know of no unit or organization with that particular color scheme or
equipment," Van Doorn admitted. "That being said, I do not know
every military group in existence."
"They're on their way up," Bradford informed him, walking over. "I'm
working to get stills of the fight, to see if they have any markings."
Ah, yes. He remembered her now. "Good, let me know if there are
any updates," the Commander told him. Bradford's hand went to his
ear.
"I don't suppose you know who the woman is?" The Commander
asked, looking back at the screens or the assumed leader. "I've
never seen her before."
"That bandanna didn't help," Van Doorn reminded him. "But no, I
didn't recognize what little of her face I could see."
"Or why she was carrying a plasma rifle," the Commander muttered,
turning to the holotable. "That's probably the most concerning."
"I doubt it," Van Doorn disagreed, shaking his head. "If so, why not
equip all their soldiers with plasma weapons? Furthermore, who
could possibly be ahead of us in alien weaponry?"
"I'm not sure these soldiers are allied," Van Doorn said carefully,
resting his chin on his hand. "Because wouldn't the same questions
apply? Why not supply your allies with the weaponry that will ensure
your opponent's defeat?"
"Hmm." Van Doorn didn't comment on that and instead looked down
at the holographic map of the world.
The doors hissed open and Shen, Vahlen and Zhang walked
through. "What's happened?" Vahlen demanded as she strode up to
him, concern in her eyes. The Commander motioned them to gather
around the holotable.
Bradford saw them gather and walked over to the right end of the
table. With Vahlen on his right and Van Doorn on his left, the
Commander took a breath and spoke. "A short time ago I sent down
a team to investigate an abduction zone. They were ambushed by
an unidentified human military force and ultimately driven back.
Vahlen started and twisted her head sharply at him. Shen also
looked surprised, but kept better control than Vahlen. Zhang simply
narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. "A human force?" He
repeated slowly.
"How many did we lose?" Shen asked quietly, sorrow showing on his
aged face.
Shen nodded grimly. "I'll begin converting all of our existing weapons
and armor with self-destruct capabilities. Though I must ask, how do
you want them done?"
"A good point," Bradford nodded at Van Doorn. "The aliens are also
likely to increase their force size once they know sheer numbers can
overwhelm us."
The Commander cocked his head. "And just what are the
specifications of this transport."
"At the moment, it's designed to hold up to four MEC suits," Shen
explained, handing him his tablet to see the designs. "They're
transported using by hooking and hanging them in the aircraft itself
and then dropping them when they're ready to deploy."
"Yes," Shen answered slowly. "But not all at once. We have enough
funds to begin conversion immediately of one, but we'll have to wait
for our next allotment from the Council before converting the others."
"One will do for now," the Commander nodded. "I'll see if we can get
additional funding from Israel and Germany in advance."
"EXALT," he spat. His face like stone, he glanced over to Zhang. "I
don't suppose you happened upon anything saying EXALT has an
army at their command?" He wasn't quite able to keep all of the
sarcasm out of that question.
"You know," Van Doorn suggested grimly. "Your theory about them
allying with the aliens doesn't seem so far off now. We're predictable.
The aliens know we show up whenever they abduct a town, so it
would be easy to tell EXALT where we were heading."
"It would also explain how EXALT knew we were using laser tech
and developed equipment to negate it," the Commander added as
he remembered the fight. "And I suppose the aliens would have just
given them a few plasma rifles."
"I doubt it," the Commander stated coldly. "They probably think they
can use the aliens; bleed them of technology to further their agenda.
The only issue is that it relies on the aliens being complete idiots and
not anticipating a betrayal of some kind. And since the aliens are not
stupid, it means they're also using EXALT. A negative result for us all
around."
"Unless they would actually prefer alien rule?" Bradford suggested.
"Fringe groups do have some odd values and wants."
"We need to find them first," Bradford reminded them. "Until then, we
need to issue something on EXALT to the soldiers. Even if you don't
want to release-"
The Commander didn't reply for a minute. "I'll speak to you about
that later, Zhang. That's a discussion for another time." He glanced
over at the General. "Van Doorn, see if NATO has anything on
EXALT. Maybe get Herman to speak to-" he paused. "Actually, no. I'll
speak to him myself."
He looked at them. "That's it. Dismissed." He gave his salute and all
of them returned it. All of them walked out of the room except Vahlen
who stayed by his side. Once the door had hissed closed, he turned
around and leaned on the holotable. Vahlen also turned to him, now
slightly taller than him from his leaning.
"You alright?" She asked, moving to lean on the table beside him.
"You don't need to be," Vahlen said, looking at him. "It won't work
again. No tactic works on you twice."
"You're not infallible," Vahlen reminded him. "And this isn't all your
fault either. If I'm not mistaken, Van Doorn and Bradford were also in
the room, were they not?"
"They were," he admitted. "But I'm the one who makes the calls." He
pushed himself up and walked over by the screens. "I'm not effective
here," he admitted quietly. "I can make decisions about our
deployments, nations to influence and court, our use of resources…
but making judgment calls through screens is impossible. I'm not
there and that's what's bothering me."
"Don't let one mission negate all your previous ones," Vahlen told
him sternly, walking behind him. "You've done exceptional for the
most part."
The Commander snorted. "Moira, you overestimate my level of
involvement. I usually leave major decisions to the soldiers who are
actually there . They have a much better grasp on the situation than I
ever could just watching. The most I can really provide is information
on the terrain or if more aliens are coming. Marginal stuff, really."
"Is that a bad thing?" Vahlen asked tentatively, putting a hand on his
shoulder.
"Absolutely not." Vahlen stated firmly, shaking her head. "You give
yourself far too little credit. What sets you apart is that you aren't
afraid of doing whatever it takes to defend us. You really think
someone else would have determined that the Hades Contingency
was necessary? Do you think they would have had the courage to
stand up to the Council? The MEC project? My own experiments?
Do you really think things would be the same if you weren't in
charge?"
That question was one he'd wondered and now, oddly enough, he
actually did. "When Zhang locates where EXALT is hiding, I'm going
to take a squad and wipe them out," he stated coldly. "There will be
retribution for today, and I will personally ensure it is carried out."
Vahlen gave one firm nod. "Do what you need to."
He gave a wry smile. "Really? You aren't worried I'm going to die or
something?"
Vahlen sighed and took his hands in her own. "Of course I am," she
admitted softly. "But I also know why you're doing it and trust that
you're going to come back."
The corners of her lips curled up. "You have enough to worry about
without me being overprotective."
She shrugged. "What else do you call it when you worry about
someone unnecessarily?"
Vahlen smiled and leaned up to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
Looking very self-satisfied, she stepped back. "Anytime,
Commander. I'll let you get back to work now." She walked past him,
leaving him standing there. The door hissed closed and he realized
he probably should move.
Shaking his head, he turned around. Not the right time to think about
that . He had work to do now. Best get to it.
He looked worn out; not tired, but run down at the very least. The
dark circles under his eyes indicated he didn't get much sleep, but
his eyes seemed unusually vibrant. Almost angry. He didn't sound
tired though. "Herman, thanks for coming."
"No, no," the Commander denied, shaking his head. "Just something
you might be able to help with."
Herman looked up. "Not the armor or equipment, no. But those
bandannas, I was involved in an African operation once and we
encountered some mercenaries that also wore them. Theirs were
green, not orange, but it's an interesting coincidence."
Herman put the tablet down. "I've heard of it, certainly. But from my
understanding, most of the intelligence community views it as a
myth. Sorry, I don't know anything about it, real or otherwise."
"Of course they do," the Commander muttered under his breath.
"Well, we have proof EXALT does exist and is working against us."
And yet, the Commander seemed convinced that they existed and
were responsible for attacks on them. "How do you know for
certain?" Herman asked, crossing his arms. "Forgive me for being
skeptical, but this is a borderline conspiracy theory."
The Commander sighed. "Perhaps, but it's the next logical step. We
extracted information about shell companies controlled by EXALT.
Once we compromised Germany for them, all of them were shut
down in some form or another. We've been tracking where they're
moving to and I've begun operations against them that way."
"And I don't suppose you've spoken with the President about the
operation in his country?" Herman asked wearily.
"Of course not," the Commander shook his head. "I don't know how
far their influence goes and will not risk compromising the operation
just to be nice. I doubt they'll even know we were there."
Herman sighed, then frowned as a new realization struck him. "How
exactly are you conducting espionage operations without an
intelligence force? Unless…"
"Don't get too excited," the Commander grunted. "I have a few
soldiers who have intelligence backgrounds. A few Mossad and
Kidon agents. I felt this was worth investigating, but it's nowhere
near a full time operation," he smirked. "How would I have time to
run it? And unfortunately, no one else has intelligence experience
besides me."
Herman eyed him. "For some reason, I doubt that words alone would
stop you."
"I have to pick my fights with the Council," he defended. "A good
portion already distrust me, and would never give me the authority to
spy on them."
Oh, right. "Yes," he answered with a nod. "But it's not quite as urgent
compared to this."
"Ah, she spoke to you about that?" He asked, not sounding at all
concerned. "I'm rather impressed she was able to do it."
Impressed. Yes, that was one word that could be used. Disturbed
was what he personally felt, but that wasn't why he was here. "Yes, I
do have some concerns about it."
Even if he didn't, he would almost hear the Commander's sigh in his
voice. "And they are?"
The Commander cocked his head, that answer he'd clearly not
expected. "Explain?"
Herman placed his hands behind his back. "With the way the virus is
designed now, it will take weeks before it even takes effect. That's
understandable and a clever way to spread the virus unnoticed.
However, drawing out the death of the sectoids provides no tactical
advantage whatsoever."
The Commander was silent for a few minutes, a small smile on his
face. "Clever," he commented, though Herman was pretty sure it
wasn't in response to his actual argument. "But contrary to what you
say, there is a tactical advantage to the horrific means of execution.
Fear." The Commander's eyes bored into his unsettlingly. "The effect
is demoralizing and breeds terror within the species and the other
alien races. Because if we can wipe out one species, what's to stop
them from being next? Aside from that, I feel it a fitting end to a
species looking to destroy us."
"I'm glad you think so," the Commander nodded. "You're dismissed
now."
He nodded and left the room. Alright, he had a lot to discuss with the
Council. He supposed that was as close as he was going to get to
changing the Commander's mind, but that at least showed he was
willing to compromise, provided he worded everything right. He'd
suspected that appealing to the Commander's sense of morality
probably wouldn't work. Especially since he wasn't convinced he had
much to begin with. So what would work? Practicality and efficiency,
that seemed to be arguments he respected. Arguments backed up
by solid reasoning.
"Come on," Ruth muttered as she and Abby laid upon the sparse
grass as they observed the factory. "Show us something."
They'd arrived in Russia a couple days ago and spent most of that
time getting into position before the actual infiltration. As Abby was
finding out, that involved a lot of sitting around and doing nothing. At
least the weather was pleasant, not to hot or cold. But quite honestly,
she was getting bored.
"Got it," Abby confirmed and made that note on her pad. "Anything
else?"
Hopefully. This place was much larger than she'd initially assumed. It
was slightly larger than some factories she'd seen in America, and
much better guarded too. It did make sense, especially if they were
connected to EXALT in some way. There were only two entrances, at
the front and back. Otherwise, the building was surrounded by an
electrified chain fence. To make matters worse, it was frequently
patrolled by armed guards, a lot of them.
They'd counted at least fifteen different ones just on the outside, and
an unknown number which resided in the factory itself. "A lot of
security for a company," Abby commented as she watched a pair of
guards stop a truck that was entering through the front checkpoint.
"Even if is a large one."
"No way could they afford this kind of security with only one or two
factories," Ruth agreed. "But, well, not like we expected anything
else."
"How soon do you think we'll move in?" Abby asked as she leaned
back against a tree. "He's going to be coming back soon."
"Let's hope," Abby sighed. "I think we'd actually learn more if we
focused on the trucks. They're clearly going somewhere."
"Really, and here I thought they were just vanishing into space,"
Ruth commented dryly. "But I get it. Which is why I'll shoot the
tracker on the trucks the next time they come," she backed away.
"We've got enough for now. Let's head back."
Abby grabbed her pack and followed Ruth through the woods to the
makeshift campsite a few miles away. Kalonymous was nowhere to
be seen when they returned, but Akello was sitting by the portable
antenna typing on her laptop.
"Well, good for you," Akello answered, shrugging and returned to her
laptop. "Meanwhile, I've been poking around their cyber defenses."
"You can't get in?" Abby asked, going over to sit by her.
"Don't worry about him," Akello commented as she typed. "He went
into the woods about an hour ago. 'Practicing," he said." Ruth
relaxed a bit at that so Abby assumed she knew what that meant.
But she didn't. "And what does that mean?" She asked Ruth.
"That means he's almost ready for the op," Ruth explained as she
sat on the ground opposite them. "He does that. Gets into character,
practices the voice, mannerisms and patterns of the person he's
imitating. He's the best disguise artist I know for a reason."
The only issue was that his face wasn't really close to what Madvay's
actually was. But from a distance… and in combination with the
voice… he could easily be mistaken for him. "That's really creepy,"
she said, not quite sure what else to say. "No offense."
"None taken," he assured her, keeping the same voice. It was eerie
hearing him act like normal with that voice and look. "I take that as a
compliment."
"I guess we'll move in tomorrow," Ruth said. "We have everything we
need. The IDs, disguise and transponder. So you and Abby will go in,
set it, and get out."
"Got you covered," Akello called out. "I made a separate ID with
some fake name that he can show if he wants to. A dummy card, but
it'll fool most people provided it's accompanied by a good
performance."
"I suggest we get some rest," Ruth said, standing up. "We've got a
busy day tomorrow. Now-"
"Someone else is also trying to get in," she explained. "Like, get past
the security as well."
"I can open a chat log," Akello said. "You want me to?"
"If you're sure they won't be able to figure out who you are," Ruth
answered. "Or let me put it this way: could you find the identity of this
person?"
"Understood," Akello nodded, her lips curling into a grin. "Let's see
what they want."
One theory was that XCOM had somehow discovered some kind of
criminal activity within the company, which might explain the security
and how they were doing so well financially. But there were some
glaring problems with that, namely that again, there was no reason
why XCOM would even care. And if it was, why would they not just
tell the Russians?
"When do you think they'll make their move?" Ren asked, sounding
bored.
"No change since the last time," he updated as Ren gave his rifle to
Olivia. "Nothing suspicious from XCOM either."
"Yep," Cerian sighed. "We'll see you shortly." He and Ren set off
back to their own makeshift camp. It only took them a half hour to
hike there and they didn't get much of a greeting when they did.
Mary was typing on her laptop as she leaned against a tree, only
stopping to wave at them as they sat down on bench.
"Not really," Mary shrugged and looked back at her screen. "This
company sure does have good security though. I haven't been able
to get in yet."
"Well, yeah. In theory," Mary explained. "But most of the time they
don't exactly follow through on promises."
"Well, well," Mary looked surprised and began renewed typing. "I
think I've found our XCOM hacker. Looks like they're trying to get
inside as well."
Cerian put down the bag and walked over and kneeled down behind
her shoulder. The screen was filled with lines of code, looked like
some form of C++, though he couldn't be sure. It had been a while
since he'd refreshed his knowledge on programming. "How are they
doing?"
Mary pursed her lips and tapped her chin. "Unlikely…" she finally
said. "Unless I knew exactly what they did to break in and could
replicate it. For some reason, I'm not sure they'd share it with me."
"Would you be able to detect when they got in?" Cerian wondered,
thinking. If they could… it might be a way for them to predict when
XCOM would strike.
"No," Mary shook her head. "I'll be able to tell if they go offline or not,
but not if they actually broke into the system. If they get in, the signal
probably won't be any-"
cin _
The underscore flashed, apparently to allow her to respond. Well
then. An interesting turn of events. Mary looked up at him. "What
should I say?"
"I won't dictate," Cerian told her. "Just let me see before you send it."
cout (User 2) I don't, actually. But I'm a freelancer if you must know.
cout (User 1) Touchy, but have it your way. Why are you interested?
cout (User 2) I could ask you that same question. What do you
want?
Well, that did make some sense. Though it was still too vague to
really read into it that much. Provided this person was even telling
the truth. A new message popped up.
Mary paused, looked into the air as she contemplated, then looked
down and typed a response. Once it was typed, she looked up a
Cerian for approval, He gave a nod.
cout (User 2) Someone I know went missing. I've tracked the culprits
here.
"You think asking who is too blunt?" Mary asked, looking up at him.
Cerian rubbed his forehead. "No, not in this case." Mary nodded and
returned to typing.
Cerian's eyes widened. Now that was not what he was expecting.
Mary seemed just as confused. "The hell is EXALT?"
"Well, it seems real, whatever it is," Mary shrugged. "You think that's
why they're here?"
"It's better than what we had before," Cerian admitted. "But it makes
no sense. EXALT was a conspiracy debunked decades ago. But I
don't know why XCOM would be interested in it now."
cout (User 1) You could say I've had issues with them.
cout (User 1) You can't. But if it makes you feel better I've already
tried to locate you and failed. Your identity will remain safe.
"Do it," Cerian ordered, standing up. Mary nodded and began typing.
Cerian left her to her work and walked over and saw by his tent.
EXALT. He wasn't foolish enough to believe it was actually the
organization of myth, but if XCOM had decided they posed enough
of a problem to warrant entire operations devoted against them, then
they must be disruptive on some level.
So the next logical step was to find all known organizations that had
something to do with the word EXALT. Patrick was going to love the
next update. Well, XCOM was probably going to move on the
company very soon now, so they had to be ready to watch and see
what they were doing.
He leaned back and closed his eyes. Best get some sleep while he
could.
"You think they'll notice they've never seen this vehicle before?"
Abby asked as they drove up to the factory. The car they were
driving was the only one that they'd been able to get and had taken
them here in the first place. It wasn't the prettiest thing and fairly old,
but it served well.
She hadn't been able to get much more than that, since going into
the more encrypted files would undoubtedly tip them off that
something was happening. But it had definitely made the infiltration
easier.
"Floor plan should have us take a left," Abby recalled. "We did enter
from the southeast employee entrance, right?"
She snorted. "I memorized every part of the human body. A building
is trivial when compared to that."
From the schematics, they were not going to be going into the main
production area of the factory, just a very short, direct path to the
security room. Once they took the elevator to the second floor, it
would be several lefts and they'd have to use Kalonymous' security
pass to go further.
In the event that the pass did not work, they'd try to enter manually
and find some way to break in. Worst case scenario, they have to
risk contacting Akello and having her force the doors to open. Which
was extremely risky with all the security around and the greater
chance that someone would intercept their conversation. She
wouldn't put it past EXALT to have listening devices planted or have
some way of intercepting signals.
They rode the elevator without incident and soon arrived at the
hallways leading them to the entrance. It seemed fine until they
realized there was a guard in front of the door. Both of the paused
just before the hallway turned.
On that cheery note, they rounded the corner and approached the
guard. He wasn't heavily armed, just bearing a pistol strapped to his
waist and wore an oddly formal suit. There were some odd
attachments to his wrists and he had an odd looking eyepiece that
extended over his left eye. The lens was blue and it flickered as they
approached. Some kind of identification software? Did such a thing
exist?
His hands were clasped behind his back, but he raised one in a clear
signal to stop once they were close. "держитесь пожалуйста," he
greeted in a surprisingly calm voice. Kalonymous stopped and Abby
followed suit. He appraised them, first looking intently at Kalonymous
and then at Abby.
The guard turned to the door and slid his own card into a slot by the
door. Abby could hear the click as it unlocked and he opened it and
motioned them inside. Once they entered, Abby took a quick look
around. The security room was surprisingly robust, it more closely
resembled something that she'd see in XCOM Intelligence instead of
a farming company.
All the equipment looked at the very least up to date. There were
screens displaying various areas of the factory. The security
personnel sat at chairs, making notes and performing other unseen
tasks on their own computers. All of them were so focused on their
work, they didn't even notice the two of them entering.
Abby slid the pack off her back and looked around. All that was really
required was that it needed to be plugged into a power source.
Akello had said it would go faster if it could also be plugged into one
of the computers, but that wasn't a requirement. Still, they wouldn't
have an opportunity like this for a long time.
One. Two and… three. Now for the power. With a spark, the
transponder flashed green from a small LED light. Online. She
smiled to herself and rose to her feet and stepped back. No one had
noticed and she casually made her way back to the panel. Perfect
timing as well, since Kalonymous was walking back, having an
intense conversation that she couldn't even begin to follow.
Kalonymous smiled and said what she assumed was goodbye and
gave a small wave. The man responded similarly and went back to
his place. "Online," she muttered, not looking at him. He simply
smiled.
Once the man had returned to fully focusing on his job, they left.
They passed the guard without incident and only until they were
around the corner did Abby breathe a sigh of relief. They'd done the
hard part, all they had to do now was get out.
But she didn't think they had anything to worry about now.
"I guess we know why they were interested in that guy," Olivia
commented as they walked back. "At least, I'm assuming they used
his ID to get inside."
"And out," Cerian added as he slung his rifle over his shoulder. "Very
smoothly, I might add."
"It'll serve perfectly fine for the moment," Cerian reassured her. "I
want to at least try and learn what XCOM is doing here before I
update Patrick. Until then, knowing their location is enough."
"And what happens if they find the tracker?" Olivia asked curiously,
looking over. "They aren't exactly amateurs."
Olivia shrugged. "If you say so, boss. You think Mary found
anything?"
Ah, so it was going to be this talk. "I did. For many years in fact."
"So…" she paused. "What did you do? Just reconnaissance?"
"No, it's fine," Cerian cut her off. "Trust me. I wasn't a fan of the way
my skills were often used, but to be fair, they didn't use them often.
The times they did ask me, they had usually tried every alternative,
at least later. When their initial methods failed, they turned to me."
"So who did you go after?" Olivia asked after a few seconds.
"You refused the UN ?" Olivia asked incredulously. "How did you still
keep your job?"
"The first time, I didn't," Cerian explained, this time glancing over
with a genuine smile. "They wanted me to take out some African
leader who was openly turning his country into a dictatorship. Once
that was accomplished, this man started a little crusade against
them; openly spiting them and refusing to even talk. The UN had
supposedly tried everything and wanted to remove the problem and
bring "freedom" back to the country."
Cerian adjusted his rifle as it started to slip from his shoulder. "Thing
was, he was a democratically elected leader who just so happened
to despise the UN. He wasn't doing anything against the citizen or
oppressing them in any way. It didn't take long to really figure out
why he was so hostile; he was afraid the UN was going to take over
his country and impose their rules."
"So what happened?" Olivia asked, taking a candy bar out of her
back pocket and starting to eat.
"How did no one figure that out before?" Olivia wondered, pursing
her lips in bewilderment.
Cerian snorted. "And just what is the 'assassin type?' Having walls
full of guns? Plotting in a dark room in an overly dramatic voice?"
Cerian pursed his lips. "You took down hitmen . Assassins are those
who remove threats to the population by lethal force as a last resort.
Hitman remove targets indiscriminately regardless of whether it's
right or not. Some do it on orders, others are paid, but they are not
assassins. "
"That's the first time anyone's actually tried to make it sound noble,"
Olivia commented neutrally.
"I wouldn't say noble," Cerian corrected. "Though I did try to bring
some respectability to the profession. There is a stigma attached that
will probably never fade. And I don't have an issue with that, it does
act as something of a deterrent to governments who are considering
utilizing it."
"I never really thought of it that way before," Olivia admitted, looking
forward as they kept walking. "Learn something new every day."
"Hey, don't jinx it," Olivia commented lightly. "In this line of work,
exciting usually means us getting shot at or dying horribly."
"True, true," Cerian chuckled. "I hope Darril or Ren made some
food."
Olivia shuddered. "I… hope not. I have yet to meet a man in the
military that knows how to cook something other than ramen."
She snorted. "You don't count. You had your own home and kitchen.
I'd be worried if you weren't halfway competent."
She looked up, confused. "What? No. But that doesn't matter. I've
found a lot of interesting things here."
"Technically, no…" Mary answered slowly. "But the thing is, they're
not making digital transfers. Several of the payments come in the
form of liquid assets. So not money per-se. There are several
suspect companies, but I want you to guess who their biggest
customer is. Go on, guess."
Cerian sighed, but figured it was worth indulging her especially since
she'd done exceptionally. "First, are we talking governments or
strictly corporations?"
A shell company. So, this put a whole new light onto why XCOM was
interested. "We need to shut this place down," Cerian said. "We
need to get everything this company has."
"How do you want to do that?" Mary asked, biting her lip. "I mean, it's
going to be hard to prove this without evidence, and while these
records do show highly suspicious activity, I don't think it's enough
for a conviction."
There was a chorus of agreement and they all settled in for the night,
proud they had achieved at least something of a victory.
Zhang gave a brief nod. "Good. I will inform the Commander. Are
you continuing to receive information from the transmitter?"
She wondered how far up it went. Matthew didn't seem the type to
be involved in something like this, but it had to be someone pretty
high up given the amount of money being spent. Well, that was for
Zhang and the Commander to decide what to do with this
information.
"I didn't find any names," Abby answered with a sigh. "Personally,
Matthew doesn't seem the type to do this. But with the amount of
money being spent… I don't know. It has to be someone very high
up in the company."
" I'll keep that in mind," Zhang promised. "Your work is done here. I
want you to converge on this EXALT facility and scope out the area
before our attack."
Abby frowned, a wave of cold swept over her. That didn't sound good
at all. "What happened?"
"Damn," Ruth muttered. "In that case, we'll have something by the
end of the day. They still don't know we're here, so I wouldn't expect
much resistance."
Ruth strode over to where Kalonymous was sitting down. "All right,
we're heading out now. Do your reading on the way."
Within a half hour, they'd packed up all their gear and were in the car
and driving in the direction of the EXALT facility. At first Abby had
found the scenery rather beautiful, but now it didn't grab her attention
like before. It was just another hill, tree or valley.
Abby looked over in the direction of the factory and blinked. The area
was swarming with Russian soldiers. At least a couple dozen with
military trucks and cars parked in the lots.
"Oh, that's not good." She breathed. Well, there went any chance of
the upcoming raid being easy. EXALT would be a high alert now, and
would cut any kind of intel to the factory, effectively removing any
chance to learn more from their files.
"If this wasn't going to negatively impact them, I'd almost wonder if
they were doing this on purpose," Kalonymous commented as he
drove past. "Seriously, this is going to make things much more
difficult."
"My guess is that they've been watching for a while," Ruth answered,
pursing her lips. "And it's just our bad luck that they decided to move
now."
"Guess we'll have to make do," Kalonymous said with a sigh. "Zhang
is just going to love this."
"On the bright side, at least there'll be more EXALT soldiers to kill,"
Ruth suggested. "Let's hope everyone's up to the task."
On that happy note, Abby settled in for the long drive over. Half-
nervous, half in anticipation for the fight ahead.
Supplementary Material
Generation I Thin Men stand exactly 1.95 meters and have unusually
thin arms, legs and torsos. They resemble a typical Caucasian with
short black hair. They tend to walk jerkily, as if the body they wear is
unusual to them. Their heads have clearly larger skulls than the
average human and are disproportionate to the face itself, spots of
some kind also adorn its neck, making it easy to spot. The eyes are
also reptilian, a clear clue that the aliens have not been able to
remove. The aliens attempted to negate the obvious physical
differences by having these Gen-1 Thin Men wear various hats,
sunglasses and high -collared clothing.
Gen-1 Thin Men are capable of wielding all types of weaponry and
are particularly good shots. They also have the ability to spit a lethal
toxin at soldiers. It is unknown how often they can utilize this ability.
Gen-1 Thin Men are exceptionally agile and can leap great distances
and survive falls that would kill most humans. Due to their lack of
armor, only one or two shots are needed to kill them. It should be
noted that upon death, some Gen-1 Thin Men emit the toxin they
shoot around their corpse, rendering the immediate area toxic.
A curious characteristic of the Gen-2 Thin Man is that this is the only
recorded alien communicating in a human language. They appear to
have the ability to adopt languages and accents to solidify their cover
and allow for a deadlier ambush. They are capable to posing as
male and female humans and retain the abilities of Gen-1 Thin Men
in terms of combat and agility.
It follows that the Gen-3 Thin Man would retain the agility and
abilities of Gen-2 Thin Men, if not improve upon them. What this
would entail is theoretical and impossible to predict due to the high
genetic mutability of this alien. It is not implausible for the aliens to
use a Gen-3 Thin Man to replace a prominent human figure, political
or military leader.
Note 2 : Please note again that this section is theoretical. There has
not been any indication that the aliens have, or are developing, Gen-
3 Thin Men.
Note 3 : While rare, a variation on the Gen-1 Thin Man has been
spotted in several missions. This Thin Man appears to have been
created for the purposes of long-range combat. These "Thin Man
Snipers" wield plasma sniper rifles and have had cybernetic
enhancements to their eyes and head, presumably to improve
coordination and aim. It is also worth noting that these Thin Men are
often slightly more armored than usual.
STRENGTHS:
4. Toxin: The Thin Man has the ability to spit toxin at a small area.
The toxin acts as both a poison and an acid and is lethal to
unarmored individuals caught in it's radius. It is also theorized that
because of this ability, Thin Men are immune to poisons and toxic
gases.
Counter: Step away from the field as quickly as possible and quickly
spray all wounds with a med-kit which is capable of neutralizing the
toxin quickly and safely. Alternatively, kill the Thin Man before he has
a chance to spit at you in the first place.
WEAKNESSES:
TACTICS:
"We didn't know XCOM would raze the area," Saudia defended,
pursing her lips. "Had we known that, you would have as well."
" As is our job, Director , " Diguon acknowledged, lowering his head.
Zara wasn't quite as thrilled, at least from her posture. Her crossed
arms and intense, almost angrygaze didn't exactly scream pleased .
" I wouldn't celebrate too soon, Mercado," she warned, jabbing a
finger at Diguon. "We might have won that battle, but only because
they weren't expecting us. Five of them managed to kill more of my
soldiers in one battle than in the past five years combined."
"I thought there were six soldiers?" Saudia recalled from the report.
" I'm not counting the one that was blown up by our rocketeers," Zara
clarified, taking a step back.
Fair enough. Saudia could understand that, but for this particular
engagement, it was less about the soldiers lost and more about
defeating XCOM. She did mourn for their loss, but they had died for
the cause, and she would never forget that. "Our next attack will go
much smoother," Saudia reassured Zara, raising her hands as if
placating her. "Especially when Diguon and Darian develop more
equipment from the alien tech."
" Assuming of course that we dictate when the next conflict is," Zara
contested, taking a step toward Saudia, who fixed her with a glare.
"You really think XCOM is just going to ignore what we did? They'll
be hunting us now, especially now that we've given them a reason to
do so."
Diguon pursed his lips. "That… is not quite accurate, Director. One
of our Russian companies has recently come under investigation
from the Russian government."
Saudia frowned, that news was new to her. " How ?"
" To the letter," Diguon assumed her with a sharp nod. "All our
sensitive documents were purged and replaced with dummy ledgers.
The Russians, and anyone else, will find nothing incriminating, let
alone information that would trace them to us."
"Do you know what tipped them off in the first place?"
" Our sources within the administration have told me that FIS
acquired documents," Diguon answered, referring to Russia's
Intelligence branch. "Unfortunately, we don't know exactly what they
contain. But I do know that the source was anonymous."
That was good, it made things much easier. "Good to hear," she
nodded, reassured that things would be brought under control. "The
Russians will find everything in order and assume the documents
were forged."
" Most likely, at least officially," Diguon nodded warily. "Although, this
might not go away as quickly as we hope. Elizabeth told me that the
President has apparently taken an interest in this investigation."
That, on the other hand, was not good. Even if the investigation itself
was closed. "Tell Elizabeth I want this confirmed," Saudia ordered,
beginning to pace as she considered possible responses. "The last
thing I want is the Russians interfering."
"The Russians will be dealt with in time, and I trust Elizabeth and you
will keep this contained," Saudia said as she laid her hands on the
wooden table in the middle of the room. "We have more immediate
matters to deal with. Returning to the subject of XCOM, they need to
be distracted now. I'm going to be speaking with our alien allies in a
short time and begin our first coordinated attacks on North America."
" And what is the focus going to be?" Zara asked. "Tactics or terror?"
"I have some locations that will accomplish both," Saudia answered.
"It involves the chryssalids."
" You sure he's worth the risk?" Zara asked, cocking her head. "I
don't feel comfortable allowing an untested and unscreened man into
our organization, much less a scientist."
"The science and our goals for the aliens will be enough to bring him
in," Saudia answered. "He's young and wants to help. How better to
help humanity than turn their tech against them?"
" If Matthew thinks he'd work, that's good enough," Diguon nodded.
"Still, sudden recruitments aren't done for a reason."
" Keep me informed," Zara said as she stepped back. "I'll let you
have your conversation with our alien allies now. Until next time,
Director."
Her hologram faded and a few seconds later, Diguon's did as well.
That meeting concluded, it was time to being the next one. A few
minutes later, the image of the Speaker appeared, looking as smug
and collected as ever.
That little smirk on his face aggravated her for some reason. It
screamed of superiority over everyone else. She wouldn't mind
removing it in various ways, but that wasn't the goal for today.
" Greetings, Director," the Speaker inclined his head in her direction,
the words rolling smoothly off his alien tongue. "On behalf of the
Elders, I would like to congratulate you on your victory over XCOM."
" One of their more admirable traits," the Speaker agreed, giving his
eerie smile. "They are excellent soldiers, if nothing else. We are
pleased to see our alliance is being… rewarded."
For now, for now. That would change soon. But now, they still
needed the aliens on their side. "If I might make a suggestion,"
Saudia began. "I have an idea for a potential attack that would strike
a blow against North America."
"That it is," Saudia agreed. "Now, as for my plan. Have you heard of
the island of Newfoundland?"
It was slow going, but she was getting better at it every day. Annette
had been able to replicate her brief mind control over the guard
several times, but wasn't able to maintain it for very long when doing
so. She still didn't know the finer details of it either, such as how to
make sense of the rush of images, sensations, words and feelings
that rushed through the mind.
Annette knelt on the floor and started breathing deeply. This had
become a habitual position for her whenever she attempted to use
the mental powers at her disposal. Her preliminary plan at the
moment was simple: extract every piece of information she could
from the guards, or anyone else who came her way. Then, once she
had it, plan an escape and execute it by controlling the guards.
The only roadblocks she was having were actually finding memories
or anything specific, really. She wasn't quite sure how she could ever
make sense of it, but she knew that it was her only chance of
escape. Following and reading current thoughts were easy now, ever
since she'd listened to the voices, it hadn't taken long to figure out
that they were the current thoughts of people.
She'd assumed that they were trying to communicate with her when
that wasn't the case; all she was doing was simply hearing them.
Distance also seemed to affect how strong or weak they were; she
could follow a conversation between the two guards in front of her
cell as if she was there, but she had to strain if she wanted to listen
to some guy a couple stories above her.
Another benefit of listening to the voices was that now, it was if some
barrier had been broken, allowing her to access her power in a more
physical manner. She was getting better at summoning the energy at
will, though was deliberately keeping it as contained as possible.
EXALT were watching, after all.
But that didn't explain why they were conducting experiments on her
and others. What purpose could that ever serve? She hadn't been
able to figure out where she was yet, but it was only a matter of time
before someone's thoughts wandered and let something slip. The
only issue was that she'd have to be listening.
As her breathing became steady she closed her eyes and let
everything wash over her. The easiest way to envision a black void
and then it would begin to fill with 'signals.' Distance was important
here, but did not translate into the real world. Nothing was linear
here and the minds of the two men guarding her could be in random
places in the void.
Based on the strength of the signals, she could also determine how
many people were in her general area. She detected twelve right
now, most of the guards, but there was one who she was fairly
certain was another prisoner like herself. She'd considered trying
to….contact him or her or do something but she wasn't sure if it was
a trap or not. Or how they'd react to someone else entering their
mind without their permission. They might know some kind of
defense and could hurt her in a way she couldn't stop.
She had to get more adapt at this mind reading skill before
attempting to contact another potential psionic. In the meantime-
She gasped. There was someone new, someone whose mind was…
cold, closed, focused . Her eyes snapped open and she quickly
shook her head. She'd never felt that sensation before, everything
usually flowed and was smooth . Not whoever this person was. She
felt the familiar call of the power within her as the familiar feeling of
fear entered her.
Almost instinctually, a faint purple pulse traveled down her left arm
and her hand stiffened as purple sparks jumped from her fingers.
She consciously relaxed and began breathing deeply again.
Releasing the power was tempting, but she didn't want to do
anything until this person was gone. Slowly, her hand relaxed and
she looked down at it, observing the tears in her flesh already
beginning to heal.
She'd never seen him before, that she was certain. Short brown hair
and a stern face that was impenetrable. Something seemed wrong
with one of his eyes, almost like it was… fake? No, it was moving
and blinking and the pupils seemed to work. An artificial one? Did
that exist?
"Subject Four," He said with a deep, yet neutral voice. "Please turn
around."
She swallowed. She could hear the voices and one that sounded
remarkably like his among them, but she was too nervous to
concentrate. "What are you going to do?" She asked, her voice
cracked as she recalled she hadn't actually spoken to anyone in…
days, or was it weeks? The only usage it had received was when
she screamed.
"That is not your concern," he answered, fixing her with a cold stare.
"You are not to be executed if that is what you're wondering."
In fact, that had been what she was wondering. But she was sick of
taking orders. "No," she spat, crossing her arms. "I'm not going
anywhere with you."
He didn't even look annoyed. "Suit yourself." He said and one of the
guards pressed a button on his wrist. She screamed as the electrical
current ran through her body, the white hot pain forcing her to the
ground and causing her vision to flicker. It stopped a few seconds
later and she was blearily aware of the man behind her forcing her
arms behind her back and restraining them.
With what seemed like no effort, he hauled her to her feet. Once she
was up, she took a few shaky steps to get reoriented, her mind still
swimming. Disoriented, she stumbled forward when he grabbed her
left arm and lead her out of the cell. She should have just come
instead of trying to be defiant, especially since this would have been
a perfect time to try and notice details about the building for when
she could escape.
The other two were clearly related in some way, though she couldn't
tell if they were siblings or a couple. Their brown skin seemed to
indicate they had Middle Eastern origins. The man was tall, though
not nearly as much as the other man. He had short black hair and a
oddly neat beard. EXALT must have provided some kind of shaving
or cutting tools for the men. Oddly considerate.
The woman looked the weakest out of all of them. Annette was
certain she was taller and she looked physically frail. Petite. Annette
was somewhat surprised she was still alive. She wouldn't have
pegged her as one to make it through. Her black hair fell just beyond
her shoulders, but was very untidy.
The man shifted, bumping into the woman who looked up at him and
then her. So you can do it too, he communicated. Perhaps we all
can.
She didn't bother to hide her confusion, and closed her eyes as she
felt the connection wavering. What?
What is your name? A new, female voice entered her mind. It must
be the woman.
Said, she responded. Tell him I say hello, so he'll know we're
communicating.
Ok. Annette focused on Said's thought stream. Your wife says hello.
I think we are, Annette answered. But I don't know. Who's the other
man next to you?
Matthew, was the answer. He's not as good at communicating. Not
as talented as us in that respect.
"Would you stop that?" A new voice said aloud. Annette scowled and
opened her eyes as she looked at Matthew who she assumed was
the one who'd spoken. "It's nice you can do that," he continued in a
softer voice. "But it's going to look odd if we just stand here looked
silently at each other."
He did have a point. The last thing she wanted was to have EXALT
figure out their mental abilities. Because then they might decide it
was safer to just kill them. "Fine. Did they stun and drag you here as
well?"
"I killed them," he answered simply. "They didn't like that. Would
have probably escaped if not for this damn chip."
"You could probably say that for all of us," Said muttered. "Or the fact
that the guards would shoot us instantly. Or that there is no way to
get out of here."
"Sure there is," Annette contested, frowning. "It might take some
running-"
Annette froze. If that were true… how could she ever escape
unnoticed? "You sure?" She asked softly, not quite willing to give up
yet.
"One of the guards let it slip," Fatima told her. "I'm sure."
Annette leaned against the wall as best she could with her bound
hands. "Damn it."
"Subject insert name here ?" Annette guessed sarcastically. "Or just
test subject ?"
"Not terribly subtle," Matthew muttered. "I'm terrible with this sort of
stuff and they might as well be hanging a banner over it."
With a click her restraints suddenly fell off and clattered on the
ground. She began rubbing her wrists as she looked curiously at the
ground. What was this? A light shimmered above her and then
materialized into the hologram of a man in a lab suit. He held a tablet
and appraised them coldly.
" Test subjects," he began. "Please step behind the yellow line.
Should you refuse to comply, we will utilize the chip." Annette looked
behind her and did indeed see a yellow line at the end of the room.
She sighed. Rebelling would accomplish nothing and she wanted to
know what they were doing this time. Apparently, all of them felt the
same way and walked behind the yellow line.
" Subject Seven, remain outside," the scientist ordered and Matthew
stopped and turned around.
Once the three of them were inside, new glass walls fell from the
ceiling, directly on the yellow lines, pinning them in. "You four have
been observed over the past few weeks as we made notes on the
manifestation of your abilities," the scientist continued. "Today you
will put those abilities to the test. Failure to comply will be painful."
" Catch the ball." The scientist ordered and the turret spat out a white
ball directly at Matthew. It hit him square in the head and he took a
step back. So it must not be that hard. He glanced up at the turret
and sighed.
No one responded, but the turret shot another ball at him. Instantly,
the air around Matthew's right arm became distorted, as if seen
through a heat wave. It was an extremely faint purple that
shimmered in the bright light that grew more distinct with each
second. His eyes had a faint purple overlay, but otherwise were
normal.
He extended his hand and the ball suddenly stopped and hovered
about a meter from his hand. A faint, purple field had enveloped the
ball, seemingly keeping it in place. Matthew twisted his hand over
and the ball moved right over it. The field keeping the ball suspended
disappeared and it fell into his hand.
Annette blinked. So, telekinesis was possible. She'd never actually
considered that possibility, accepting that her more destructive
powers were all that she was able to do. Apparently the range of
abilities was much greater than she'd initially thought. Did that mean
she could learn how to do that?
" Good," the scientist said. "Now for something a bit harder."
He snarled and extended his hand again and the blade stopped.
With a flick of his wrist he sent it flying towards one of the windows
and Annette got a small amount of enjoyment at seeing those closest
flinch as it bounced off. Two more of those turrets dropped down and
began firing.
But now Matthew didn't seem so worried. With his right hand up in
the direction of the turrets, he was managing to direct them away, if
not catch them outright. She had no idea how he was managing any
of it, but whatever he was doing was working. The purple shimmer
around him deepened in color and his eyes were now fully purple,
glowing with a dangerous intensity.
He extended his hand towards one of the crates that was in the room
and flung it up towards the turrets. The crate leapt from the ground
and flew at them with deadly force. Unfortunately, the turrets simply
pulled back up and the crate hit a flat ceiling.
" Clever," the scientist commented. "And proficient."
" Shut up," Matthew snarled, his voice layered. "Are you satisfied?"
" Almost." Yet another turret descended from the ceiling, but unlike
the others, this one actually looked lethal. It took her a second to
realize she was looking at some kind of rocket launcher. Would they
really-?
It fired at him and Matthew barely raised his hands in time to stop it.
Bracing himself and with his hands extended, he barely seemed to
be keeping the rocket at bay. With a shout, he crossed his arms and
the rocket went flying upwards and hit the ceiling and sputtered out
as it fell to the floor.
" Well done," the scientist complemented. "You may rejoin the
others." The glass wall containing them raised and he stumbled in
and collapsed to the floor. "Subject Four, Subject Twelve please step
out."
Swallowing, she stepping into the larger room and didn't look behind
as she heard the glass wall close behind her. Time to see what they
had in store for her. Said also joined her, looking somewhat
apprehensive. Given that they were both out, Annette had an
uncomfortable feeling about where this was going.
"Don't worry about me," Said told her, not looking down. "Whatever
they do, just play along. And don't hold back, they'll know if you do."
Before she could ask what that meant a burst of static interrupted
her. "Subjects Four and Twelve, you are to fight psionically until only
one is standing."
Damn it.
She began to retort that, no, she wasn't going to do that. But then
Said's words made sense. Just play along. Alright, sure. Play along,
for now. She wasn't going to kill him, no matter what they ordered
her to do, but she could put up a show for them.
His thought stream was fairly unique and she was able to pick it up
quickly again. You sure you think this is best? He walked over to the
far corner, to buy more time as he formulated a response.
She still wasn't happy about this, but as a training exercise… if this
did help her, and him for that matter, it might actually be a benefit.
She fixed him with a stare. She sincerely hoped that he was as
confident in his abilities, otherwise she might accidentallykill him on
her first try.
But at the very least, she had a good pool of emotion to draw upon.
Hate. For this situation, at EXALT, at these people who kept toying
with them, pitting them against each other for their amusement. She
focused on the feeling, feeding it until it reached a point where she
could hold it in no longer.
Said's manifestation of power was far more subtle. All that appeared
different was that his eyes turned to a glowing purple like hers. Albeit
far less intense. He'd better be ready, cause she wasn't waiting any
longer. She gathered a purple ball of energy in her hand in thrust it
toward him. Instantly he raised a hand and a shimmering purple field
appeared in front of him, absorbing the ball of energy.
The field vanished instantly after and he gave her a small smile. So,
psionics could also protect as well as attack. His confidence made
much more sense now. Glaring at him, she circled around as she
gathered energy for a push. He simply watched as waited, never
breaking eye contact.
She quickly planted her foot in front of her and thrust out both hands,
sending a purple-tinged shockwave of energy his way. Said quickly
raised his hands and a shimmering field materialized, but the sheer
force of the shockwave forced him several steps back.
Annette didn't relent. She threw more bursts of energy his way. He
managed to block them, but was losing his calm demeanor. She got
an idea; why did the power always have to converge around her?
Could it manifest elsewhere?
She raised her right hand and directed the energy towards forming a
psionic ball of energy over him. It materialized and she brought her
hand down and the ball followed suit, slamming into the ground and
emitting a massive shockwave which threw him into the glass.
She winced. It'd worked a little too well. He didn't appear pleased
with that as she advanced on him, looking to win this to get it over
with. He raised both hands in her direction, energy rippling around
his wrists, and she gathered power of her own until she just…
stopped. She couldn't move.
Said still had his hands extended towards her, his hands encased in
transparent gloves of energy. He must have frozen her somehow.
And from the looks of things, he could keep this up indefinitely. But
there was one advantage she had. Closing her eyes, she
concentrated on his thought stream. Once she found it, she
hesitated and then focused everything she had into one, single word.
STOP
It wasn't even a command. Just a word backed by strong emotion. A
distraction, nothing more. But it worked and he winced, giving her
the opportunity to break free. A shockwave burst from her, shattering
the shield holding her like glass. Without wasting an instant, she
thrust her arms forward at him, unleashing a continuous stream of
psionic energy and gas.
The shield flickered once, then collapsed and the energy hit him and
threw his back against the glass that he hit with a crunch. She
immediately ceased the stream when she realized what she'd done.
Was he- no, he was fine. He was trying to get up, and as she
approached, he raised a hand.
"You win," he told her, slumping to the ground, panting heavily. She
took a deep breath and let all the power within her fade until her
vision was normal again.
With that, she blacked out, the last thing she saw were the bright
lights of the ceiling.
Time for an official update to the Council. He'd been here long
enough to give some general impressions and to give them updates
on some of the projects taking place here. Ultimately, he'd decided to
speak with Tamara as he felt she'd take a more level-headed
approach to stuff like the virus and the necessity of an Intelligence
branch.
He set up his laptop and waited for it to connect as he sent out the
call. Everything was in full swing following the defeat. The
Commander was conducting a massive operation to find EXALT and
seemed to be heavily working with Van Doorn and Bradford to find
them. The impressions he'd gotten from the soldiers were almost
universal. They were angry and they wanted revenge.
The screen flashed and the face of Tamara appeared. Her face
brightened as she saw him. "Ah, Herman. Good to see you!"
" I agree," she nodded, growing more serious. "But I'm glad you
choose to report to me. The last thing we need is things blown out of
proportion."
She pursed her lips. "Yes, of course. And unlike many, I do think that
they do exist in some form. But not nearly on such a scale as you
describe."
" Unnecessary," Tamara shook her head. "The Council wants the
aliens gone and sees XCOM as the best chance for that. The split is
over the Commander, not the organization itself. We protect our
investments."
Hmm. Time to see how well that held up with his next request. "I'm
glad you think so," he said smoothly. "Now, I do have something that
I would like the Council to seriously consider authorizing."
Tamara leaned back in her chair, looking somewhat conflicted. "I can
tell you right now that this isn't going to go over well with some
people. The last thing they want is to give him more power and
giving him command of an intelligence branch is probably high on
their list of greatest fears," she sighed. "Look, I agree of the
necessity, but realistically, the Council won't approve it, no matter
how hard I push"
" That's not how this works," Tamara growled, though it didn't seem
to be directed at him. "They don't care about that. They only want to
know about stuff if it reinforces their position and gives them a
reason to dismiss the Commander. That's the only reason they want
you there; not to help XCOM and certainly not to help the
Commander."
" Pretty much," Tamara agreed grimly, not even bothering to exclude
herself from the implication. "And nothing gets done anyway
because all the sides do everything they can to block and impede
each other. Which is why your first focus shouldn't be on enforcing
rules, it should be actually helping the Commander win the war."
"It might be a better use of time," Herman agreed. "But I'm not going
to forget the reasons I was asked here in the first place, regardless if
you think they're unnecessary or not."
" Fair enough," she nodded. "Well, anything else?"
Tamara's eyes widened. "The entire species? If a virus like that gets
out of control-"
" I see," she nodded, the corner of her lip curling up. "Interesting. It
seems Vahlen's abilities were not exaggerated, and she would be
one to come up with such a thing. How does it work?"
"I'm not sure how the Commander is planning to deploy it," Herman
answered. "But once he does, there will be an incubation period of a
few weeks to spread the virus as much as possible. Then once it
does, it will slowly….decompose them, for lack of a better word.
Vahlen told be that it would effectively reduce them to mush."
" Yes, that sounds like him," Tamara commented, almost amused.
"Him and his terror tactics. But if it kills the aliens, I have no issue
with it."
Herman was tempted to drop it, but did have to ask. "And the rest of
the Council?"
She inclined her head. "You've done well. Keep it up and we'll win
this war. I'll take your suggestion to the rest of the Council, but I
would not hold out hope."
" You as well." With that she cut the feed. Herman sighed and closed
the laptop. And thus, he was in a situation where he was effectively
useless, exactly what he didn't want. He essentially had two options,
work with Warnup who had a misguided personal vendetta against
the Commander and Tamara who would likely overlook everything as
long as it helped win the war.
She hoped it was, for his sake. Even if he hadn't shown it, Patricia
was able to feel just how defeated and guilty he felt over the defeat.
She'd known to back off for a couple days and let him figure it out on
his own. Now when she focused on him, he felt… sharp, focused
and determined.
"Here, let me tighten that," she walked over and tightened the straps
on his breastplate until the armor was secured. "That good?"
"Seems solid," he answered with a nod. "Let me check yours." She
turned around and let him fiddle with the straps on her own armor.
"All set." He finished, stepping back and grabbing his gauntlets.
She rolled her shoulders, testing the tightness. Satisfied, she nodded
at him and pulled on her own gauntlets until they were smug. Every
part of her armor on, minus the helmet, she went over to the
weapons locker and pulled out her autolaser and secured it to the
back of her armor. Grabbing her helmet, she turned to face
Creedwho had likewise slung his laser battle rifle over his shoulder
and had his helmet tucked under his arm.
"Let's go," he said, motioning to the door. Taking the lead, she
walked out with him to her right. They stepped into the elevator and
Creed thumbed the button to the floor where the Commander was
located.
"I haven't forgotten, you know," Creed said after a minute of silence.
"Don't think I have."
He motioned at her. "Helping with your… abilities. I'm pretty sure you
wanted to get started before now."
He was actually feeling guilty about this, she realized as she focused
on him again. Which in turn made her feel bad. "Hey," she turned to
him sternly. "Don't you feel bad about that at all. I knew it was better
to leave you alone for a few days. Please don't feel guilty about it
otherwise it'll just make me feel like a terrible person."
"Sorry, can't help it," he shrugged. "I don't like not following through."
Patricia gave a loud sigh. "Seriously, don't worry about it. Would you
want me to feel guilty if the roles were reversed?"
"Sounds good to me," she agreed, and they stepped off the elevator
together. It was only a short distance to the Commander's office and
they arrived a few minutes later. The door slid open automatically
and they both walked inside.
The last man was one she hadn't met before. A rather lithe man, he
was just taller than her and had an oddly scarred face. He was
Israeli, judging from the flag on the collar of his armor and he
definitely looked it. His brown skin was darker than normal, at least
compared to Galia and his black hair was neatly trimmed back. A
crisscross of scars ran down the right side of his face, probably knife
wounds. She wondered if Carmelita had noticed.
He also had one of the laser sniper rifles attached to his armor.
Interesting. She'd noticed that snipers were somewhat lacking and
that had no doubt been a reason why he'd been recruited. She
wondered what unit he was from. He turned to her as she walked up.
"I don't think we've met. Patricia Trask," She extended a hand.
He inclined his head towards her as he took her hand and gave one
firm shake. "Mordecai Korhn, Israeli Unit 669 sniper."
"A pleasure to meet you," she answered. "The stories I've heard of
your Unit are impressive."
He gave a faint grin. "The tip of the iceberg, Mrs. Trask. I can assure
you I have far more interesting ones. Though I have certainly heard
a lot about you. I'm curious to see if you live up to the stories about
you."
She did a double take at that. About her ? "What stories?" She
demanded.
She hadn't had a clue that was even something that was going on.
Sure, she tried to be as good a leader to her subordinates as
possible, but hadn't really expected much in return. She didn't
consider it anything special. If anything, she was only doing the bare
minimum. Still, it felt good to hear, and since she didn't feel any
falsity within Mordecai, she assumed he was telling the truth.
Patricia couldn't help but feel a little worried at that. On one hand, it
struck her an incredibly noble of him to come along and share in the
risk. But on the other, if something happened… No, surely he had to
know that. Besides, he'd accompanied them into battle before, albeit
with the odds somewhat in their favor.
Everyone else seemed to get the same idea and no one questioned
him coming along. The Commander finished adjusting his armor and
once he was done, stood in front of them, arms clasped behind his
back. "XCOM Intelligence has located what we believe to be an
EXALT facility of some kind. What exactly that entails, we don't know
for sure. That is what we'll be finding out today."
The Commander pursed his lips. "They do not know we're coming,
no. At least that's what XCOM Intelligence believes. But expect them
to be on high alert. That shell company they were operating out of
was recently taken over by Russian forces. They're likely to be on
edge, even if they're not expecting us."
"So how are we going to execute this," Mordecai asked, cocking his
head at the Commander. "Frontal assault or as silent as possible?"
She felt a burst of approval from Creed and the feeling was also
present in the other soldiers as well. "Besides," the Commander
added, a trace of humor in his voice. "I think it will be difficult to have
an infiltration with Myra present."
Patricia cocked her head and appraised the Commander, surprised.
Myra? She'd had expected her to be discharged and gone. Sure, the
when she'd visited she'd seemed to be doing alright, but to recover
so quickly and be ready for combat?
Carmelita apparently had the same idea. "Myra's still active? And
recovered?"
With that he walked out of his office towards the hanger, the rest of
the soldiers following behind.
The first thing she noticed was oddly enough, not the giant robotic
suit standing by the skyranger. No, it was the aircraft also parked by
the skyranger. It was clearly inspired by the familiar aircraft, but it
was as if someone had cut out the back two-thirds of the aircraft and
just put some sheets of metal over the sides. She could see odd
hooks and gears inside, so it must be for transporting something
mechanical. If it was being used at all.
There were some kind of tanks attached to the back, along with the
largest laser weapon she'd ever seen. It was a least as large as
Creed and probably heavier, it also looked like a larger version of her
autolaser. Attachments with nozzles and barrels were on the arms,
adding some bulk to the already large machine. More guns?
Missiles?
"How?" Patricia asked, inclining her head at the open chest area. "I
don't see how they could fit into that. Let alone control it as well as
you say."
It wasn't the only thing that had changed about her. Her chest
seemed covered in a sheet of metal, though that might just be armor
of some kind, but it gave the illusion that the only human part of her
was the head. And even that seemed different. There were some
kind of implants above her eyes and neck.
But when Patricia looked into her eyes she saw… nothing. Just plain
detachment and apathy. It was disconcerting to her. There should be
something . She tried to get a sense of what she was feeling and
came away with… nothing. Again. Myra was there… but not much
more. It didn't even feel intentional, just… Myra wasn't feeling
anything.
Myra gave her a smile, but it didn't look like a genuine one. "I
volunteered. They told me what was required and I agreed to it. I'm
doing fine, Patricia, no need to worry."
Maybe physically, but something seemed off about her. She seemed
too… calm about this. And she said those words with the same odd
detachment, not helped by the robotic tint to her voice.
"Yes," Myra's tone almost turned wistful with longing, and Patricia
actually felt a twinge of… something from her. That alonegave her
some hope Myra wasn't all gone. "It's an amazing feeling. EXALT will
be unable to stop me."
"Suit up," the Commander ordered and waved the rest of them to
following him into the skyranger. "We're heading out now."
As they followed, Patricia took a glance behind her and saw Myra
getting into the MEC. Various clamps and sockets attached
themselves to her arms and legs and Patricia was fairly certain she
saw several rods go into her neck and head as well. With a hiss, the
MEC suit closed the chest piece and a helmet came together around
her head.
Unfortunately, that was the last thing she saw as they boarded the
skyranger. She hoped that the MEC was as powerful as the
Commander promised. Guess she'd find out soon. Once they
strapped in, the skyranger lifted off and took them to enact the first of
hopefully many strikes against EXALT.
The skyranger set down in an open field that seemingly didn't have
any civilization nearby. At least that's what Patricia thought when the
Commander gave the order to deploy. The wind whipped the tall
grass around her legs and the trees in the distance groaned and
rustled.
The starry night was beautiful and reminded her how much she
missed being outside. The Citadel wasn't a bad place to live, but
being underground all the time did deny her some things that
everyone else experienced every day. It didn't even cross her mind
that much, until times like now.
" Almost here, don't worry," he replied. "Approaching drop point now."
A few seconds later, the transport came hovering over, settling just a
bit above them. Patricia heard several clicks and the MEC dropped
from the transport and hit the ground with a thud. Myra didn't seem
affected and began walking over to them, the movement much
smoother than she was expecting.
It wasn't quiet though, and squeaked and clanked from all the pieces
and mechanics working together. Myra reached back and detached
her laser weapon from her back and held it in her mechanized hands
with surprising familiarity.
The streaks of moonlight that managed to get through the trees gave
a foreboding aura to the forest that Patricia was not completely
immune to. Anyone looking in would likely be terrified at the sight of
a squad of armored soldiers walking through the trees with very little
sound.
And it really wasn't that hard. There weren't many leaves or brush to
accidentally step on and give themselves away. Even Myra was
navigating very well and twisting herself to get through some of the
tighter spaces. Patricia was beginning to see the point about Myra
being "linked" to the suit. She was moving as if it was her actually
body; demonstrating a finesse that would be impossible if it were just
controlled with crude exoskeletons or manual controls.
The Commander raised a fist and they all froze. Creed fell to one
knee and raised his battle rifle while she stood above him, her
autolaser at the ready. Marten and Mordecai had also fallen to one
knee, their weapons also raised. Carmelita stood by the commander
and simply raised her laser shotgun into the distance.
Not just that… she frowned and focused further. Waiting. He was
waiting for something, or more likely, someone. Several figures in
front of them appeared, snapping Patricia back to reality.
All of them relaxed and Creed got to his feet and eyed the new
arrivals warily. The one woman she hadn't seen before. She looked
middle-eastern, probably one of Zhang's Kidon agents. But the other
woman she recognized right away.
"Abby?" She asked, not expecting to see her here of all places.
Though it did make sense; she was in XCOM Intelligence now. She
looked much different, wearing black special forces-esque attire,
some blast padding, pants, gloves and binoculars hung around her
neck. She did kind of stand out though, since her blonde hair was
still vibrant and reflected the moonlight above.
"Save the reunion for after," she said. "We've got work to do."
Abby shot her an apologetic look and refocused her attention on the
Commander. But the woman did have a point. There would hopefully
be time to catch up later. "We're ready to move when you are,
Commander." The woman told him. "Follow me to the overlook."
"Lead the way," the Commander answered and they followed until
Patricia spotted another figure who was lying on the ground looking
through a sniper rifle. The woman stopped. "It's a bit more exposed
out here. Keep low."
All of them fell to their knees and advanced crouching until the more
or less all arrived at a sharp overlook of the facility. Though facility
seemed like something of an exaggeration. The building itself wasn't
that big and appeared to be little more than a two-story warehouse,
at least in height, with some shuttered windows and garage doors.
No, what was interesting were the defenses around it. The perimeter
was just a chain fence, but from seeing some sparks jumping off it,
Patricia supposed it was electrified. There only appeared to be one
entrance that had a barricade set up in front. Within the fence itself
were multiple barricades and cover stations, no doubt likely to be
used in the case of an attack.
What made it work so well was that it was built in a completely empty
field, so any attempt to attack the building would require running out
into the open for a very long stretch. She wondered how the
Commander was going to solve that problem.
"They knew how to plan," the woman agreed. "But I don't think they'll
stay with a force like this. Especially with her here." She gestured at
Myra. "I'd bet that they'll focus their fire on her."
" Let them try," Myra muttered, her voice physically vibrating the air.
"Fire."
Three beams of energy shot out and Patricia heard fair shouts of
surprise in the distance and saw bodies fall to the floor. A second
later they each shot again and several more bodies fell to the floor.
As the rest of the EXALT soldiers started scattering, she let loose
with her autolaser, spraying red bolts back and forth across the area.
"Now, Myra!" The Commander shouted and Myra charged off the
overlook and towards the facility. Now in cover, the EXALT soldiers
were beginning to fight back firing ballistic weapons at them. Patricia
smirked, they might have had the advantage in Mexico, but this time
XCOM controlled the battle.
The three snipers kept firing shots, red beams of light raining down
on the area. "They're in good cover now," the Commander noted.
"Switch to the suppression method. Take zones and fire when they're
about to take a shot."
"Got it!" She confirmed and waved the rest of the squad to follow her.
"Spread out and hold fire till we're close!"
They all shouted in affirmation and they quickly charged down the
field under the starry sky. They almost went completely unnoticed.
What little fire that the snipers were not suppressing was directed at
Myra who was being utterly merciless in her attacks. Patricia didn't
know the specs on that weapon, but it was melting steel crates like
they were nothing and usually killing the soldier hiding behind.
There were sparks from bullets flying off of her armor, but they
appeared to be scratches, nothing more. And Myra responded by
targeting one specific target at seemingly the exclusion of all others
and killing it with mechanical precision.
They were almost at the gate and there was still plenty of cover
remaining. "Fire!" Patricia ordered, planting her feet and letting loose
a burst of laser fire at a duo of EXALT soldiers hiding behind a
barricade. The barrage missed one but slammed directly into the
chest of the other, throwing her back onto the ground, a smoking
hole in her chest.
" Cease fire!" The Commander ordered. "Let them box themselves
in."
They all paused firing, not lowering their weapons, but taking time to
reload and waiting for the smoke to clear. Patricia heard one of the
garage doors close and something faintly like a lock click into place.
"Think they're calling for help?" Creed asked, quickly glancing over
at her.
"I doubt it," she answered. "They probably think they have a better
chance of surviving using choke points."
She smiled. "I don't think they were expecting a twelve-foot robotic
suit to attack them."
Patricia nodded and took slowly advanced to the garage door, taking
a position on the right corner of it. Creed too the other side. The
Commander looked around, appraising the area. "Marten, Carmelita.
Secure the building. Make sure there's no other exits."
" Eventually," she answered, moving down to take a knee and she
tapped the garage door.
" Commander, we've only located one other entrance," Carmelita
updated. "It's a locked door, but we can cut through it. Instructions?"
Curiously, Myra put her laser weapon onto her back again. Then
slammed another fist into the garage. Patricia closed her eyes and
focused on the area inside.
Four people set up behind the barricade. Ten more up above. Not
enough. Not Enough. We can't stop them. We're going to di- She
gasped as the stream of thought overwhelmed her with the sheer
feeling of terror.
"Fifteen inside," she warned in a rush. "They're ready for you. But
they're terrified."
"Trust me!"
" With pleasure," Myra grabbed the garage door handle and pulled
away, tearing the piece of metal and part of the structure along with it
with a crack of stone and groaning and steel. With an indifferent
callousness, she tossed it to the side and was immediately assaulted
with hundreds of bullets flying her way.
The Commander had taken cover behind another barricade, but
none of them were able to even peek out into the storm of lead and
steel. Amazingly, the bullets just seemed to flow off Myra like water.
Scratches were piling up on her armor, but it didn't seem to be
damaging her. The way she simply observed the soldiers who were
firing at her was disconcerting for her and must be terrifying for them.
" My turn."
Cones of flame burst from her wrists, engulfing the soldiers closest
to her who likely died instantly. The weapon fire immediately started
up again, but now the soldiers were now running away as Myra
moved within the open area. She was in no hurry, focusing on the
soldiers who become disconnected from the main group.
Myra was now surrounded by bodies, living and dead that were
charred or still burning. The screams and smells of those still alive
were haunting, but she didn't feel the least bit remorseful or bad
about watching them burn.
With fire burning around her, the surviving EXALT soldier crawling
away in a vain attempt to escape, Myra looked over at the
Commander. "Hostiles eliminated."
"Come with me," the Commander ordered and walked into the
burning building, Creed and Patricia beside him. He pointed at a
room at the far corner that was close to catching fire. "Creed, get any
electronics out of there."
Patricia walked over by Myra who was looked at one of the soldiers
who was crawling away, leaving a trail of blood and soot behind. His
leg was burned beyond repair and his arms were warped and
scorched. He'd do. She knelt over him and wrapped her forearm
around his neck and held him in a chokehold until he passed out.
With a grunt, she hoisted him over her shoulder. "Package secured,"
she said, nodding at the Commander. He also nodded back and
motioned for her and Creed to follow him outside.
Myra nodded and cones of flame burst from her wrists as she began
systematically burning the building down. The Commander, laser rifle
in hand, turned around and walked away from the carnage and
exited the building.
Once they were outside and reconvened with Marten and Carmelita,
they all turned wordlessly toward the building that was slowly
turninginto an inferno. The Commander clasped his hands behind
his back as he watched the fire consume everything inside; the
hungry flames reflecting off his helmet's visor.
Myra emerged from the growing inferno, her suit steaming from the
heat. But there was nothing even remotely resembling concern in her
voice. "Objective completed, Commander."
"Anyone who survives that will never pose a threat to us again," the
Commander answered firmly. "And they will tell the story of their
defeat. Perhaps that will put some fear into them."
They stood together for a while like that, watching the fire until the
skyranger came to pick them up.
After-Action Report
Note: Really Bradford? This was the best you could do? - The
Commander
Personnel:
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Online
Kills: 21
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Kills: 2
Artifacts Recovered:
2. So, college has now started up for me and thus I must give out the
warning that I'm pretty sure I gave out last year about this time (Or
last semester, and it probably wasn't even for an XCOM story). Since
college is going to take priority, there may be a noticeable decline in
the rate chapters are published. Now, this may not end up happening
and chapters will be produced as normal, but if it happens, there's
the reason. That and that Mankind Divided is coming out and I'm
going to be playing that as well.
Thanks for reading as always!
-Xabiar
An Offer of Help
An Offer of Help
"I agree." Bradford waved his hand over to another analyst who
rushed over.
"Begin allotting the tech for our new allies," Bradford instructed,
handing him a tablet. "Make it proportional, based on their input and
size."
"Let's hope so," the Commander answered grimly. "I don't want to
lose another batch of research."
"Good," the Commander nodded. "I'll take your word for it."
"Yeah, I did when Bradford asked me to look into contacting the first
batch," Ariel answered with a shrug. "I thought it might be useful if I
made some suggestions myself."
"Central, call coming in now!" One of the techs called out. "You're
going to want to come over."
"Have you made any progress with the alien code?" The
Commander asked. "You or Zhang?"
"We'll crack it," the Commander stated, trying to reassure her. "It's
only a matter of time." He glanced over at some of the screens with
various news world news stations on them. "Is something being
monitored now?" He asked motioning to the screens. "I assume
that's work related."
Ariel picked up her tablet and began tapping on it. "Yes and no, we
mostly use it as background noise since we do most of our analysis
from official statements. But it's related. I assume then that Central
hasn't updated you about Germany?"
The Commander frowned and glanced over at Bradford, who was
speaking urgently into his headset. "No. He hasn't."
"Not surprised," she nodded. "It's literally developed in the past few
hours. Essentially, the dear acting Chancellor is heavily implying that
'dissidents' are soon going to cease to be a problem. Given that
most of his 'detractors' are the press and political rivals, I think you
can see some concerns with the wording."
"He has control and the loyalty of the military and police," Ariel
answered, narrowing her eyes at the tablet. "The acting Chancellor
is clever. He's using the aliens as an excuse for every questionable
measure he's enacted since the attacks. Creating the insinuation
that if you question him, you're indirectly supporting the invasion. Not
exactly the most conductive environment for a democracy."
The Commander pursed his lips. This was one of the largest
problems with regime change. Sometimes it led to dilemmas like
this. It wasn't inherently bad, in times like these; some freedoms
might have to be curtailed, but such measures should only be taken
against actual dissidents. Saboteurs, enemy propagandists and petty
terrorists were dissidents that could, and should be removed by any
means necessary.
"I hope he doesn't think we'll still support him if he keeps this up," the
Commander muttered, not directly at Ariel. "I'll have to speak with
him about his methods soon."
Well then. That was not what he'd expected. "And just what did the
Russian President want to discuss?" The Commander asked slowly,
carefully.
"He wanted to meet with you," Bradford answered. "That was it.
Preferably as soon as possible."
"I don't think it's related to our operations in Russia," Bradford quickly
reassured him. "At least it didn't seem that way. But if I had to
guess… he might want to work directly with XCOM. Russia is one of
the more reliable Council members. It makes sense that the
President would feel similar."
"Today?" Bradford eyes widened at that. "Are you sure it's not too-"
The atmosphere following the routing of EXALT was jubilant. All the
soldiers were in high spirits when the squad had returned and had
spent most of the remaining night talking and laughing. Noticeably
absent was Myra who had gone… somewhere. Patricia hadn't
figured out when, though she resolved to find her later.
She had taken the opportunity to catch up with Abby during the
unofficial celebration. She was… different than when they parted and
she left for XCOM Intelligence. Much more… focused? Reserved?
Something to that effect, probably her mentor rubbing off of her.
That other woman, Ruth, she was the epitome of what people
wanted from an agent. Charismatic, manipulative and ruthless. She'd
seemed to have mastered the art of expression, especially since
during the brief time they'd chatted, she'd put on a very friendly
persona which Patricia would have completely bought, had she not
decided to try to get a sense of the woman's emotions.
What she'd sensed was nothing but stark coldness and apathy with
some bits of curiosity. The emotions that one would have when
observing a potential target or enemy. Completely at odds with the
friendly woman she painted herself as. While Abby definitely seemed
to respect and admire her, she'd let on that she was more or less
aware that Ruth wasn't exactly a perfect person.
Humph. She'd not wanted to cause trouble that time, but she felt like
she had say something. Abby was an intelligent woman, but she
could be a bit naïve sometimes. She was a good person, which
sharply contrasted with the kind of woman Ruth seemed to be. Still,
that could come later. Right now she had other objectives in mind.
Creed was sitting on one of the couches, reading something on a
tablet. Everyone else was either sleeping or in their own corners
chatting with each other in soft voices. He looked up and
immediately set down his tablet as she approached. "You want to do
this?"
"If you're up to it?" She quickly amended. "If you need rest-"
"Nah, don't worry," he interrupted, raising a hand to cut her off. "I feel
pretty good now, actually. There's something soothing about
watching a building filled with your enemies burning to the ground."
"Myra certainly held nothing back," Patricia agreed. "I wonder how
the aliens will respond when she comes along."
"I'm sure both her and the Commander are aware of that," Patricia
said, looking around the barracks. They stood together is silence for
a few minutes.
"So… how's this going to work?" Creed finally asked. "We doing this
here?"
Patricia shook her head and tried to think. It occurred to her that
there weren't many good places to go if they wanted some privacy.
However…"You think the training area is empty?" She asked,
glancing up at him.
She did and they exited the room with no one seeming to notice or
care. The hallways to the training area were mostly deserted as well,
and the one or two people they passed didn't really acknowledge
them. The only other constant was the low hum of the generators
that permeated throughout the Citadel. Though all of them were so
used to it now that it barely registered anymore.
Fortunately, the training area was empty when they walked inside. All
the equipment was in its proper place and the room seemed
impeccably clean. She didn't know it'd always been like this or if she
was just hyper-noticing everything because she was nervous. She
had almost no idea what this was going to be like, if it even worked
in the first place. Well, it did work, but whether she could control it or
not.
"I don't think it's as simple as that," Patricia answered slowly. "But I
guess that's as good a place to start as any."
Creed visibly swallowed. "Right, let's do this." They both walked over
to one of the tables and sat down opposite each other. Patricia laced
her fingers together and set them on the table as she tried to relax.
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm nervous about this too," she
admitted, hoping that would make him a little less anxious. Even
without focusing directly on him, she could sense it spiking. Maybe it
was the reason for her discomfort?
She took a breath and closed her eyes and directly focused on him;
easy since he was the only one nearby. He seemed like the
equivalent of a storm in a bottle, at least emotionally. Prodding just at
the surface, he was much more nervous about this than he let on,
but was very careful in keeping it contained and controlled .
She wondered… could she help with that? Moving a bit further into
his walled maelstrom of emotion, she was immediately assaulted
with images.
A hail of gunfire over his head. Pinned down, not much time; not
enough people. They're going to get away. Screams as a man fell,
his body riddled with bullets. Two coming his way. He raised his rifle
and shot at them, feeling a brief surge of relief as both fell to the
ground.
Memories. Not just any memories, but those tied to the emotion he
was feeling now. Anxiety, anticipation, some amount of fear. Were
these playing in his mind now? Or were they just lurking under his
subconscious, fueling it? Alright, she had some idea of what was
going on and pulled out just beyond the swirling rush of images and
feelings.
She went back into the swirl of Creed's emotions. It was interesting,
since there wasn't as much visitation as she might have expected. It
was just the sheer power of feeling that conjured up images of
storms and walls. She felt a new memories appearing but instead
she focused on one word.
Calm .
Calm.
She just imagined and visualized everything soothing she could think
of. Oceans. Rain. She inadvertently began adding her own
experiences. Rubbing the belly of her dog while his tongue was
hanging out of his mouth. Reading a book on a hammock as a light
breeze washed over her. Paige laughing at her while she
overanalyzed some stupid joke and then laughing with her.
She was not expecting the wave of sadness that rushed over her at
that. How much different things had been. How different she'd been
from what she was now. But whatever she'd done seemed to be
working. Creed was calming down within his fortress and things were
smoothing out. Calming down… calming down.
With a gasp she opened her eyes and leaned down on that table,
feeling more drained that she had in… days. Her hands were
clenched and she her body was tense throughout. Taking another
breath she glanced up at Creed who looked just as drained as she
did. His face was unnaturally pale, but at the same time seemed…
fine.
"What did you do?" He asked, or more accurately, whispered by how
quiet he was.
"Are you alright?" She asked, worried that she'd hurt him
"It just…." He paused. "I just… started thinking of stuff I thought I'd
buried a long time ago."
"Well, you were clearly anxious about all of this," Patricia tried
explaining. "I thought I might be able to help."
"Sorry," she apologized trying to convey her sincerity. "I didn't mean-"
"No, it's fine," Creed interrupted. "I was just… surprised. It makes
more sense when you explained it."
She appraised him, pursing her lips. "You're being really calm about
this. I just altered how you feel."
"Well, that might partially be your fault," Creed answered with a small
smile. "You did want me to be calmer, after all. Perhaps I'll feel
differently about this later. It'll be an interesting thing to document
later."
"Right," she answered in a small voice, not exactly sure how she felt
about it.
"But I knew what I was getting into," Creed continued. "I'll be more
prepared if you do it again. So, I guess you did figure something out
today."
"Yeah, I guess so," Patricia muttered. "We'll see how useful it is."
"Look at it this way," Creed said, smirking. "After the war you'll be an
excellent psychiatrist."
"Come on," Creed said, helping her to her feet. "I think we both could
use some sleep. Unless of course you want to try again."
"Later," she answered with a sigh. "I don't think I have the energy at
this time."
"Fair enough," Creed chuckled as they both walked out of the room.
Russia, Moscow
It had been such a long time since he'd actually been at the capital
of Russia. The last time he'd come to kill a president, now he was
coming to speak with one. He wondered if President Savvin
harbored any hard feelings towards him, although considering that
they'd requested a meeting and that he was directly responsible for
the new president's position, he'd be surprised if the President felt
that way.
It had been one of the more satisfying and successful missions he'd
carried out. Time to see how the Russians treated him now. As
expected, there was a small group of Russian soldiers waiting for
him with a black limo behind them. They didn't stand out too much
since the airstrip was filled with soldiers at their posts. At least no
civilians would notice the skyranger that'd brought him here. The
President at least had the foresight to know that a public meeting
would cause trouble.
With the soldiers was a woman he was pretty sure he'd never seen
before. Dressed in the black uniform of a CT agent, she looked
impeccably professional. Making a good first impression, anyone
who was a CT agent automatically gained some respect in his eyes.
She appeared roughly his age, with cropped brown hair and an
overall stern demeanor. He wondered who she was.
"We've been considering reaching out more directly for a while," the
woman explained. "Considering recent events, the President felt now
was the best time."
She motioned to the limo door and one of the soldiers opened it for
him. "That is a matter that the President would like to speak to you
about personally."
He inclined his head. "Very well," he said, stepping into the limo and
taking a seat. He'd actually never ridden in any of these before, and
was somewhat surprised just how open it was. The woman also got
in and took a seat beside him. He buckled up, then noticed the
woman staring at him, amused as the limo started moving.
"You don't have to do that, you know," she told him, resting her
gloved hands on her lap.
Her English was extremely good, very clear even with the distinct
accent. "You're a CT agent I see. May I ask your name?"
"I was, a while ago," she answered, her lips curling up. "But the
President felt my talents of diplomacy were best suited for this kind
of work. I am Tamara Vasilisa."
Ah, now that name he knew. The names Ennor had provided all
those months ago were actually becoming useful now. How
interesting that she was the one meeting him and was apparently a
CT agent. "I didn't realize I was speaking to the Russian Councilor,"
the Commander said. "Otherwise I would have greeted you
properly."
"I certainly hope you would include me on the former," Tamara said
as she laced her fingers together. "I do my best to keep the more
troublesome elements of the Council in check."
"On high alert," Tamara answered. "United Russia holds the majority
in the Duma and thus the President was able to officially declare war
and begin increased production of military equipment."
"Good to hear," the Commander nodded and they rode in silence for
a few minutes, then turned his head forward as he felt the limo come
to a stop. "I see we've arrived."
"That we have," Tamara agreed and opened the door and stepped
out and the Commander followed suit. Well, well. They were at the
Kremlin. The building was as impressive as the last time he'd been
inside, and now that he was entering legally, he could admire the
architecture and construction.
"Come with me," Tamara motioned him towards the entrance and
they both entered the Kremlin.
It was busy with lots of uniformed men and woman combing the
area, performing various tasks. They did go through some
checkpoints, but Tamara was able to get them through in seconds.
"No guards for me?" he asked as they walked.
She snorted. "You are many things, Commander, but an idiot is not
one of them. I trust you to not do anything stupid or go someplace
you aren't authorized."
"True," Tamara agreed. "But this time you're here to talk with our
President, no? Not kill him."
"If all goes well," the Commander agreed and they continued walking
a labyrinth of stairs, corridors, hallways and elevators until Tamara
finally stopped in front of an ornate wooden door.
"And here we are," Tamara paused, then wrapped her hand around
the brass handle and opened the door and they both walked inside.
The floor was a polished brown wood, with expensive red and blue
rugs at various places. A stone fireplace was at the far end with a
small controlled fire inside. At the far end was a wall of bookshelves
and in front of the bookshelves, a desk that he assumed was the
President's working area. Two flags flanked the chair, the Russian
flag and the Russian military one as well.
Very slowly and deliberately, he set the file down and walked over to
them. "Commander," he greeted, extending a hand, his accent far
more pronounced than Tamara's. "I'm pleased you could meet so
soon."
"You and I both see little point in wasting time," President Savvin
commented. "Please sit down." He gestured to the twin couches in
the middle of the room. "We have much to discuss."
The Commander complied and sat down on one of the brown leather
seats. The President sat opposite him and Tamara took a seat
beside the Commander. Clasping his hands together, the
Commander got right to the point. "Councilor Vasilisa has told me
that this meeting was inspired by recent events, but she wanted you
to explain exactly what those were."
"Don't take this the wrong way, Mr. President, but how can I trust
you?" the Commander asked bluntly.
"Then I would suggest you use your best judgment then," President
Savvin suggested. "Do you really think I'm an EXALT operative?"
Hmm. No, not really. If that were true, his position would be
compromised no matter what happened and he couldn't imagine not
using that information against him. Now, the President had his own
agenda, but that he could deal with.
He'd actually done it. The Commander had been wondering if the
President was actually going to propose an alliance or simply talk
about EXALT. While he was extremely pleased and flattered at the
consideration, there was one major problem. He sighed. "I'm afraid I
will have to decline, Mr. President," he answered slowly. "But hear
me out here. My position with the Council is tenuous enough, as
Councilor Vasilisa has no doubt told you, and as Russia is a Council
nation, favoritism would not be received well."
He pursed his lips. "There is only one reason I've been able to keep
much of the alien tech out of the hands of China, Australia and
Mexico. Because I've refused to do so with any Council Nation,
regardless of their support. Should I open an alliance with Russia, it
will open the door to others demanding resources and further
refusals will only look selfish and slowly remove whatever goodwill
remains."
"And one you can perform legally," the President pointed out.
"More soldiers are always useful," the Commander agreed. "I will
have to confer with my own Council, of course. But if I were you, I'd
be keeping an eye on the bordering countries."
The Commander stood. "I'll count on it, Mr. President. Good day."
The Citadel, Barracks
What immediately struck Soran more than anything else after the
victory was how everyone appeared to just be focusing on the fact
that they'd utterly, and ruthlessly executed that EXALT facility and
apparently forgetting that it had been mostly due to a massive
mechanical… suit? Exoskeleton?
He really wasn't sure what the right description was. The suit itself
was called a MEC, so he figured he might as well use that, since
robot was clearly incorrect. He would have liked to have taken some
retribution on EXALT himself, but had understood why the
Commander had chosen the most veteran soldiers for the op.
That being said, the footage from the armor cams was…
enlightening. For a number of reasons. Instead of celebrating, he'd
spent the last few hours just watching the MEC, which was actually
piloted by Myra, utterly destroy the EXALT soldiers. He'd only seen
displays of power like that a handful times in his life, and none of
them quite like this.
This MEC had to have been in production for some time, and since
there hadn't been any malfunctions and Myra seemed to be very
much alive, albeit significantly altered, it seemed there's been some
testing beforehand as well. Which begged the question: How long
and by what means?
He could see why it would be kept under wraps, especially since the
extensive prosthetics and amputations would be controversial for a
number or reasons, but also because the only way to ensure the
participants safety was to actually test it on human subjects. The
Commander wouldn't risk his soldiers on an experimental program
that would result in death, so he had to be finding other means.
He supposed it didn't matter in the long run. And there was a very
high chance no one other than himself would really wonder how the
MECs had been made in the first place. As long as they worked and
killed aliens, that's really all most of the soldiers and personnel would
care about.
Myra herself had been absent from the main celebration, for what he
assumed were obvious reasons. Though he did wonder if she'd be
returning to the Barracks or finding a new place to sleep because of
her prosthetics.
He got up and walked out of the Barracks into the deserted hallways.
It was pretty late, or early, depending, so there were not many
people up and about. Fine by him, he enjoyed the silence after the
last few celebratory hours.
However… should EXALT learn about what the MECs really were,
he could see some rather damning propaganda videos that could be
released, real or not. But for that to happen, they'd have to either
have sources in the Council or XCOM itself. As far as he knew, there
weren't any in XCOM, but the Council was another matter and he
wasn't quite sure how the Council Representative here was going to
tell this to the Council.
Well, that was for the Commander to worry about. He really should
get around to speaking with that representative sometime, it might
be interesting to hear what a civilian like him thought about XCOM.
The hanger door swished open and he stepped into the largely
empty hanger. It really was amazing just how clean and organized
everything was. True, there were only three skyrangers and…
whatever that MEC transport was, but still, there wasn't any scrap,
tools or waste spread out anywhere.
The limited aircraft also made the entire area feel much larger than it
actually was. The slots built into the walls containing the Ravens
probably helped with that, which was actually another clever design
decision. He saw the deactivated MEC by the transport and began
heading over too it.
She hadn't bothered covering up her prosthetics, and only had some
kind of gray covering over her torso. He could swear it looked
armored. The legs looked incredibly basic and modular, though he
had to admit that functionality was really all that was needed. But he
would have thought that Shen and his team would have come up
with some kind of more… natural version.
At least the hands looked expertly made, at least judging by the way
Myra was fiddling with a screwdriver on the MECs leg. It didn't seem
impressive, but he knew that the hand had plagued prosthetics
creators for decades. He supposed what made him somewhat
uncomfortable was that pretty much every part of her had been
replaced with something mechanical.
She must have heard him come up because she glanced over at him
and stepped back from the MEC. "Coming to see for yourself?" She
asked, a light electronic tint to her voice.
"Yes," he nodded. "I'm one of the newer ones. Though I've seen you
before. I honestly didn't expect you to still be around after that
mission."
"Neither did I," she answered, stepping back. "But it all worked out in
the end."
"What was it like?" Soran asked, looking back at her. "Controlling it?"
"Hmm…" She looked down at her prosthetics and curled her metal
fingers into a fist. "What's the strongest you've ever felt in your life?
Multiply that tenfold. You look around, at the soldiers below you
frantically shooting their weapons at you and understand that nothing
can hurt you. I was unstoppable. Invincible. Alive…." She trailed off.
"Out of the suit everything seems… muted, now. Slower. Weaker."
"That makes sense," Soran nodded. "I suppose you'd get used-"
" No," Myra grimaced and held up a hand. "You don't understand.
The suit was- is part of me." She brushed her hair apart and he saw
that his glimpse had been right. Some kind of jack or plug had been
implanted into her skull. It wasn't large, but it seemed to lead directly
into the brain. "These prosthetics aren't for show," Myra continued,
letting her hands drop. "It's not the same now after being plugged
into a machine."
"You volunteered for this?" Soran asked, cocking his head. "Why?
Couldn't you have just received a regular prosthetic?"
"But still…" Soran shook his head. "You didn't consider what might
happen if it went wrong?"
"If I did, I don't remember why," she answered neutrally. "I trust the
Commander. And this was the logical thing to do. Besides, wouldn't
you do whatever it took to protect those you care about?"
He thought about it. Quite honestly, he'd never seen himself as the
sacrificial type. He'd never become invested in causes or ideologies.
He preferred to act logically and rationally, and yet, Myra did have a
point. "Yes," he finally said. "I suppose I would."
"All of us here probably would," Myra nodded. "After all we've seen
what the aliens would do to us…" she trailed off, her hands slowly
falling to her sides. He waited for her to continue and furrowed his
eyebrows as he looked at her face, with nothing but a vacant
expression and sightless eyes.
She was still breathing and keeping her balance, but seemed to be
completely unaware. He snapped his fingers. "Myra!"
"Ah, a glitch," she nodded. "It's happened from time to time. Nothing
to worry about."
"Not like I used to, no," she answered, walking in front of him. "I
know what did elicit responses from me and what I used to feel, but I
find that pointless now. Much more simple this way, not having to
worry about anything. Not becoming outraged over trivial things."
"It was a risk, yes," she answered with a shrug. "But one I accepted.
I feel no anger and neither should you."
"I see," he finally said. "I suppose, well, I didn't think that was a
potential side effect. It surprised me. But…" he trailed off as Myra
had gone back to working on the MEC, seeming to have blocked him
out entirely.
He wondered how the other soldiers would react when they learned
more about Myra's condition. He didn't really know her that well, but
she was one of the veterans from the very beginning. Knowing the
soldiers here, they'd likely applaud her for her sacrifice, even if it cost
or compromised her personality.
He would just hope that someone would make sure he wasn't used.
He could see how some might take advantage once they knew they
could effectively create a bunch of soulless mechanical soldiers. He
wasn't convinced the Commander wouldn't do something like that if
the situation demanded it, but as it stood now, he'd probably keep
the volunteers limited.
Well, he'd have to do his part to make sure these programs didn't run
completely unchecked.
"That's what I'm thinking," the Commander agreed. "And if they can
follow through…"
"I would be careful about this," Van Doorn warned, frowning at them.
"Russia isn't doing this out of the kindness of their hearts. They think
they can get more out of this than us."
"Of course," the Commander nodded. "But whether they get more is
debatable. Even half of what they promise would nearly guarantee
financial independence from the Council within a few months.
Furthermore, they need us more than we need them. They won't
renege on our deal or try to extort us for more."
"Unless it will benefit them," Van Doorn added. "The Russians will
take advantage if they spot weakness."
The Commander snorted. "The moment they try something like that
they can say goodbye to any more of our tech. The President isn't
stupid, he knows that if he holds up his end, I'll hold up mine."
"Are you sure about that?" Van Doorn pressed. "If we're wrong we
could be enabling an international incident."
"If nothing else, it'll keep China in check," Zhang added, crossing his
arms. "Assuming Russia can make enough improvements to gain a
technological edge."
"Let's hope you're right," Van Doorn sighed. "And what happens if
the Council discovers our subterfuge?"
Zhang gave a small grin. "Ah, the Council would love that."
The first picture was a few soldiers guarding a dusty street that was
apparently abandoned. But unlike most of IDF, they were actually
wearing some kind of body armor, colored in tans and browns. It
wasn't nearly as refined or complete as XCOM armor, but they were
clearly utilizing the alien alloys in an actual physical sense.
The Commander flipped to the second image and this one showed
soldiers in regular armor test firing some kind of weapon. It wasn't
laser, but neither did it appear a fully ballistic weapon. "You know
what they're testing?" He asked, looking up.
"I should talk with Shen to see how possible it actually is," the
Commander said. "Though I suppose the more important question is
still what Israel is planning to do."
"That, we're still in the dark on," Zhang admitted. "However, war
games have ramped up in abandoned areas and if I had to make a
guess, I'd say that Israel is planning to attack another country."
"Good question," Van Doorn pursed his lips. "Honestly, I doubt they
would involve NATO especially since they'd likely be outmatched. I'm
more concerned about the ramifications for XCOM . Especially since
we were the ones who enabled them to become a threat."
"You have a point," the Commander muttered. "They'd likely call for
me to condemn Israel, or at the very least, end our alliance."
"Would there really be any doubt on that?" Van Doorn asked, eyeing
him warily.
"In this case I'm going to have to disagree with you," Van Doorn
stated firmly. "Should this scenario, however unlikely, actually
happen, XCOM cannot be thought to support it in any way. This
shouldn't be a discussion."
Van Doorn sighed. "I know you view them favorably, but that cannot
influence how you treat them elsewhere. At best it will look like
indifference, at worst favoritism. They are not always right or
infallible."
"If I really trusted them fully I wouldn't be having Zhang watching
them would I?" The Commander shot back, crossing his arms. "I
prefer knowing all the facts before making rash decisions, not
reacting based on what others think."
"May I remind you that this is simply based off my opinion," Zhang
reminded them, a sly smile on his lips. "When I offered it, I didn't
exactly expect such a heated discussion on it."
"It's heated because it's plausible," Van Doorn muttered. "But yes,
everything is hypothetical now."
The Commander groaned and rolled over onto his back. Despite a
valiant effort, he couldn't sleep, as usual. After lying in bed several
seconds, he sighed and sat up and swung his legs off the side. Well,
no point staying here then. Best to be productive.
He dressed and walked out into his office and sat down in front of
the computer and pressed the power button after it didn't turn on.
Odd. He didn't recall turning it off.
Nothing happened.
All that came through was static. Loud static as well. He frowned at
the intercom. That wasn't right. He tried fiddling with the wire and it
immediately stopped. He sat back. "You get that, Bradford?"
" Miss me?" The familiar mocking voice of Farida greeted over the
intercom. He immediately slammed a finger on the end button. And
leaned back in his chair.
Well, so he had been able to fall asleep, so that was something. Now
he just had to find Farida, or more likely, she'd find him. He wasn't
quite sure how long he was going to entertain her this time. He really
wasn't in the mood to be yelled at again.
The cold steel walls of the Citadel were completely gone and
replaced by what seemed to be a perfect recreation of the Kremlin.
He was just in the lobby, but it was eerily quiet and there wasn't a
soul around.
Well, this was new. Usually the only consistent members of his
dreams were Farida, and sometimes members of his team from the
War on Terror. Not creations of his mind like that thin man. Who he
specifically remembered melting into mush the last time they'd
"spoken" and it'd tried to debate him on the Hades Contingency,
more or less.
Well, he was back and didn't appear any different. Still wearing those
black clothes and spectacles. Even the hair was exactly as he
remembered it. If his subconscious really wanted to change things
up, it could have at least brought in an EXALT operative to debate
him, because right now he wasn't quite sure what this was in
response too.
"You again," he stated as the alien approached him. "I didn't think to
see you again."
The Commander sighed. "And are you coming back for a repeat?
Because I have Farida to deal with in addition to you, so it might be
simpler to just end you now."
"No need to worry about your former wife interrupting us," the alien
answered smoothly, an oily smile on his face. "I've ensured she'll
leave us alone for the time being."
"I seem to recall that not working the last time," the alien pointed out.
"You ended up having to resort to more violent methods. You
surprised me last time. It will not work again."
He was not talking like any normal projection. By now he would have
gotten to the point, but instead he was actually talking to him as if he
was real. Which was… odd. More than odd, disturbing . Especially
since he was getting the impression he was missing something
pretty obvious.
The alien simply stood and shook his head. "Come now,
Commander. Do you really think that would work?"
"Then would you prefer I return to the more 'violent methods'?" the
Commander demanded icily.
The alien slowly walked over to him. "You are not the only one with
power over dreams, Commander . Your talent, while impressive, isn't
a match for mine."
The Commander felt flesh creeping over his lips and imagined that
had this been real, he would be terrified. But as it stood, he was
almost indifferent. Cheeky little alien . He thought, no doubt inflicted
upon him as some kind of revenge.
The alien cocked his head. "Not so much fun being on the other
side, is it?" He asked, somehow managing not to sound smug. Just
like stating a fact.
The Commander furrowed his brow and a few seconds of
concentration later, was able to open his mouth. The metal suddenly
became as weak as paper and he broke out with no problem. Eyeing
the alien warily, he answered. "Perhaps, but this is still my dream.
Not yours."
"True," the alien nodded. "Which is why you'll always be able to fight
back, no matter how powerful I allow myself to be."
"And it only took you several tries to figure it out," the alien agreed,
with a slight grin. "I would have expected the revelation quicker, but
your circumstances are a bit more unusual."
"Yes, that was me as well," the alien confirmed. "Not quite the way I
wanted to end our talk."
The alien glanced up. "Ah, that," he looked back down and continued
without any change in tone. "Simply put, I underestimated you. I
didn't think you to be completely cognizant of what was going on, let
alone being able to dispose me in that manner."
"Because I am," the alien inclined his head. "Last time I only devoted
a small amount of energy to projecting myself here and in my
arrogance, didn't think to give myself protection as well. It has been
decades since one of us has been defeated, mentally or otherwise.
But now I am prepared for whatever you might do."
So, if the alien was in his head… Fuck. That was utterly
compromising no matter how he put it. He wasn't sure if the alien
could read his mind, per-se. But if it could… "So why are you here?"
He asked, circling the alien. "Come to see what you can learn from
me?"
The alien sniffed, as if offended he would even ask that question. "I
cannot read your mind in this state, Commander. Perhaps if I
devoted more of my power, but I see that as a feat that would cost
too much for too little reward."
Well, that was good. Assuming of course the alien was telling the
truth. "You didn't answer my question," he reminded him. "Why are
you here?"
"To talk," the alien answered simply. "Along with a more personal
curiosity."
The Commander crossed his arms. "And what if I don't want to?"
The alien didn't look the least bit worried. "Normally, yes. But as long
as I'm here, all you will accomplish by ending your 'life' is putting
yourself into a coma or worse. And you wouldn't want to deprive
XCOM of your leadership now, would you?"
"Perhaps," the alien mused, walking beside him and turning his head
with a knowing smile. "But can you really take that chance?"
No, not yet at least. And he had no intention of leaving quite yet
anyway, but he was curious to see how the alien would react.
Perhaps he could learn something from him as well. Because he
didn't think that the alien came here just to 'talk.'
"I'll concede that point," he said, putting the weapon down and
turning to the alien. "But enlighten me, what could we possibly have
to talk about?"
"At our current pace, certainly," the Commander answered. "I would
say we have more victories than defeats against your kind."
"Hmm," the alien pursed his lips. "You do understand this is not
reflective of an actual war, correct? Several of our spacecraft landing
and you sending in your soldiers is not a war."
"Do you honestly believe that you are the most important issue we
have to deal with?" The alien demanded, pacing. "You are confined
to one planet. We oversee dozens."
"We tend to take the survival of our species very seriously," the
Commander pointed out. "I could not care less about what other
issues you are supposedly dealing with."
The alien paused pacing. "I'm curious. You still seem to think our
ultimate objective is the eradication or enslavement of your species.
What exactly do you have to prove this?"
"We did not start this war, Commander," the alien told him with a
knowing grin. "Tell me, who initiated the first military strike? Because
it wasn't us."
"A fair point, I can understand the reasoning," the alien nodded,
surprising him. "But no human is used in vain. All serve a greater
purpose, which in your case, will be the survival of your species."
"Oh, I assure you, we're gaining much more," the alien answered.
"But I believe I'm getting off topic here. Who is this war currently
serving, Commander? Because I don't think you believe you can win
against us anymore than I do."
"Better for us to die than live under you," the Commander answered
coldly. "You might win, but I'll ensure many of you will die in the
process."
"How violent," the alien actually sounded sad . "Your species has
proven themselves resilient. We don't need to continue this conflict
anymore. Surrender to us and I promise your species will be treated
as if this war had never taken place. Imagine how much greater you
could be working with us instead of trying to kill us."
It was odd, but the Commander got the impression that the alien was
actually being genuine. It still changed nothing, but it was interesting.
"While I appreciate the very generous offer, I'm going to have to
decline," he answered, crossing his arms. "We don't need you to
advance. We'll forge our own path without your help. We will not be
dependent to you, nor will we be subservient. Humanity will not
capitulate until there is no choice, and most of us not even then,"
"Then we are still at war," the Commander stated firmly. "Sorry if that
wasn't what you wanted to hear."
"I am not surprised," the alien sighed. "But I cannot fault you for
feeling that way, as misguided and egotistical as it is."
The alien looked at him, that eerie smile still on it's face. "Almost. I
did come for another reason. A personal experiment of mine, simply
to see if it would work. And by the sounds of things, I think it did."
The Commander frowned. "What are you talking about? And how do
you know?"
"Write out the first words that come to your mind," the alien
suggested, pointing at him. The Commander looked down at the pad
of paper and pen that had materialized in his hands. Let's see… first
things that came to his mind. End the dream . Fine, that would do.
Glaring at the alien, he wrote on the paper.
He sighed and looked down at the paper. His eyes widened when he
saw what he'd written. It wasn't English, or anything close to a
recognizable language. It was in the flowing, hieroglyphic language
he'd seen from the alien tech they'd recovered. Glyphs and symbols
that the scientists were still trying to figure out.
He took a deep breath and looked over at the alien calmly observing
him. "[What did you do to me?]" He asked, aware they were now
speaking in the alien language.
"I do, and I'm interested to see how you utilize it," the alien answered
with a smile. "It will not affect the outcome of this war, so I see no
reason to withhold this simply because of traditional wartime rules."
Oh, Vahlen was just going to love this. He imagined that all of them
would be torn between concern and amazement that the alien would
actually give something like this up. It made no sense. At all. "Thank
you?" He asked, not really sure how else to respond. "And is there
some catch I should be aware of?"
"If there was, would I tell you?" The alien asked, amused. "But no.
Until next time, Commander." With that he vanished, leaving him
alone.
What the hell had happened? For one, he was starting to get the
suspicious that this was just a dream because there was just no way
their enemy would just give them one of the keys to understanding
their technology. And if they were still that confident of their victory,
even after that… it didn't bode well, no matter how he looked at it.
Especially if they controlled dozens of planets as the alien had
claimed.
"About time," the voice of Farida called behind him. "Are you that
weak that you couldn't get rid of something inside your own head?"
Oh, boy. How the hell was he going to explain any of this?
Now, assuming the alien had been telling the truth throughout that
entire exchange, there was a lot of interesting details to work out. He
suspected Vahlen would be more fascinated than worried by the
event, especially since he could now understand the alien language.
The rest of them? Probably not as enthused.
At the very least they were going to make some progress on the
alien code, assuming of course that the alien hadn't played a joke on
him by giving him the knowledge to understand some dialect that
was dead. Wouldn't that be funny. Humph. Well, that appeal to
surrender had certainly been endearing, if a little odd.
For a species that apparently wanted peace, they sure didn't know
how best to express that desire. The alien didn't strike him as entirely
unreasonable, or an idiot, so he wondered if that conversation had
really been endorsed by this alien collective as a whole. The alien
had pretty much admitted he'd wanted to speak on his own and
labeled the whole transferring language process as an "experiment."
It seemed far too informal to be anything other than a personal
interest, if that.
However, the fact that the alien had even reached out indicated that
XCOM was making enough problems for them to be concerned,
despite what the alien had claimed. Armies that were winning didn't
usually offer such good surrender terms, let alone ones that was
clearly more advanced than their opponent.
But by not putting their best forward, they'd given humanity a chance
to advance and now that they had MECs, laser weaponry, alloy
armoring, soon to be genetically modified soldiers and the alien
code, XCOM and humanity stood a very real chance of putting up a
fight. Especially if tech kept advancing.
He scowled. This had brought up questions he'd put aside since he'd
been so busy, but was now being forced to reconsider. Unfortunately,
he didn't have any better answers now either. Well, this whole
incident had shot his plans for the day, which had been primarily to
interrogate that EXALT operative they'd recovered.
He would still get around to that, but not for a least a days as at the
moment, there were more important things to worry about. He
suspected Herman was going to come by at some point about the
MEC and that would be an interesting chat. Fortunately, the
representative was not being as disruptive as he'd expected. He was
clearly in support of the Council, but was smart enough to think for
himself. He wondered if Herman had asked about an Intelligence
branch. Most likely he'd been shot down, but it was the thought that
counted, at least in this case.
What was different was that her hair was loose, falling just to her
shoulders. He realized he'd never seen it like that, since Vahlen kept
it tied up when she was working. It was rather attractive, he had to
admit. He wondered what had prompted it, but he certainly wasn't
going to complain. Still, it didn't completely distract him from more
serious matters.
"You wanted to see me?" Vahlen asked, stopping in front of his desk.
He stood and rubbed his forehead. "Yes. I figured I'd tell you first."
"No worse than usual, I think," he answered, flattered that she was
concerned. "But well, this time it was different." He paused. Better to
just get it out right away. "I think one of the aliens made contact with
me through them."
Vahlen blinked. "It… talked with you?" She said almost in disbelief.
"… How? "
"Are you asking how it made contact in the first place, or how it
talked with me?" The Commander asked, crossing his arms as he
sighed
"I got that impression," the Commander agreed. "It didn't sound like I
was speaking with a subordinate. Though he still appeared to me as
a thin man."
"So would this mean that the master alien species is one we haven't
encountered?" Vahlen asked, mostly to herself. "Or just something to
throw us off?"
"But we don't know who the master species is," the Commander
pointed out. "Something that the aliens wisely want to keep hidden."
"I… assume that they didn't learn anything," Vahlen wondered
slowly. "I don't like to ask but…"
He leaned on the table and looked at Vahlen. "I don't think the alien
learned anything from our exchange, since he'd actually appeared a
few months back. Except back then I didn't know he was an alien
and assumed he was another projection. Since they don't appear to
have used any kind information they shouldn't have, I doubt that this
time is different." He shrugged. "But again, I don't know for sure."
"Alright," Vahlen tapped a finger on her chin. "So, what did you talk
about? Did you learn anything?"
"This is incredible!" Vahlen exclaimed, her face lighting up. "We can
use this to break the alien code! Not to mention translating all the
markings on their equipment."
"I assume you're going to tell the others about it," Vahlen said. "They
have to know where you got it."
Hmm. Well that was unexpected, though it had been a while since
they'd last spoken. Something must have come up or they had some
new grievance to bring against him. This definitely wasn't going to be
a normal chat.
Not that it had really ever been. But tensions had been a lot lower in
the beginning. He turned to the screen behind him and prepared to
receive the call. "I'll let you take the call," Vahlen said as she made to
leave.
"You don't have to," the Commander told her, glancing back. "I have
no issue with you participating."
Her lips twitched. "I didn't come prepared for a Council meeting."
He gave a sniff then smiled. "If you're worried about how you look, I
can assure you that you look good. I like what you've done with your
hair."
She brushed a few strands behind her ears. "Well, thank you. I'm
glad you think so. But I didn't really do anything to it."
Ah, there she was taking him literally again. "The point is you look
fine," he waved her over by him. "Come on, let's see what the
Council has to say to us."
" That it has," the deep synthesized voice of the Speaker answered,
who also briefly inclined his head towards the Commander. "Much
has happened since we spoke that, though I am pleased to see you
well."
Well, how nice of him. Regardless of his opinions of the Council, the
Speaker had proven to be the most reasonable person he'd met on
the Council. He didn't know whether the man was really like that or
just that dedicated to impartiality. Whatever the case, he was
someone who deserved respect.
" Tensions have lowered after our representative was sent," the
Speaker answered. "Though the sides have not changed. You have
done nothing new to provoke the ones opposed to you, though they
most likely suspect you're not being honest to begin with."
Well, well. That would explain why the representative they'd sent
was much more reasonable than he'd assumed. So Tamara was the
one behind it, though if Russia held enough influence to ensure this
passed, he wondered why they didn't strike sending someone at all.
Perhaps she'd done the best she could, but he still wondered.
"I see," he finally said. "I wasn't aware your representative was the
cause of so much controversy."
" The Council would prefer to keep their internal disputes quiet, as
you would no doubt understand," the Speaker answered.
"Regardless, Representative Diederick has not reported anything
suspicious to the Council, and is not the purpose of this call."
The Commander clasped his hands behind his back. "And may I ask
what the purpose is ?"
Hmm. How much to tell. There really wasn't anything that damaging
he could really report. At least with Germany. The weapon tests
Israel was conducting didn't have to, nor should be, be mentioned.
"Israel has not shared its future plans with XCOM," the Commander
answered honestly. "Though I wouldn't expect them too anyway.
International affairs are not XCOM's concern, as the Council has
made quite clear."
That was rather satisfying to say, and he just realized that he now
had an out whenever they wanted information about other countries.
He could just use their own words against them, creating deniability
even if both of them knew it wasn't plausible. Their own fault,
unfortunately.
"As for Germany, we're still watching the situation," the Commander
continued. "I can assure the Council that if the Chancellor continues
his crackdown, then I will personally deal with it."
He felt Vahlen stiffen in indignation and had to agree. Really, did they
honestly expect that to work? And they must not have heard about
the recent alliances with the South American countries otherwise
they would have included some ridiculous reason to sever those as
well. There was absolutely no way he was going to be solely reliant
on the Council nations again.
"With that settled, may I ask what the second topic is?" The
Commander asked, ready to move on.
" Yes," the Speaker nodded. "We have acquired information that
shows a fishing port in Newfoundland has gone dark several hours
ago. We suspect alien activity."
" Since the port is a much higher profile than the normal targets, we
were able to determine they'd gone dark far quicker than usual," the
Speaker said. "We don't know how the attacks were carried out, but
if you send a team soon, you might stop them before they cause too
much damage."
" Put it to good use, Commander, " the Speaker answered. "Good
luck. We will be watching."
"I'll tell Bradford now," she said and turned to leave. "Good luck,
Commander."
He gave her a smile. "Thanks, Moira. We'll get everything sorted out
with my head after the mission. I know you're probably wanting to
run some tests."
She simply gave a smile and walked out and he focused on his
computer screen. Time to get to work.
"True," Samuel chuckled and cocked his head. "You knew about
that?"
"Yes," Soran confirmed with a nod as he ate some more of the soup.
"I wanted to learn more after hearing about their… reputation."
"So you don't know who you're going to vote for?" Soran asked to
clarify.
Soran eyed him skeptically. "I highly doubt this war is going to be
ended quickly ."
"Probably not," Samuel agreed. "I'd imagine this alien war will be
more or less decided before it even gets that to the actual election. A
lot can happen in a year."
"That it can," Soran noted softly. They ate in silence for a few
minutes, the only disruption coming when a woman came up beside
him.
"Appreciated," she answered and did sit beside him and began
eating.
After a few minutes, Samuel spoke. "I don't believe we've met,
ma'am."
Well, well, wasn't that interesting. The MSS were one of the most
highly regarded intelligence organizations in the world, and counted
among the most dangerous as it was a Chinese organization. While
he had little issue with the MSS, or Chinese for that matter, others
weren't so forgiving. Samuel might be one, judging by how he
pursed his lips after she spoke.
His voice was a bit tighter, though not much. "Samuel Roche. Army
Ranger."
"Not all of us are the cloak and dagger type," Shun responded
neutrally. "I would consider it a flawed organization if intelligence
groups didn't have some kind of combat-trained personnel. Which I
believe I am adequate at."
"I suppose we'll see," Soran said. "Though I doubt you will let us
down. XCOM only recruits from the best."
"That they do," Shun agreed. "Though Samuel here does have a
point. I do know there was some discussion on whether I was the
best candidate to send instead of our more… traditional soldiers."
"I would have thought China kept a closer lid on their discussions,"
Samuel commented. "For you to hear that sounds odd."
She snorted and gave him a smug grin. "Don't believe everything
you hear from American propaganda. I was well aware who else was
being considered and they told me it was a close decision. But they
felt that I was best choice in the end."
"It appears I'll be coming along as well," she said, glancing up at him.
"Perhaps you'll see what I can do."
"Good luck," Samuel told him. "Kill some aliens for me."
Soran gave a mock salute. "Will do." Then left the Mess Hall with
Shun at his side.
They walked in silence for a few minutes. "I don't think your friend
trusts me," Shun commented, sounding more resigned than
anything. "Probably thinks I'm here to spy on him by order of the
Chinese."
"Don't blame him," Soran told her. "It's not entirely his fault that he's
been taught to think of the Chinese as wrong at best or evil at worst.
It's no different than you being taught that America is a capitalist
dystopia."
She snorted. "Come now, I know that isn't true. Though I do see your
point. Chinese propaganda doesn't paint America in the best light.
But still, at least I don't treat every American as a potential spy."
"I don't see a reason to view your position differently than a Russian
or American with the same," he continued. "The MSS functions in the
same role as the CIA, MI6 and the CT agents of Russia. I don't see
why yours should be demonized while it performs the same
operations as those organizations."
"I hope you're right," she sighed. "But it's good to know that some
people will give me a chance."
"If only more thought like you," Shun chuckled as they reached the
barracks. "Alright, let's go hunt some aliens."
As usual, no one had told them anything when they'd arrived in the
hanger, though the fact that Patricia was in charge likely meant that it
was a fairly high-profile operation. Shun was the only legitimate
"rookie" on this mission, since the rest of the soldiers were veterans
to an extent.
Pete Chandler was one of the few South Americans in XCOM, part
of the Venezuelan Marines. He seemed like a decent guy, from the
few minutes of conversation they'd had. Definitely one of the more
easygoing soldiers he'd encountered.
Karl Lulling was one of the KSK agents that had joined after the
Hamburg attack, and Soran was happy that they'd finally have a
sniper on a mission. A quiet man, but he was clearly skilled at his
job. Patricia had said he'd participated in raiding an alien transport
that had crashed and had acquitted himself well.
He'd actually chatted with Eden Rayna's sister quite a bit, and Eden
seemed more or less like the exact same kind of personality. Very
energetic and friendly. However, unlike her sister she was now
wielding a laser shotgun instead of a rifle. Hopefully her engineering
experience would come in handy, provided that SOER operatives
understood engineering in the traditional sense.
"Do we have any information on the area?" Shun asked, resting her
hands on her knees.
"So what unit are you from?" Karl asked, resting his laser sniper rifle
against his knee. "Military or special forces?"
"Huh, never heard of it," Pete commented. "Well, can't know all of
them. Welcome anyway."
Despite the semi-warm welcomes from them, Soran didn't fail to note
Karl and Patricia eyeing the young Chinese agent after that. Even if
Pete and Eden didn't know or care, a KSK agent and… what was
Patricia anyway? Regardless, both clearly knew what the MSS stood
for, especially when the Chinese flag was emblazoned on Shun's
collar.
But of course, the reason was that Israel was normally regarded as a
'good' country, and thus its soldiers would be assumed to be such as
well. China did not share that same courtesy. He didn't consider it
fair or right, but it was interesting to watch all the same. Hopefully
they'd stop worrying it about it soon.
" Possible, but that doesn't affect your mission parameters," the
Commander answered. "From previous abductions, I would be
surprised if the aliens leave any civilians alive. This is not a rescue
mission and will not be treated as such."
A few seconds went by. "This is Big Sky to Raptor Team. We're
approaching the landing zone in two minutes. Prepare for landing
and deployment."
The lights flashed to a solid red and Patricia stood and walked to the
end in preparation for the landing. Eden took her side and Karl and
Pete stood behind her. Soran and Shun stood behind them. Shun
fiddled with her weapon, a prototype from engineering that seemed
to be some kind of hybrid of a sniper rifle and regular rifle. A Strike
Rifle, it was officially called.
"Deploy!" Patricia ordered and they charged out to reclaim the port.
Canada, Newfoundland
The silence was even more pronounced than usual. Soran wasn't
sure, but he thought that the gentle lapping of the waves hitting the
docks probably had something to do with it. It seemed to draw
attention to the fact that the place was a ghost town.
" Copy that," the voice of Bradford confirmed. "We have satellite
footage over the area. We'll notify you if we see anything."
"We could get trapped in here easily," he warned Patricia, raising his
rifle in anticipation.
Soran looked to the right, where the water and docks were. Crates of
seafood and sailing supplies lined the docks, some haphazardly
tipped over. Several ships were docked as well, nothing large, just
the ones specializing in fishing. Although he did see a barge at the
far end, but it appeared likewise abandoned.
"Soran, Shun, take the left side," Patricia ordered as she moved to
the right side of the warehouse door. While he steadied himself on
the corner of the door, Shun took the opposite corner and raised her
weapon as she watched the side. Patricia had let her autolaser rest
on the ground by the barrel as she'd placed her forearm on the wall
for some reason.
They lifted at exactly the same time and raised their weapons to…
Nothing.
The warehouse was empty, only a few crates and fishing nets
occupied the floor. "As I thought," Patricia muttered, raising her
autolaser. "Advance," she muttered and they went through the
warehouse. As they walked Soran suddenly froze as a thought
occurred to him.
Patricia hadn't given him any signal she was counting down… and
yet they'd acted in perfect harmony. So if she hadn't given him a
signal… how…? And what did that mean? Just like I thought.
Patricia knelt down again and hooked her fingers under the door and
Soran copied her again, trying not to think about what he was doing.
As if by instinct, he and Patricia lifted in perfect harmony, again
revealing nothing.
Soran looked forwards and understood what Karl had meant about a
marketplace. There were around six stands, each with various
seafood he assumed was being sold. Some had some wrinkled steel
walls, and some were just posts that secured the roof. And as he
took a look at the roofs, he understood why they had short walls.
They were clearly used as another means of storage.
" Overseer, they definitely did something to that barge," Karl updated
from the warehouse roof. "Part of the hull is busted open."
"Central, you know if there was anything unusual being brought in?"
Patricia asked.
" Checking the import lists now," Bradford answered tensely. "The
only barge that was supposed to come in today was just a whaling
vessel. Nothing of import."
" Maybe they don't want to waste their forces anymore," Shun
suggested. "If the result is usually a loss, it makes sense not to keep
it up, right."
"The thing is that aliens haven't really used that kind of logic,"
Patricia pointed out. "But perhaps you're right. Still, Soran's idea is
good, we should check the barge."
" There's two stalls that overlook the docks area," Karl pointed out.
"Shun and I can keep an eye out while you move in."
"Good idea," Patricia agreed. "Move there and Soran and I will
regroup with Pete and Eden."
" Copy that," Eden confirmed. "Holding position until you arrive."
Karl lowered himself from the roof and Shun slid down the ladder to
join him. Both of them went over to the right row of stalls and Karl
took the middle one while Shun took the furthest one down.
"You know, I didn't know shark hunting was so popular here," Eden
muttered as they passed a post. Soran only now just noticed that the
corpses of sharks were hanging off of them. In fact, there were
several more at random places around the docks. "In fact, isn't that
illegal?"
"Depends on the part of the world," Soran shrugged. "I know it's
illegal in Japan, but apparently not here."
Everyone went silent and Soran concentrated hard. Yes, there was
definitely something coming from within the barge. Something
tapping on metal and wood, what sounded like a faint clicking.
" Hold! " Patricia snarled and swung her rifle around. "There's
something else here."
"I think you just let them know we're here." Eden murmured as the
sound of chryssalid screeches began filling the air, coming from the
barge.
Patricia turned her autolaser and blasted another shark corpse. "Get
ready!" She snarled. "They're coming!"
Sure enough, six chryssalids charged out of the hole, hopping out of
the jagged metal. Snarling with saliva dripping from their jaws, they
charged the four. "Laser field!" Patricia ordered, firing into the group.
The three of them fired sustained lasers at the group, moving their
weapons in different directions and were rewarded with the screams
of pain from the aliens as they collapsed to the ground, missing
bodies and limbs.
Streaks of red light rained down from Karl and Shun, who put the
surviving chryssalids out of commission. Not a few seconds later,
several more charged out, ignoring their fallen brethren and charged
across the docks to them.
Two were taken out by Karl and Shun, while Soran severed the head
of the final one and it fell to the ground unceremoniously. He eyed
the hole where more were probably going to come out as he
reloaded. "Let's hope it stays like this," Pete muttered as he
reloaded.
Another four jumped out and charged their position. Pete sniped
one, while two were blasted back by Patricia. Two thin beams rained
down on the last one, hitting its leg and head. Soran glanced up to
see Shun had fired the shots. She was definitely an excellent shot.
" Behind you!" Shun yelled and Soran whipped his head back around
to see chryssalids leaping up from behind Karl. Shun desperately
shot at the encroaching aliens, and managed to kill two, but not
before another chryssalid sank its jaws into Karl's throat and ripped it
out. Shun sniped it, but more were already coming towards her.
Shun leapt down, the chryssalids in hot pursuit of her. Soran shot
one that leapt at her and severed the front legs of another, leaving it
screaming in agony.
"They just keep coming!" Pete shouted as more kept coming out.
They were going to get overwhelmed. Even altogether, they couldn't
stand up against an onslaught of at least twelve chryssalids.
Not the time. More were coming. A roar that seemed to shake the
ground echoed throughout the area. Soran watched in disbelief as
the largest chryssalid he'd ever seen stepped out of the barge.
More chryssalids, this time at least fifteen leapt out and converged
under the massive chryssalid. Was this some kind of breeder? Did
chryssalids even need them? More were coming along the sides,
leaping off the warehouse roofs and were promptly shot down as the
squad retreated.
Soran blasted two more in the face, and hissed as two more
chryssalids charged in from the front. Faced with overwhelming
numbers on two fronts, it was inevitable that some would slip through
the cracks.
" Hold ." Patricia growled, though again it didn't seem directed at
them. For whatever reason, all the nearby chryssalids stopped and
stared at Patricia who held their gaze while the rest of them gunned
down the aliens.
"Run!" Patricia ordered. "To the landing zone! Now!" They took off for
the last leg of the route. Patricia occasionally turning around to offer
strafing fire at the chryssalids that were still approaching. The Queen
Chryssalid was also coming, though much slower. As they charged
up the ramp to where the skyranger was waiting, the Queen
Chryssalid roared and began moving much more earnestly.
All of them sat in silence as the skyranger sped back to the Citadel,
all reflecting on what had happened.
After-Action Report
Personnel
Status: Active
Kills: 14
Kills: 9
Status: Deceased
Kills: 6
Status: Deceased
Kills: 10
Status: Active
Kills: 14
Status: Active
Kills: 12
Artifacts Recovered:
None
-Xabiar
Failed Experiments
Failed Experiments
Herman watched as the Commander shut off the video from the
armor cams of the soldiers. Despite the retreat, he wasn't sure if he,
or the Commander, would really count this as a defeat . True, they'd
had to pull out but that had clearly been some kind of chryssalid
breeding ground the aliens had set up. There was no way that would
be taken out conventionally with only six soldiers, even XCOM ones.
Well, maybe if the Commander had a few more of those MECs, the
outcome might be different. Speaking of which, that particular project
needed to be discussed. Though not at the moment.
Herman rested his hands on the holotable. "I assume this is the first
time they've set up a breeding ground like this?" He looked around
questioningly. "At least I assumed that's what it was."
"It couldn't have been anything else," Van Doorn agreed. "Not with
how many were attacking."
"I'm sure they have as many as they need," the Commander noted
with a resigned glance towards the holotable. "They might be able to
just clone another one. But at least we've prevented an outbreak."
"I agree," Herman nodded. "But I'm warning you that the Council
may not see it that way."
Herman could guarantee that sentiment was not going to win any
favors. In this case though, the Commander was right. Razing the
port was the best solution and two soldiers had died to ensure that
the surrounding regions were safe. True, it wasn't an ideal outcome,
but it was far better than the alternative.
"A shame we couldn't have gotten a visual on the nest itself," the
Commander muttered, more of as an afterthought. "It might shed
some more light on how they reproduce naturally."
Well, that was better. "And just how are you going to grow a
chryssalid?" Herman asked. "Why do you even need to in the first
place? Couldn't you just experiment on the egg itself and test ways
to kill it without risking an outbreak?"
"While I respect the autonomy you allow her," Herman finally said,
keeping his voice as respectful as possible. "Wouldn't it be better for
XCOM if she was solely focused on approved projects and her side
activities lessened until the war is over?"
"Except that all her work does relate to the alien threat in some way,"
Bradford pointed out slowly. "She's not going off on random tangents
or unrelated theoretical studies. Even if we can't see it now, her
unofficial work might come in handy later."
Of course it was, and that was the problem. Because Vahlen didn't
stop once she reached a certain point; should something capture her
interest, she would take it as far as she was allowed. His main fear
of Vahlen continuing her chryssalid experiments, was that the next
step was growing chryssalid soldiers to use against the aliens. As
ludicrous as that idea was, Vahlen might be able to make it happen,
and then would probably want to actually use them. There was no
conceivable way that could end well.
Well, he had to hope if something like that ever did get brought up
that everyone would do the sensible thing and kill that idea before it
got any legs. In the meantime, the only thing he could really do is
offer his perspective, as outnumbered as he was here.
"I don't think they were expecting us to blow the port," Bradford
suggested with a shrug. "Should I have them patched through now?"
" Correct, Commander," the Speaker answered, his voice almost the
same except for some synthesizing. It definitely added to the
dramatic presentation. "The Council was not expecting the port to
be… destroyed. They would like an… explanation, to put it lightly."
That was blunter than Herman would have put it, but he couldn't
really fault the Commander in this instance. Whatever councilors
were behind this were acting like children just looking for a fight.
"Speaker, I stand by the Commander's decision in this case," he
said, stepping forward. "An airstrike was militarily the only
responsible course of action. For anyone to say otherwise would
mean they are ignoring the facts, knowingly or otherwise."
"The area was clear of civilians," the Commander added. "The only
casualties were alien."
The Speaker was silent for a few moments. "The Council sees
your… point… Commander. This will be… overlooked… this time.
But the Council cannot guarantee the same should there be a
repeat. There may be consequences in the future."
"Duly noted," the Commander answered coldly. "Though I am
curious, just how many councilors feel this way?"
Herman blinked. That… was a lot more specific than he'd expected.
While he knew the Speaker was supposed to be neutral and answer
questions on both sides, he expected such questions that dealt with
the Council directly to be avoided at best or refused at worst. Very
interesting, and going off how none of them seemed surprised, he
figured that the Speaker's candor wasn't unprecedented.
Herman blinked, the last few seconds still processing through his
mind. Oddly enough, the second most prominent thought in his mind
was that the Commander also seemed to have a knack for the
dramatic, since that ending couldn't have been better timed.
The most prominent being that the Commander knew the name of a
Councilor, and if he knew one…
"Fine," the Commander turned directly to face him. "What you just
saw was more or less what I've had to deal with ever since I've
started. Instead of sitting back and taking it, I decided to find out
exactly who I was dealing with. Thanks to some mutual friends, I
know everyone on the Council, and will be updated of any changes
should they panic and replace everyone." His eyes bored
humorlessly into Herman's, the Commander's tone growing much
harder. " How I acquired these names is none of your concern,
suffice to say that I broke none of your laws to see it accomplished."
Herman pursed his lips. "Then I hope the Council feels the same
way, since I am obligated to report this."
"Go right ahead," the Commander nodded. "Warnup will believe you
at least."
That seemed an odd endorsement, but he'd sort it out later. "I'll leave
you to your work," he finally said. "But after I speak with the Council,
we have some… other matters to discuss."
"I wouldn't have been quite as blunt," Van Doorn stated once
Herman had left. "Antagonizing him is not going to help, regardless
of how justified it is."
"I agree," Bradford nodded. "I doubt this will change his opinion
overmuch. I'm more concerned about you revealing your knowledge
of the councilors names. Was that really a wise move?"
Bradford rested his hands on the holotable. "Let's hope things play
out smoothly then. We also need to decide our plans for Russia soon
too."
"Vahlen, Shen and Zhang are on their way up now," the Commander
informed, setting the tablet down. "There are some things we need
to discuss, Russia being among them."
Van Doorn glancing over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Something
else has come up?"
The Commander's lips twitched. "You could say that, but I don't want
to explain it twice."
"In the meantime, we should decide what we're going to do with our
EXALT friend," Van Doorn said, clasping his hands behind his back.
"I would prefer we use this opportunity to influence the Council and
turn him over, since there's little I believe we can learn from him."
"If we can't get anything, I'll give him to Vahlen as another test
subject," the Commander answered neutrally. "At the rate she's
going through them, it might actually be more beneficial that way."
The doors hissed open and Zhang and Shen walked through, and
both quickly took their place opposite him at the holotable. "Anything
new with our prisoner?" The Commander asked Zhang.
"I'll discuss it with her, should the interrogation fail," Zhang agreed.
"In the meantime, I presume you requested us up here for a reason."
"She's coping," Shen answered with a sigh. "I don't think she minds,
or is bothered by the procedure. But unfortunately, I think some of
the possible side effects are manifesting. Namely, emotional and
personality degradation outside the suit. She also appears to be
suffering some kind of blackouts on occasion, resulting in a low-level
manifestation of retrograde amnesia."
"Can this ever be corrected?" Van Doorn asked quietly, pursing his
lips.
"With Myra, unlikely," Shen admitted. "We're still trying to determine
what areas were affected that strongly by the procedure. I'm not sure
we will ever come up with a foolproof solution."
"At least she isn't in pain," Zhang noted grimly. "And also as self-
aware as ever. There are worse fates."
"Isn't that only because they're disconnected from the suit?" Bradford
asked, shifting as he recalled what he knew about the MECs. "Would
reconnecting restore their higher brain functions?"
"We're still working that out," Shen continued. "But in the meantime,
as much as I hate to suggest this, isolation might be the safest thing,
security-wise."
The Commander frowned, not quite sure what to do. He was against
the idea on principle, as Myra was still a soldier who still retained
some portion of her individuality, and quarantining her simply
because she might pose a security risk didn't sit right with him. The
last thing he wanted to do was ostracize her further, even if she
didn't care.
But Shen did have a point, but the main flaw he saw with that
argument was that the Citadel was an isolated location, the only
people here were XCOM and none would abuse Myra that way. Had
XCOM personnel been mixing with various armies, that would be a
different story, but just among XCOM? No, no reason to limit her
freedom, whatever of it she retained anyway.
"Apologies for the wait," she said hurriedly as she rushed over to
take her place beside the Commander. Her hair was put back up,
officially signaling she was in her Head Scientist mode. "There were
some issues with one of the test subjects."
Vahlen gave a radiant smile. "Quite well! I'd imagine more practical
application could take place within weeks. We're simply ironing out
some minor issues at the moment."
"I'll check on that later," the Commander said, not wanting to begin a
long discussion on Vahlen's work just yet. "In the meantime, we have
a few things to discuss."
"I think we should hear this new development first," Van Doorn
suggested, as he leaned against the wall. "Then move onto Russia."
Zhang frowned, more emotion than usual for him; Shen blinked in
surprise while Bradford and Van Doorn both exchanged a look, the
faces bearing surprise and concern. " How ?" Van Doorn demanded
incredulously. "And when?"
"During our talk, the alien somehow transferred the alien language to
me," the Commander continued. "Simply put, I can understand,
speak and write it fluently."
Shen flinched when he started talking and Van Doorn and Bradford's
eyes widened as they listened. Zhang was visibly interested, far
more so than concerned. He handed the tablet to Shen. "Any of this
look familiar?"
"Yes…" Shen said softly after looking it over. "This shouldn't be
possible."
Van Doorn snorted. "You could say that about half the stuff we
develop," he shook his head in disbelief at the Commander. "Why
would they give you this?"
"A very good question," the Commander answered, pursing his lips
as he exchanged a look with Vahlen. "The alien said it was an
'experiment' or could be considered a test. I doubt that's all though."
"With this we've practically been given the keys to the alien code,"
Zhang muttered, not able to keep the amazement out of his voice. "I
wonder if they realize what they've given us."
"I think the more important question is if you learned anything from
the alien," Van Doorn said, looking down at the holotable. "I don't
suppose he let anything slip."
"Actually, yes, depending on how reliable we consider him," the
Commander answered, resting his hands on the holotable. "It seems
as though this invasion isn't the alien's number one priority, though
I'm skeptical of that. However, they do seem to control at least a
small number of planets, though I couldn't get more details than
that."
"I doubt they expected this to last as long as it has," the Commander
supposed. "We're putting up a fight, which is more than they
expected."
"I think we should be asking how this happened in the first place,"
Shen pointed out, frowning as he looked at the Commander. "I hate
to suggest this, Commander, but are you certain the alien is…
gone?"
"Not for certain," the Commander admitted. "But very sure. The alien
admitted that he might be able to take control if he wanted too, but I
got the impression that it might be more trouble than it's worth.
Regardless, I do want everyone paying attention and making sure I
don't behave… erratically."
There were nods around the room. "The contact most likely
happened psionically," Vahlen added after a few moments. "As such,
I'm going to be reopening dedicated research into that field in the
near future."
"A good plan," the Commander agreed. "Vahlen, Zhang, I'll meet with
you later and we can begin putting the alien language to use."
"Jackson would be useful as well," Bradford reminded him, tapping
on his tablet. "She is a lead on the decryption project after all."
"You think she can be trusted with this?" The Commander asked
seriously.
"Yes," Bradford said without hesitation. "Quite honestly, I'd say she's
earned the right to be here with us."
"I'll consider it," the Commander promised. "But that wraps up the
new development."
"But also one of the most useful," Van Doorn reminded him.
"Although I'm worried there's some catch we're not seeing."
"I'll look into that," Bradford nodded. "I'm sure we can find one from
one of the Council nations."
"On that note, we move into our second matter," the Commander
said, transitioning to the next topic. "Russia."
"And what if the Council should discover this," Shen asked worriedly.
"I doubt they'd take kindly to Russia of all countries gaining a
technological edge."
"Are you certain that we can trust them?" Vahlen asked hesitantly.
"Russia hasn't exactly been a team player, what happens should
they fail to follow through?"
"Then the next question is where the best place to open alliances
are," Van Doorn said, glancing down and observing the map. "We
have to be cautious in choosing where."
"We would also be wise to avoid NATO allied countries," Van Doorn
pointed out. "Many of them specifically joined NATO because they
fear Russian influence. It would be significantly harder for Russia to
work within them, if not impossible."
"So that rules out Poland, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania," the
Commander muttered, appraising the map. "The support for Russia
in Belarus is high enough it might as well be considered a puppet
state, so that's ruled out."
"That is right by China," Vahlen pointed out, frowning. "You think the
Chinese would be fine with us allying with a nation on their border?"
"Perhaps I can have some agents look into the current state," Zhang
suggested. "The anti-Russian sentiment can be bypassed; all the
Russians need are some sympathetic people in the right places to
transfer the tech. It might be worth looking into."
Van Doorn pursed his lips. "XCOM should not become involved in
international issues, period. How long until we decide to violently
remove countries that either openly refuse to cooperate or are simply
not conforming to what we want them to be?"
Ah yes, the line that liked to get thrown around so often. Implying
that one existed for him. The Commander pursed his lips. "We do
what is necessary to preserve humanity, General. If that involves
becoming involved internationally, then so be it. I will not have
XCOM sit by and watch the world burn and not get involved for the
sake of political neutrality ."
"And what then?" Van Doorn demanded. "You want XCOM to be the
new United Nations."
"Van Doorn is right," Shen stated firmly. "Even if you believe it will
happen eventually, XCOM should not be the first to get involved. We
have enough to worry about from the Council without the possibility
of espionage being discovered."
Not really a surprise. "We have to consider what will be best in the
long run," Vahlen finally said, tapping her finger on the holotable, her
expression hard. "And enabling Russia to support us is better for
XCOM and humanity than maintaining our neutrality. Zhang is right.
XCOM will have to pick sides in the future and I don't see it getting
easier from here."
All eyes turned to Bradford, who didn't look pleased with all the
sudden attention. "My position is simple," he finally said. "XCOM
should not become involved in international espionage unless it is
absolutely necessary and in this case, Commander, I don't believe it
is. A nation is not being threatened by alien influence, nor is really in
danger at all. Interfering would only serve to make it easier for us to
maintain a borderline illegal alliance and I don't believe it's worth
breaking our neutrality over that."
A stalemate. The first time it had happened in fact. A vote would be
split three-three, and as the Commander, technically he could force
the decision his way. But he could see their points, and it wasn't
worth alienating Van Doorn, Bradford and Shen over a minuscule
nation like Finland.
Better to wait for an incident where it would be much harder for them
to defend staying neutral. They would come around, eventually, and
then realize that political neutrality was nothing more than an
arbitrary restriction imposed by a Council that feared their growing
influence.
"Very well," he finally said, clasping his hands behind his back.
"We're at a stalemate if this comes to a vote. So, for the moment,
there will be no operations in Finland."
He saw Shen let out a sigh of relief and the expressions of Van
Doorn and Bradford soften as they realized this wasn't going to be
contested any longer. "That being said," he continued, fixing his gaze
on Van Doorn. "We still need another country for Russia. Van Doorn,
Zhang, find me one that will be suitable and make sure we don't
have to interfere to make it viable." He turned to Bradford. "Begin
contacting Armenia and Ukraine. I'll go visit them myself in the near
future."
"Yes, Commander," all of them affirmed and the Commander let out
a sigh, not entirely pleased with how this had gone. "Good.
Dismissed."
The Citadel, Herman's Quarters
Ennor's lip twitched. "Yes, the Council is very aware and alarmed by
the news. I'm pleased you informed us so quickly."
" I don't suppose the Commander told you how he acquire our
names?" Warnup asked, lacing his fingers together, eyebrows
furrowed as he was deep in thought.
" We're trying to ensure that the law is upheld," Warnup responded.
"We're trying to hold a man accountable for his actions. We're trying
to maintain some kind of integrity in the deteriorating war and yet
people still feel the need to jump to the defense of a war criminal."
" She delivered her report, yes," Warnup answered, emphasizing her
. "How much she altered or cut out we'll never know."
" So I'm curious then," Warnup said, leaning back. "Why contact me
now?"
" You're straddling a thin line," Warnup warned. "You will need to
take a stance in the future. Your neutrality, while admirable, will not
last nor should it. You will have to decide what kind of XCOM you
want defending humanity. One that does whatever it takes to win, no
matter the cost; or one unified with integrity, who will win this war
with a united world behind them."
" Your views seem to have changed dramatically from when we first
spoke," Warnup noted calmly, appraising Herman. "That you would
be willing to defend him surprises me."
" That would change should they learn who he is," Warnup pointed
out.
Would it? That was a question the Herman had wondered over the
past few days.
And the fact that he no longer knew was worrying. "I don't know," he
shrugged. "At this point, I'm not sure how many would even care."
" I suppose we have different opinions in this case," Warnup noted,
as he shifted in his seat. "Regardless of our difference, I do thank
you for bringing this to our attention so swiftly. Don't forget what I
said."
The screen went blank, leaving Herman looking at his own reflection.
He groaned and leaned back in his chair. This was exactly what he
despised about politics. No one was completely right, no one was
completely wrong, but both sides refused to cooperate with the other
and instead focused on each other instead of the true threat. And he
was stuck directly in the middle of it.
On the bright side, he could safely say that this job wasn't boring.
He sat there for some time, trying to think of ways to improve this
situation. A knock on the door distracted him. He glanced over and
frowned, he wasn't expecting anyone. At least he didn't think he was
expecting anyone. "Come in," he called out half-heartedly. It was
tempting just to be silent, but did have a job to do.
"No," Herman shook his head, and relaxed a bit. "I just wasn't
expecting you here. And now for that matter."
"Fair enough," the Commander shrugged and took a seat by his bed.
"Your meeting go well?"
He was likely still irritated over the Council's reaction, which was
understandable. "Don't completely blame the Council," Herman
suggested, trying to see what he can salvage. "They're civilians.
Sometimes we forget that not everyone is like us."
The Commander fixed him with an intense stare. "Do you honestly
believe that?"
"For some of them? Yes," Herman shrugged. "Not every politician is
evil, nor is every military general always right."
The Commander pursed his lips. "I may have been born in America,
but I no longer consider myself one of them. I'm a soldier, and that
will never change."
"It's interesting how so many people take pride in where they come
from," the Commander continued. "How much does it really matter in
the context of the human race?"
"It's never been a big deal for me," Herman admitted. "Although I can
certainly see why some would have pride in their country. America,
England, Russia, China, all have made contributions to the world
and I don't see why their citizens shouldn't be proud of that."
"I can see the point," the Commander nodded. "But I wonder if that
concept hasn't outgrown itself. Should we win this war, the world will
be changed forever. Are we going to go back to the old ways and
rivalries we had before this?"
Ah, right. Herman turned his seat to face the Commander. "So, when
were you planning on telling me about the MEC?"
"Namely you amputating the limbs of your pilot," Herman stated. "I
suppose it's fortunate the procedure went well."
"So she was the only one?" Herman asked skeptically. "You didn't
test this on any before her?"
"But that can change," Herman insisted. "I think that you don't want
trouble with the Council any more than I, but like it or not, the burden
is on you to maintain the relationship. You do have much to answer
for and some council nations will always be suspicious. Keep
cooperating and things will change."
Despite what he'd told the Commander, he could help but think the
Commander was right in that things weren't going to improve. But
that just meant he had to work harder to keep relations cordial, since
if he failed, people would die.
The Commander strode down the brightly lit hallway. It had been a
while since he'd been down here, and it did strike him how little this
looked like a place to hold prisoners. If he hadn't known better, all of
them looked like rows of office doors. He wondered if that had been
intentional.
Irrelevant now. Time to see what he could get from their guest.
Zhang was conversing with Ruth and Abby in front of the second
holding cell, all falling silent as he approached. He motioned for them
to continue. "Don't stop on my account," he said, walking up.
He saw Abby purse her lips. "I'd recommend not going that far
though. When the body is pushed to that extreme, I can't guarantee
you won't kill him anyway."
"If you do decide to use torture, I've mapped areas that will be
effective and won't cause permanent damage," Abby added, nodding
towards the tablet. "He's also burned extensively. Be careful if you
decide to use that, otherwise infection will set in and kill him."
"I think he said one word in Chinese," Ruth shrugged. "But otherwise
has been silent."
"The Chinese demographic in Russia is rather small," the
Commander noted. "Interesting that one would be involved in a
Russian EXALT cell."
"I'm curious about that as well," Zhang agreed, glancing towards the
cell. "Sadly, I doubt he'll give up that information easily."
"Then let's get started," the Commander nodded, looking to the two
women. "Both of you remain here for now. We'll call if you're
needed."
Just as last time, there was one table with two chairs facing each
other. The prisoner was sitting on the table, his hands resting on it.
His tan skin and Chinese features were stoic, clearly trying to give
the illusion of normalcy. Though judging from the extensive burns on
his arms and legs, he was likely in agony.
The prisoner just glared back at him, his stark blue eyes filled with
fury. No response. Typical, but not worth worrying about. "I presume
you know how this works," the Commander continued, keeping his
voice level. "I have a few questions to ask, you answer them.
Cooperate and you'll be extradited to Russia for trial. Refuse and
you'll wish you had died."
"Pain will not work on me, UN puppet," Zhang translated. "You have
nothing to threaten me with."
The prisoner glanced sharply over at Zhang, clearly not expecting
his words to be repeated. " Really ?" the Commander smiled. "UN
puppet? I've been called many things, but a UN puppet has never
been one of them."
"You will not hurt me," Zhang translated, the corners of his lips barely
moving up. "Your laws forbid it."
"Fair enough," the Commander nodded. "You are aware of the War
on Terror, yes? The Commander?"
The prisoner gave a brief nod, clear suspicion in his eyes. "是,"
The prisoner let out a sigh, confusion on his face. "I see," he said.
"My turn," the Commander demanded. "How did you know that?"
"Then you know I'll follow through," the Commander reminded him.
"Consider this your last chance."
"Nothing has changed," the prisoner stated coldly, looking him in the
eye. "We both are part of something bigger than ourselves and both
of us are willing to die for it. Torture me if you want, but you will get
nothing."
The Commander stood and appraised the prisoner before him. He'd
brought up quite a few new questions that needed to be answered,
but this was a rare situation where he felt that he didn't have the
upper hand. He could torture him, yes, but he felt it would just be a
waste of time. The prisoner's eyes were filled pain and fear, yes, but
also resolve. He'd seen enough from the War on Terror to know that
he would probably go mad or die before revealing anything.
One would break eventually. And the more prisoners who didn't, the
more refined their techniques would be. The Commander glanced
over at Zhang. "Find out how to break his interrogation training, use
whatever methods are necessary. Do not kill him though. Once you
finish, turn him over to Vahlen."
"You might not be," the Commander answered over his shoulder as
he opened the door. "But can you say the same about your friends?"
He didn't wait for a response and closed the door. Abby and Ruth
snapped to attention as he walked over. "How did it go?" Ruth
asked, clasping her hands behind her back.
He nodded firmly. "Good. Get to work. I'll have Zhang begin working
on the Solaris lead in a few days."
The two women went over to the cell to talk with Zhang and the
Commander turned to walk back to his office. What he found
interesting was why the soldier had reacted so strongly to his
revelation that he had "worked" for the Commander. Did EXALT have
some special interest in him?
No, during the War on Terror, he'd probably interfered with their
plans unknowingly. He supposed it would make sense that they
learned all they could about him. At least they didn't know he was
alive.
He sincerely hoped they hadn't taken his soldiers who'd been sent to
trial and extracted the information from them. If he found they'd done
that, he'd be sure to find the leader of EXALT and hang them from a
cross as retribution.
"If you have a moment, I'd like to discuss something with you," she
answered intently, looking up at him.
"What did you want to ask?" The Commander glanced over at her
after a minute of walking.
"Works well, I'd say," she nodded. "You plan to make more?"
"I doubt you need to look far, Commander," Carmelita shook her
head. "All of us want to do whatever it takes to eradicate the aliens.
Including me, which is why I want to volunteer."
The Commander raised an eyebrow and looked down as her while
she stared straight ahead. "I'm glad you're willing, Carmelita," he
finally said. "But I'm not sure you know what you're asking."
"We have no plans for more MEC soldiers for the short term," the
Commander told her slowly. "We're improving the design and the
procedure. But if you are interested in volunteering for…
experimental procedures, one program will need volunteers in the
near future."
Carmelita stopped, inclined her head towards him and gave his
salute. "Thanks for listening, Commander."
"Not exactly," Soran answered slowly. "It's just… I've been noticing
some odd things about her lately," he paused. "As hard as this is to
believe, I think she's psionic."
Well, well, wasn't that interesting. Not that Patricia was psionic, but
that others were noticing. It meant she was either training on her
own or she was improving unconsciously. "Why do you think so?" He
asked, curious.
"It was mostly on that last mission," Soran explained, resting his
arms on the armrests of the chair. "She and I somehow were
coordinating… with not talking whatsoever. I shrugged it off at the
time, but she made a comment on how she expected the warehouse
to be empty even before opening it. Then she blasted that shark
apart even when we had no idea what was inside it."
He left the Commander alone in his office again. Now that it was
brought up, he did recall Patricia giving an exact number of EXALT
soldiers inside the facility. He didn't know if adrenaline or simple
oversight was the reason he'd not wondered how she knew that, but
she'd been right and he'd promptly forgotten about that.
Which was really odd. A detail like that didn't usually slip his mind.
Well, he knew about it now and would definitely be bringing it up with
her very soon. Tomorrow soon. Because now, he had a visit with
Vahlen. Time to see what she'd been up too.
He didn't pay too much attention to what they were doing, though he
did note there were a few more animals than last time. Something
rubbed against his leg and he looked down to see that cat he'd
encountered the last time. It glanced up at him, meowing and
purring.
He sighed and knelt down to take the cat into his arms and it purred
contentedly as he looked around for Vahlen. Hmm. Not here, so she
was probably in the Experimentation Labs, working on the test
subjects themselves. He walked over to the sealed door and before
he could, the cat jumped out of his arms and dashed away.
The thing in the cell directly to his right could barely be described as
human. Tiny black furs covered every inch of exposed skin and the
Commander couldn't tell if it was male or female. The hairs almost
looked like bristles and appeared to cover everything, even the eyes.
The corners of his lips twitched. Based on the sight of the thing
curled into the corner, shivering, he suspected it wasn't exactly a
pleasant experience.
He took a few steps further and looked into a cell to his left. Inside
was a man spread out on the floor, his limbs contorted in odd angles.
But the thing was that it didn't look… broken. The left leg was curled
like a noodle inward which should have cracked the leg, but instead
seemed kept in one position. It looked like all his bones had been
turned to jelly or some kind of liquid.
The eyes were red from crying, but other than that it didn't look like
she'd been hurt. Failed experiments, he assumed. Though even a
failed experiment was still useful, and he hadn't expected that she'd
get it right the first time. Better now than on him or one of his
soldiers.
Another female test subject was up against the glass, banging on it
trying to get his attention. She didn't appear to have been altered
yet, but he walked over anyway, his face blank and dispassionate. In
contrast, she was practically sobbing, her lips moving soundlessly.
While that was going on, he pressed the button to allow them to
speak. "You want to say something?" He asked calmly, as he kept
going through the records.
"Then just kill me," Casey begged, pressing her palms up to the
glass. "Give me whatever punishment you deserve. Just don't leave
me with her . I don't want to become one of those things ."
"You're right," he told her coldly. "Decent people don't. But don't
mistake my lack of sympathy for delight. Your participation in these
experiments are necessary, but I take no pleasure in it. Were it up to
me, I would carry out a summary execution. But that would be a
waste now, not when your life could be used for a better purpose."
"I wasn't," she muttered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she
sank to the ground.
Casey looked up at him, her face filled with confusion. "The point I
want to make is this," the Commander stated, looking pitilessly down
upon her. "Beg God for forgiveness, Casey. Because you'll find none
here."
He switched off the intercom and stepped back, leaving the broken
woman on the floor. He would never understand people with her
mindset, but he supposed it was better that way. Though this whole
experience was bringing up concerns he'd had about himself.
He felt a hand on his back and turned to see Vahlen behind him.
"Commander?" She asked, eyeing him with concern.
"Ah, Vahlen," he turned to face her fully. "I see you've been busy."
She pursed her lips. "Yes, the first trials are always messy. But
thanks to them I believe I know what to do for the next round of
testing."
She pointed at the fur-covered test subject. "That one was the result
of attempted spider gene splicing. I wouldn't exactly call it a 'failure,'
per-ser. It just worked a little… too well. Not a setback, I was
expecting it to be harder, actually."
Ah, that made sense. "And what of that one?" The Commander
nodded, turning to point out the man with the jelly-like limbs.
"A near success," Vahlen smiled. "I know exactly what went wrong
and how to fix it. I'm confident our first gene mod will be enhanced
vision."
"At least we get something back," the Commander said. "So why is
she alive?" He asked, referring to the female subject.
"Because only a small part of her body was affected by the MELD,"
Vahlen explained, eyeing the woman. "I can use the rest of her body
for other genetic modification. Though this is perhaps the only
exception. I will have to remove her eyes though, so the MELD
doesn't accidentally contaminate another gene mod."
They stopped at the end cell, where a prisoner was secured to the
wall with another scientist inside. His face was contorted in pain and
sweat glistened on his body, dripping onto the slick floor.
"There are two issues we're running into," Vahlen explained, pursing
her lips as she appraised the test subject. "The smaller heart seems
to be in an uncomfortable position, almost painful I'd say from the
data we've gathered. The other being that we're not having much
luck getting the heart to work. Right now it's not doing anything, so
we have no recourse but to see if a traumatic event jumpstarts it."
"Potentially," Vahlen shrugged. "But we've got all that we can out of
him. This is all that remains." She flipped the grip to him in a
surprisingly smooth motion. "You wish to do the honors?"
He took the pistol in his hand and eyed the test subject. "Of course,"
The shot rang out and blood immediately spurted from the wound,
the man screaming in agony as he writhed in his restraints.
"Monitoring begun," the scientist informed. "Nothing so far…"
The man was clearly fading, his thrashing going limper and his
screams becoming quieter. "Hey! I think it's trying to work!" The
scientist exclaimed and thrust the tablet towards Vahlen.
"You're still going to let him die?" The Commander asked, curiously
as he followed Vahlen out of the cell.
"We can't repair the damage to his heart from the wound you dealt
it," Vahlen explained. "But now that the secondary heart is somewhat
working, I should be able to fix my mistakes for the next subject."
"So where do you think you went wrong?" The Commander asked as
they walked to the main gene lab.
"I do my best," she smiled up at him. "Come here, I've also got
something to show you."
"That was the obvious," Vahlen agreed. "But then we'd run into the
same problem, and unlike the aliens, we don't have dozens at our
disposal and might want to use chryssalids multiple times. So
instead, I made it so chryssalids ignore human pheromones and
treat us like plants or any other kind of non-threatening object."
She put her fingers over his own on her shoulder. "I'm glad you think
so. But it would feel… wrong… not to ask first."
She gave him a wide smile. "I'd like nothing more," she suddenly
scowled. "Except maybe figuring out that issue with our boneless
test subject."
He chuckled. "I'll see you later," he said, walking away and she
turned back to her lab equipment.
He smiled to himself as he walked out. Yes, it had been a good idea
to save this visit for last. He had a good feeling about what the future
held now.
Repayment
Repayment
It was good to be in her childhood home, even if was just for a few
hours.
Saudia strode through the gardens she and Hasina had run through
as a child, marveling at how little it had changed. Eight square
patches for growing various flowers and medicinal herbs made up
the area, with stone walkways between each of them. Within the
patches, the plants were allowed to grow freely, not placed into neat
rows like most would expect.
It was the way Mother had always done it, and there would be some
things that would never change. Although had events turned out
differently and she'd become head of the family, that would
admittedly have been one of the first improvements. She understood
Mother wanting things to be wild and free, but there was an
argument to be had for efficiency and practicality.
Hasina would probably keep the tradition, as was her right, and since
it was almost the same, she assumed Hasina already made that
choice. Looking at it, Saudia wondered how Mother would cope once
Father died. They'd been married forty years, and she was
concerned that Mother wouldn't hold up once he was gone. For that
matter, she wondered how Hasina would fare. She and Father were
much closer than Saudia, and while she would mourn his death like
everyone else, it would be less than what Hasina would feel.
In the center of the garden was a fountain with four benches in front
of its sides. Father was sitting peacefully in front of it, while several
guards stood behind him. Ah, that was one thing that was different
about this place. There'd never been guards before.
They knew who she was though, and stepped aside as she
approached. "[Leave us,]" she ordered quietly, glad to revert to her
native tongue. They nodded and walked out of the garden. Once
they were gone, she slowly walked up beside her father.
Well into his mid-sixties, few would guess Evelor Vyandar was any
older than fifty, much less suffering from a genetic disease. Slight
wrinkles only just now forming on his kind face, his eyes still held the
same energy and determination she'd seen so often growing up. His
short wiry black hair was beginning to turn silver, but he was just as
immaculate as ever.
After a few seconds they separated and sat down together on the
bench. "[You're still as beautiful as ever, Director,]" he
complemented. "[And haven't changed a bit since our last talk.]"
She sighed. "[Thank you, Father. But I'm not here as Director for the
moment, I'm here as your daughter,]"
They were silent for a minute. "[I assume Hasina has told you about
my condition?]" He asked, mostly as a confirmation.
"[During the last meeting,]" Saudia confirmed. "[I was preparing for
it… ]" she paused. "[Though I thought there would be more time
before we had to worry about it.]"
The elder Vyandar held up his hand. "[Child, you know as well as I
that will not happen.]"
"[I only have months to live,]" he said calmly. "[I've come to terms
with it. And I'm glad we're getting to visit one last time, since I know
how busy you've been.]"
She closed her eyes, knowing that soon tears would come. "[I'll try to
have it not be the last time.]"
"[I know,]" she whispered. "[But I mostly used what you taught me.]"
"[Oh, you most certainly did,]" he agreed, his lips curling up. "[But
you've forged your own path without relying on me. I didn't pass the
Gauntlet or Rex Fecit did I? That was all you, all without my help or
intervention.]"
"[I suppose I can take some of the credit,]" Saudia admitted, knowing
he wouldn't have it any other way. "[I will do my best to ensure our
final goal is fulfilled.]"
"[They won't be,]" Saudia assured him. "[Once the aliens have
served their purpose, we will dispose of them.]"
He gave her a sad smile. "[Saudia, you are strong, charismatic and
brilliant. Yet no great leader is without one fatal flaw, and you should
be aware of yours.]" He paused. "[You are arrogant, child. And I hope
that your belief in our superiority does not lead to your downfall.]"
She could very easily see how that was true of her, yet there was a
fine line between arrogance and truth. "[But we are superior,
Father,]" she insisted calmly. "[The best of humanity. These aliens
can't comprehend even the bond regular humans share with each
other, let alone those who are EXALT. It might be arrogance, yes, but
one backed up by centuries of work.]"
He shook his head. "[Child, the world has changed much since you
were born. Even more so since I was. But I can assure you that
there has never been an enemy like these aliens. By their very
nature, you cannot assume them to act like us, or even treat them as
inferior.]"
He faced her, his gaze seeming to pierce directly to her soul. "[What
happens will depend on you, Director.]"
She swallowed, the enormous weight of that responsibility again
resting itself on her shoulders. Because that truth was becoming
more and more evident with each passing day. It was growing time
for EXALT to either fulfill its final objective, or die forever. If the aliens
won, there would be no second chance.
He was quiet for a minute before answering. "[Never forget who our
enemy is,]" he said. "[Humans can be used and controlled. Aliens
cannot. Do not turn away help if the opportunity presents itself… ]"
his voice faltered, then finally spoke. "[Even if they are not one of
us.]"
He looked at her with a small smile. "[I didn't say what form that help
would take, did I. The point, Saudia, is that just because something
is generally not done, it doesn't mean it shouldn't be done. You
understand this better than most. Sometimes, tradition is not worth
preserving.]"
That was most certainly true, but she currently didn't see a reason to
break an unspoken rule that had existed within EXALT for centuries.
Still, she inclined her head, grateful he'd offered it anyway. "[Thank
you, Father.]"
He gave her a wry smile. "[I know you will, Saudia. I'll let you get to
your business with Hasina.]"
They both stood and embraced each other. Saudia now finally felt
the tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. She rarely
cried anymore, since it wasn't right or proper for the Director of
EXALT. But she felt now could be an exception. "[Goodbye, Father,]"
she whispered into his shoulder. "[I'll make you proud.]"
They stood that way for a few minutes, father and daughter
embracing for what might be the last time.
Hasina was in the small room that constituted her office. A desktop
computer was at the far left corner, with bookshelves and filing
cabinets opposite it. In the center of the room was a small holotable,
using green lighting as opposed to the traditional blue. Hasina also
kept several native plants along the walls and remaining corners.
The one thing that Saudia could safely say she didn't like about the
room was the green carpet on the floor. She'd never liked it as a
child, and still didn't like it now. She always felt she was going to ruin
it just by stepping on it.
Hasina stood in front of the holotable, wearing the same dress
uniform as the last time they'd spoken. Though Saudia did note that
her gloves were discarded and laid on the table over her computer.
Upon opening the door, Hasina looked up as Saudia approached.
"[I'm glad you spoke,]" she greeted quietly as they gave each other a
quick embrace. "[He really wanted to see you one last time.]"
"[So did I,]" Saudia agreed sadly, looking over her sister. "[How are
you doing?]" She asked, after a few moments of silence.
"[I know that,]" Saudia said. "[I was asking how you were doing?]"
Hasina leaned against the wall. "[I almost wish it would be over
with,]" she admitted after a minute. "[I hate watching him die so
slowly and not being able to do anything.]"
"[Some,]" Saudia shook her head. "[Well, Diguon reported that one
of the bodies was missing, so it's possible he was taken captive.]"
"[Let's hope you are right,]" Hasina muttered, crossing her arms. "[It's
concerning that the Russians were able to shut us down without any
warning.]"
"[It wasn't just the Russians,]" Saudia told her walking beside her
and handing her a sheet of paper. "[Diguon believes they were just
the instrument used against us. This was the memo sent to the
Kremlin that sent them towards our smuggling plant.]"
Hasina took the paper and bit her lip as she looked it over. "[An
anonymous source,] she noted. "[This is terrible regardless. Anyone
even slightly intelligent will note the large sums transferred from
Solaris Industries.]"
Hasina pursed her lips. "[I thought XCOM didn't have this capability.
Strictly military only.]"
"[In response to us, no doubt,]" Hasina agreed with a nod, setting the
paper on the table.
Saudia hesitated. "[Perhaps, perhaps not. It takes time to set up a
useful intelligence force, and the fluidity of which it was executed
suggests it was at least weeks in the planning. Not to mention
XCOM has had some kind of Intelligence force for a while, going off
Germany.]"
"[Still, I am surprised the Russians were able to take out our base so
quickly,]" Hasina commented. "[They must have used overwhelming
force.]"
Saudia cocked her head. "[I don't believe the Russians actually
carried out the attack, they just showed up afterward. Diguon
believes the same thing. You haven't seen the updated report, I
assume?]"
Hasina shook her head. "[No, there's been some local disputes that
have taken my attention this morning.]"
Hasina took the file and her eyes widened as she flipped through the
photos and autopsy reports. "[The Russians tend to be brutal with
their foes,]" Saudia said as Hasina read. "[But rarely do they slice
them into pieces or let them burn to a slow death.]"
That it did, which was why Saudia had been skeptical when Diguon
had insisted it was XCOM who was behind it. The tactics seemed…
off. Not what she'd expect from a government controlled military, let
alone one under the control of the United Nations. This whole attack
was a show of strength at the very least, demonstrated in the most
basic and violent way possible.
"[And our main way of getting weapons into Asia,]" Hasina reminded
her.
Hasina's lips twitched. "[At the very least, we probably know where
they're going to go next.]"
"[I highly doubt we'll run into that issue,]" Saudia chuckled. "[I'll
remove him from all operations if that's the case.]"
A smile grew on Hasina's face. "[I can just imagine the call now,]"
she smirked, as she imitated his voice. "[Hello Director. You might be
interested to know that XCOM has an Intelligence division and may
use it against you. They also have a base of operations and they are
fans of the Commander. Also they hate the aliens. See you next
year.]"
Saudia laughed, though mostly because it was the first time in a long
time Hasina had attempted to crack a joke. "[That will not happen.]"
"[But if it does I'll just say I told you so,]" Hasina chuckled. Her face
grew serious a few seconds later. "[I didn't ask you, how are things at
the Bastion?]"
"[As long as they have the chips in their head, they have no
escape,]" Saudia dismissed. "[Subject Four is the most powerful, but
she would not be able to escape, even with her substantial abilities.]"
"[It was Ethan's idea, I think,]" Saudia answered. "[He has a thing for
mythology. Short version was that the three Furies were demons
essentially, destructive beasts that only answered to Hades.]"
[Kind throws off the ring,]" Hasina commented. "[Calling them the
"Furies and Gorgon" doesn't exactly have the same ring.]"
"[As it should be,]" Hasina agreed. "[So once they've served their
purpose, will you turn them over to the aliens?]"
"[It should,]" Saudia agreed with a nod. "[But it's a necessary step. I'll
be heading to the Eridan Headquarters to meet the geneticist
Matthew recommended.]"
"[Tygan,]" Hasina recalled. "[I'd normally have an issue with that, but
if it helps us end this alliance earlier, the better.]"
"[That isn't like you,]" Hasina frowned. "[Insinuations like that I'd
expect from Zara.]"
A rush of cold air blasted her the moment she stepped over the
threshold. Not a surprise since most scientists preferred working in
chilled environments. Nearly thirty men and women in lab attire were
throughout the room, all conduct various tasks with vials, monitors
and other kinds of lab equipment.
The white walls and tile added a bright whiteness to the room,
unconsciously emphasizing the immaculate state of the room, even
on the tables where alien equipment was being meticulously
disassembled.
Darian nodded towards the center of the room. "Yes. Right there."
"Good," she nodded. "Time to say hello." With Darian at her side,
she strode forward, taking care not to disturb the scientists in her
path.
She waved a hand dismissively. "No need, doctor. That is why you're
here, after all," she extended a hand. "Saudia Vyandar, Director of
EXALT."
He took her hand with a firm grip. "A pleasure to meet you, Director."
"I'm pleased you've taken an interest," Saudia continued. "We can
use as many people with your expertise as possible."
"I admit, I was skeptical at first," Tygan admitted. "But I was quickly
proven wrong, and I would be remiss if I didn't do everything
possible to defeat these… aliens. " His tone was borderline…
annoyed with the last word. Almost as if an invasion was a mere
inconvenience for him.
"Yes, yes, of course," Tygan assured her. "In fact, I've already began
my own work on this… substance… the aliens apparently use.
Highly intriguing, if I do say so myself."
"Of course, Director," Tygan agreed in his oddly calm voice. "I will
personally ensure that tangible results are delivered as soon as
possible."
That was good enough for her, and Darian would be sure to make it
happen. "I look forward to seeing your work," she said, inclining her
head. "I'll let you return to work now."
"Thank you, Director," Tygan responded as he turned back to his
microscope. "You will not be disappointed.
She turned around and walked out of the labs, Darian close behind
her. With that order of business out of the way, it was time to return
to the Bastion. Well, after discussing a few more things with Darian,
namely Brazil.
"Good point," she agreed wearily. Neither of them talked for a few
minutes.
"Your family visit go well?" Ethan finally asked, his voice deliberately
neutral. She'd wondered how long it would take before he brought
that up. Despite wanting to, and making some attempts, he hadn't
exactly… assimilated… with the Vyandar family at large. Much as
she'd tried to smooth things over, not many were receptive to
allowing an American into their family.
Saudia shrugged into his chest. "More or less. I think she's still
hoping Darian manages to create a cure. But deep down she knows
it's not possible. I'm glad she's there though, makes it easier for both
of them."
"Is it really that similar?" Saudia asked skeptically, opening her eyes.
"Maybe not," Ethan answered. "But it did get our attention, which is
what I suspect was their goal all along."
"At least we can likely predict where their next target is," Saudia
muttered, closing her eyes again. "Matthew is going to be thrilled."
"In all likelihood he will be," Ethan commented ruefully. "At the very
least he'll be more amused than concerned."
She smiled at the thought. "Good. A break from routine never hurts."
"Yep, I think it's time to start some more physical training with him,"
Ethan suggested, pulling her closer. "It'll give him an edge when he's
sent to the Gauntlet."
"Fair enough," Ethan conceded. "I guess I'm just concerned. The
world isn't exactly stable right now. I'd feel better knowing he could
defend himself competently at least."
Saudia pursed her lips. "Yes, so do I. But it's hard enough on him
being the only child here, let alone that both of us are often busy. I
don't want to put more stress on him than he already has."
She smiled and they stayed that way for a few minutes. "I really want
to go to sleep," Saudia murmured. "Don't let me."
"You could just go to bed a few hours early," Ethan suggested wryly.
"No one would be hurt from that."
She groaned, because that sadly was very tempting at the moment.
"Don't give any more ideas."
He gave a light laugh and leaned over to kiss the side of her head.
"Wouldn't dream of it-" A shrill beep interrupted whatever he was
going to say, coming from the wristband on his left arm. Saudia
reluctantly pushed herself off him to give him space.
She couldn't hear what he was being told, but since his expression
went from annoyed to concerned within seconds, it was enough to
fully wake her up. "Understood," Ethan stated curtly, the tenseness
in his voice concerning her. "I'll inform the Director at once." He
clicked off his earpiece and focused immediately on her.
"It seems our alien friends have decided to pay us a visit," Ethan
stated coldly, though his tone was clearly not directed at her. "A UFO
is set to land within minutes."
Her eyes widened as she pulled on her boots. "I didn't schedule this,
before you ask."
"Let's go," she said, striding towards the exit. Ethan nodded and fell
into step beside her. Along the way to the hangar, Saudia saw
several more EXALT soldiers moving around briskly as they
prepared to defend the Bastion should things go horribly wrong. To
date, this was actually the first time the security protocols were
actually put into practice.
The Bastion had never been threatened before, but there was a first
time for everything.
But as it stood now, Saudia realized just how understaffed they were.
Once this was over, she was going to make sure they were fully
staffed for the remainder of this war. "The UFO has touched down,"
Ethan informed her as they approached the hangar entrance. "No
sign of anything exiting."
They reached the hangar door where five other EXALT soldiers in
battle armor stood waiting. All snapped to attention as she
approached. "Open the hangar door," she ordered. "That's what
they're waiting for."
Ethan gave the order as she turned to the soldiers. "Do not act
unless I give the order or they attack first," she ordered, clasping her
hands behind her back. "Do not be provoked, no matter how difficult
it becomes. Understood."
"Fall in line," she snapped as she moved to open the door. With
three soldiers on her left and three on her right, she opened the door
and strode into the near-empty hangar. The massive door squealed
open and Saudia was hit by a chilling wind that sapped all her body
heat out.
Directly in front of the hangar was the UFO, what appeared to be the
exact same one that had landed the first time. Interesting that even
through the snow whipping around, she could still feel the faint pulse
it emitted. The shimmering multi-colored shield around the opening
vanished and out stepped the Speaker, who was flanked by four of
the mutons and two more doppelgangers pushing a pod of some
kind.
Her pale skin was flawless and her raven hair fell just past her
shoulders when the wind settled. The aliens still hadn't seemed to
get the face right thought, because despite her beauty… there was
something off about it. It was completely lacking emotion or empathy
or any sort, almost as though it was nothing more than a mask. The
spectacles she wore didn't exactly change that image either.
They finally stopped about halfway from the hangar and waited for
the alien entourage to arrive. The Speaker was wearing a smile that
she assumed was supposed to be friendly, but instead struck her
as… eerie. It didn't look right at all . "Director," he greeted cordially,
in his familiar oily voice. "I'm pleased to be welcomed so quickly."
"Director," the alien tsked, shaking his head. "I get the impression
that our arrival is inconvenient for you, and while I understand the
apprehension, I can assure you that we mean you no harm."
"We have no fear of that," Saudia lied, fully aware of the very armed
soldiers beside her. "I did not mean for my words to sound
accusatory."
"Is that right?" The alien smiled knowingly, which actually appeared
to be genuine. "You have quite a heavily armored escort for a
woman who has no fear."
"I might ask you the same," she responded, nodding towards the
hulking mutons wielding plasma rifles.
"A good point," the alien chucked, once more sounding forced.
"Might we move somewhere not quite as windy?" He asked,
spreading his hand out towards the hangar. "I promise we will not
stay long."
Saudia stepped to the side, allowing him a clear path to the hangar.
"After you." The alien nodded and stepped forward and the
entourage moved to follow. Were this a normal meeting, Saudia
might have allowed that. But as it stood now, the aliens needed a
reminder that they wouldn't be pushed around.
She raised a fist and in unison, the EXALT soldiers raised their rifles
at the encroaching mutons and doppelgangers. The aliens froze and
the Speaker looked at her in surprise. "Your escort will remain
outside," she stated, keeping her tone reasonable. "They will not be
necessary for you to conduct whatever business is necessary."
The Speaker looked torn between surprise and annoyance. "I do not
believe that is your call to make, Director ."
The Speaker's lips twitched. "You are clever, Director, and raise a…
fair point." Saudia could see him processing how he wanted to
handle this. After a few seconds, he visibly relaxed and gave her a
toothless smile. "Very well, I will comply. Though I will require him to
accompany me." He pointed toward the doppelganger behind the
hovering pod.
"May I ask why?" Saudia demanded.
The alien opened his mouth, then paused. "Let us discuss this
further inside, Director." Without waiting for her, he walked towards
the hangar and she followed him. Once they were inside, the alien
stopped and stood in place.
"I will be brief, Director," the Speaker stated, his tone much less
cordial now. "We have provided you with an ample amount and will
continue to do so," he paused. "Now… while we appreciate you help
by means of intelligence and knowledge of the world as it is, we
require some more… tangible compensation."
The alien gave her a chilling, reptilian smile. "You are bold, Director,
but you are not naïve. Think very hard about what could interest us."
It was pretty clear. "You would like one of our psionic subjects."
" Then make more," the alien hissed, his mask of civility dropping for
a second as he spun sharply to face her. "Let me be completely
clear, Director. This is not a request."
A frosty silence fell between them. At the moment, Saudia did feel
like she could successfully prevent the aliens from taking one of their
psionics. However, the way this meeting had gone so far, she had a
feeling that the aliens would at the minimum break off their alliance
or retaliate with more force.
As much as she hated it, it would be wiser to comply with the aliens
demands at the moment. They could afford to lose one subject, and
quite honestly, the Speaker did have a point. They could replicate
the catalyst experiment. And it would very likely work on a few more
subjects. Logistics-wise, it would be a nightmare, but if need be, it
was possible.
"Very well," Saudia finally said. "We can afford to spare one subject.
I hope your superiors will find this satisfactory."
"I can assure you, they will." The Speaker assured her, regaining his
familiar calm.
Saudia turned on her heel. "Come. I will escort you to the subject
myself, we will allow your subordinate to help load him into your
pod."
"That will suffice," the Speaker agreed. "Please, lead the way."
She was surprisingly calm, all things considered. The past few…
what was it? Days? Weeks? It didn't matter. All had been focused on
one goal: escape. She could now focus the information from the
various minds she sensed to pick out specific words.
It was still information overload, and she had to struggle to pick out
clear sentences, but what she had managed to learn from her two
guards had been instrumental. She'd tried to mentally contact Fatima
after that… experiment. But had been unable to find her mind, or for
that matter, any of the others.
She was torn between trying to free them as well, or just escaping on
her own. The thing was, she had no idea where they were being kept
and only had the vaguest direction of where to go to escape, thanks
to a brief image of a map she'd seen from one of the guards. Staying
would just increase the chance of her being caught.
Influencing might have worked better, but she was nowhere skilled
enough to try that for an extended period of time and have it
succeed. Now, as far as she could tell, there was only one reliable
way out of this base: the supply planes, which came every Thursday.
Those would be her escape.
She was either going to leave today or die. She'd been tempted to
wait another week and hone her abilities more, but given how she'd
picked up enough words recently describing how one of the psionic
subjects had been "removed," she couldn't risk staying longer and
then being "removed" as well.
She closed her fists and tapped into the power that was just waiting
inside her. It was almost becoming second nature now. Her vision
became a tinged purple and with waves of energy running up and
down her arms, she stood, internally screaming as the psionic power
tore open her skin again.
The first move was to disable the hidden cameras. Fortunately, she
knew where they were, or at least the general area. When she had
briefly taken control, she noticed a panel that displayed her from
several different angles. That had been enough to pinpoint the
general area of the cameras.
She raised her right hand, the swirling purple energy forming into a
ball and directed it at the right corner. It hit the area and dispersed a
sizzling shockwave a couple feet in diameter. Hopefully that had
taken it out. Wasting no time, she repeated the attack on the
opposite corner and finally, the ceiling area over her bed.
Task one done. Now to make sure it had succeeded. The two
soldier's minds closest to her were practically blazing, as a side
effect of using her power was that it amplified her ability to sense
and control minds.
Everything was clearer in this state. She heard full sentences and
thoughts, emotions and images washed over her and she wished
she could retain this level of clarity when not high on power. Without
bothering to influence, she targeted the closed guard and took full
control.
She closed her eyes, otherwise his vision would superimpose itself
over her own, which would only cause distraction. She
experimented, moving her head side to side. It was strange, taking
control like this. She felt nothing from the man, or sense any
thoughts. She wasn't sure if her control stopped them, or she simply
couldn't hear anymore.
She'd controlled both guards, and knew the arsenal they both
carried, so she had a plan of how to attack. The rifles they both held
would be effective, but would be loud and she needed stealth at the
moment. Thus the knives strapped to their waists were the best way.
Time to act. She forced the man to raise his hand to the left, pointing
at something. "You see that?"
Annette had the man draw his knife and bury the blade deep in the
man's throat. As the other guard started ahead in shock, blood
leaking out the corner of his mouth, Annette had her controlled guard
slam him to the ground, using the knife. Blood was now leaking from
the wound, covering the hand that held the knife.
He was likely dead. But Annette wasn't feeling like taking chances
today. She pulled the knife from the throat with an awful sucking
sound and buried it in the guard's eye, then twisted. The body barely
moved. Good, he was dead. She had the controlled guard pull the
knife away and stand. His card should be….there.
With the access card, she had him use it to open the door which slid
open. Elation burst through her. Stay . She ordered the guard, as
she briefly relinquished control. The commander would work for a
few minutes and she quickly dashed out of her cell and into the
hallway. A smile grew on her face.
It wasn't freedom, not yet. But she was closer than she'd been in
months.
The guard was standing over his friend, a vacant expression on his
face and his hands hanging limply at his side, blood dripping from
the one holding the knife. She appraised him, considering how best
to remove him. In the end, there was only one way that seemed
fitting.
" Follow my motions," she ordered, her voice amplified as the power
coursed through her, giving her words the necessary persuasion to
affect his frozen mind. He simply looked at her, waiting. Looking into
his dead eyes, she raised her right hand and he mimicked her
exactly.
She moved her hand up by her throat, adjusting slightly until he
placed the knife he was holding on his own neck. One clean motion,
that's all it would take. She ran her own hand slowly and firmly
across her neck and he repeated, though only getting halfway before
collapsing to the ground, clutching his throat.
But the damage had been done, and as his blood poured onto the
ground, she knew he would bleed out within minutes. He gurgled,
probably trying to shout or scream as he thrashed, terror in his eyes.
She'd used to hate the sight of blood, now it barely affected her at
all.
She kneeled down and took the knife from the blood-slicked floor,
and wiped the blood off the blade using a rag on the first dead guard.
Right, now here came the hard part. The chip that shocked her had
to be removed else they would just use it to debilitate her once they
discovered her escape.
She'd run through her mind several times what she was going to do
here. The chip would probably be able to be felt at a certain point,
but she couldn't waste time trying to locate it. Better to… weaken the
skin around her neck, acidify it slightly and have it melt and harden in
a way, then form around the chip.
She'd tried it on her arm, and using the psionic mist that occasionally
burst from her skin would have that effect. She gathered it up and
quickly placed her palm on her neck, and fell to the floor as the mist
ate away at her skin. It took every ounce of self-control not to
scream, but screaming would draw attention.
A seconds later when the pain had receded, she began poking the
skin around her neck, whimpering as each movement brought a new
version of agony. There ! It had to be that, a tiny metallic rectangle.
Focusing on that, she brought the knife over the spot on her neck
and placed the tip there and made a small incision.
The cool blade was almost a relief and she added a horizontal slash
to make getting the chip out easier. That done, she dug in with her
fingers to get a bloody and slippery hold on the chip.
She was back to normal now, the pain had caused her to lose control
of the power, and now she felt exhausted. But she had to go on,
there was no choice, and someone had probably heard that scream.
She tried recalling the map she'd seen from the now-deceased
guard.
Grabbing the knife, she began quietly walking down the hallway.
Struggling to keep moving and simultaneously remain conscious of
EXALT guards heading her way. Fortunately, there was no one
immediately close to her, and at the end of the hallway was an
elevator. She scowled, knowing that would be her death should
anyone be waiting at the top.
But she had no choice and stumbled into the elevator and managed
to press the first floor button. Bleeding, exhausted and almost
unconscious, she leaned against the walls of the elevator, trying to
rest some. She was aware of a bunch of minds above her, but none
seemed near to her destination.
A map!
She nodded and began moving to the left when she saw something
that had completely slipped her mind. A security camera.
She'd been so focused on the ones in her cell that she hadn't even
thought of the ones throughout the rest of this base. These ones
appeared to be automated, sweeping back and forth, so she could
time it so it wouldn't see her. But it was going to complicate things if
she ran into soldiers.
She waited a few seconds and dashed directly under the camera,
waited for it to move to scan the area she'd been and sprinted as
fast as her screaming lungs would allow to the following hallway. The
good news was that the hangar wasn't far….
She froze as she felt two people approaching, better yet, heard their
voices. She was too exhausted to focus on what they were saying,
and instead gathered all of her remaining energy into one, final,
command that she prayed would penetrate their minds.
She stepped out in front of two EXALT guards, a man and a woman,
who both immediately raised their rifles, eyes widening. "Who-"
" Stop!" She commanded, raising her hand, the briefest flicker of
psionic energy gathering. She pressed that word against their minds
as hard as she could, through their rush of words, images and
feelings.
" Stop!" She repeated as she stumbled closer, their bodies frozen
and shaking as their minds struggled against her will. Once she was
almost inches away she thrust the knife in her hand into the throat of
the woman, pulled it out and plunged it into the throat of the man.
After keeping them in place a second longer, she waited until she
was behind them and released them.
Both soldiers fell to the ground with loud thuds, and she glanced
back in exhaustion, noting curiously that their blood faded into the
carpet pretty well. She had to get out of here now. The hangar was
just over there. Luckily it had a very helpful sign saying Hangar over
it.
She reached it, resting her weight on the handle, and after taking a
few seconds to recover, pushed it open and was greeted with what
was arguably the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen.
The hangar was extremely cold, judging from how bundled the men
and woman unloading the cargo plane were, but she barely noticed.
Rationally, that was a bad sign, but right now she didn't especially
care that much, since it actually seemed a relief for the pain.
She watched them for a minute. Right. It looked like they were
loading up the crates on the far left of the plane and placing the
unloaded crates on the left. Excellent, since she was on the right. All
she had to do was get into one of those crates and hope they didn't
check them inside.
Reinvigorated from the cold, she quickly moved over to the crate
area, keeping behind the empty crates and equipment that littered
the hangar. At least these crates weren't wooden, nailed boxes. No,
these were sealed, some even not requiring a lock at all. She
spotted one that would probably fit her and quickly opened it, and
looked around to make sure no one was looking and practically fell
inside.
To make sure she didn't suffocate, she lodged a small piece of…
what was she on, metal? She lodged it between the cover and crate
to allow for some air. Hopefully the people loading wouldn't notice.
For what seemed like ages, she waited until she finally felt the
package begin moving. The two workers were chatting about
something, but she was almost unconscious and couldn't focus on
what they were saying.
Annette felt the crate finally settle and heard the footsteps fade and a
few minutes later, the beautiful sounds of an engine fired up and she
felt the plane begin moving. She smiled to herself as she finally fell
into unconsciousness.
Creed violently threw her to the ground as she once again failed to
predict his moves. Everything in his body language indicated two left
steps and then a sharp right attack. But no, he'd just dashed in front
of her, lifted her off a few inches and threw her to the ground. Times
like this she realized just how much stronger than her he actually
was.
She could sympathize, he'd put up with her tampering with his mind,
even if they weren't making as much progress as she'd like.
A few more tests with Creed and she'd gotten the basic emotional
manipulation down, which essentially boiled down to two methods.
Brute force, by which she'd force whatever emotion she wanted on
the person in question, which could lead to some rather unexpected
outbursts.
The thing she'd found with brute-forcing it was that it was only
temporary, and Creed had known he was being manipulated
afterwards, so it's effects would depend on how successful she was,
though Creed was an excellent person to test on, since he'd been
able to resist her attempts several times, usually at her insistence.
The second method was far harder and more subtle, directly using
memories and thought of the person to achieve the desired result.
That she still hadn't been able to replicate, aside from that first time
she'd found some accidentally and unintentionally used them. What
she needed to work on was actually reading the mind of a person,
and fully understanding it.
She could listen to the voices around her, but making sense of it was
like being stuck in traffic during rush hour, trying to find one very
specific car. It was staggering how many thoughts were formed,
processed and vanished within the span of seconds, creating mental
white-noise that hid the actual coherent thoughts.
She was tired of picking out odd images, words and feelings. But it
was proving to be frustrating. She hadn't even begun to think about
how to access memories, but that would come, it had too. It was
possible to at least view them, but Patricia didn't know how to access
them directly.
So, while taking a break, Creed had suggested a way to improve her
concentration and reaction at the same time. She would use her
psionics to predict his attacks, and then react accordingly.
It was not.
She'd never thought how difficult it was to both move and use her
abilities at the same time. Her constant movement made it difficult to
concentrate, especially while she was also watching Creed for visual
cues as to when he'd attack. But when she'd actually try and
concentrate, she'd unconsciously stop, giving Creed the opportunity
to charge in and knock her to the ground.
"You should have gone left," she groaned as she pushed herself up,
glaring at him. His lips twitched.
"I did that to make a point," Creed noted dryly. "Stop watching my
motions. Quit paying attention to my body language. Whatever you
see is what I want you to see. Try to predict my movements on what
your eyes can see and I'll beat you every time,"he said as he tapped
the side ofhead sarcastically. "Remember this? Stop letting me beat
you up and use that intelligent mind of yours. This is rather
disappointing, to be honest."
She gritted her teeth, not quite sure how to take that. "That was
either a nice insult or a very backhanded compliment," she said,
rolling her shoulders. "Which is it?"
At the beginning, she would have likely tried something like that. But
now she was just tired, both of the training and Creed's smug jests.
She took a firm stance and raised her gauntleted fists, watching the
relaxed SEAL.
His amused look turned to surprised and he raised his fists and took
a stance as he prepared to defend against her. She threw a punch
with her left fist and at the same time focused her thoughts into a
pinpoint and focused directly on Creed.
No, predicted .
She witnessed his plot an attack from different angles, all happening
within milliseconds before he seemed to decide on one. Other
flashes of other attacks still appeared, but she figured that the
clearest one was likely what he was going to do.
With speed that beliedhis size, Creed charged her, left, right, left, just
as she'd seen. Next would follow two alternate punches and then a
surprise kick to unbalance her. She knew if those failed, he'd follow
up with two quick punches to her chest. Should those succeed, he'd
strike her unbalanced side.
It would be better to let him succeed, though the issue then became
how to fake it or worse, let him hit her and negate the damage. She
could block the punches, her appearing to be unbalanced was what
was important.
Her flank exposed, she knew exactly where Creed would attack, and
as he moved to punch her to the ground, she quickly pivoted to the
side, letting him stumble forward and then thrust her palm toward his
chest. A surge of power abruptly rushed through her and a faint
purple shockwave burst from her palm outward as it connected with
his chest.
Creed was thrown back almost five feet, rolling over until he came to
a stop at the edge of the training mat.
The world came rushing back to her as she realized what she'd
done. "Damn it!" she swore frantically as she rushed over to Creed's
motionless body. She quickly knelt down and rolled him over to his
back.
"Hey! Get up!" She told him, slapping his lightly on the cheek.
Nothing. Damn, he seemed fine and was breathing normally. She
placed her fingers on his neck and his pulse was strong, nor did any
of his bones seem broken or damaged, minus bruising of course.
No, it seemed she'd knocked him unconscious.
She'd worry about how she'd done that later. Right now, she might
as well test the limits of her abilities, or at least experiment with
them. She placed her palm on his forehead and closed her eyes.
The white noise that normally accompanied his mind was faded,
almost non-existent.
Wake up.
He gasped and jerked up, eyes wide and panting. She immediately
put her arm around his shoulder to support him. "Hey, hey, it's fine.
Calm down."
He gave a brief nod and a few seconds later, the panicked look in his
eyes faded and he shook his head. "That… wow… uh, how did you
do that?"
"I don't know," she admitted, sitting on the ground beside him to get
more comfortable. "It was… almost instinct. I just reacted and knew
exactly what to do."
The way he said it, she wasn't sure if he meant it in a good way or
not. She didn't really know either. Anger had always been her
ultimate fallback, what she drew upon when nothing else worked.
And there was a lot to draw upon. But… she wasn't sure she wanted
that as her primary source of power.
"I need to get better at managing it," she admitted. "I don't want to
rely on that."
"I agree," Creed nodded, wincing. "But you don't go to it first, which
is a good sign. Hopefully you know a better idea of what to do now."
"I know," he chuckled. "I'd have figured you'd have at least warned
me if you could do that."
"I think that's enough for today," Patricia said, going to get a drink
from her water bottle. "You're sufficiently tired."
"Both, I guess," she shrugged and took another sip. "You feel
exhausted, and after our… what, four-hour workout, I'd think it
perfectly reasonable."
Creed appraised her, something in his eyes she couldn't quite place.
"So, I'm curious. How much can you… read a person now, for lack of
a better word?"
She took a seat on the bench and he took one right beside her. "I
can get a pretty good read on emotions now," she answered
seriously, since she felt he deserved to know. "Like I can tell if you're
angry, happy or sad just from being around you. If I concentrate
specifically on you, I'll be able to get a more accurate reading,
naturally."
"Not your problem," he waved his hand. "Was stupid not to bring
more of my own."
"So, when you sense someone, can you tell who it is?" Creed
continued, resting his hands on his legs. "Or is it just… blank?"
Patricia leaned back. "I can . It's still there, at the back of my mind.
I'm too tired and am used to it by now that it doesn't really bother me
anymore, but if I listen, they're all there. The problem is that so much
of it is jumbled, congealed and loud that I can't get anything useful
out of it," she leaned her head back and closed her eyes,
deliberately ignoring the voices around her.
"If I do manage to pinpoint a mind, I run into the same problem," she
continued. "You have thousands of tiny, half-formed thoughts that
are created and dismissed within milliseconds without you ever
realizing it. It creates something like white noise, making it extremely
difficult to find the coherent thoughts and images. That's why I can't
tell exactly what you're thinking now."
"Ah, that makes sense," he said, his features relaxing and morphed
into contemplation. "You mind if I ask a question?"
She opened her eyes and looked at him curiously. "That sounds
ominous, but sure."
"I don't know," she finally said after a minute of silence. Staring
straight ahead, she tried voicing the complicated and conflicting
emotions she had. "I've not really thought about it that way, to be
honest. I've just been so focused on mastering these abilities that
I've never really focused on the….well, consequences," she sighed.
"This can be a potent weapon. If I can predict the aliens, or for that
matter, anyone else who tried to harm me or my soldiers, then yes, I
want to know how to read minds. The thing is, I'm not sure that I can
switch this off once I get better. I can now sense people's emotions
instinctively without even trying. I'm not sure I want to extend that to
reading minds.
She shrugged again. "Sorry, that probably wasn't what you wanted to
hear."
"I disagree," Creed stated flatly, shaking his head emphatically. "Had
you not said so, I would have guessed you'd put quite a bit of
thought into it. I want just curious as to how you viewed this power."
"You don't need to hide it," Patricia pointed out. "I know that this is
dangerous, that it can be abused. But I don't know how I can really
prevent that."
Creed looked ahead for a moment. "I'd say, keep the mindset you
have now. Your powers are a tool, and I would suggest you use them
as such. When you see a situation that calls for your powers, use
them. Don't hold back."
They were both silent for a while. "I don't think I can really keep this
a secret much longer," she admitted, an inevitability she'd realized
over the previous days. "Someone is going to get suspicious, if they
aren't al-" she inhaled sharply as she sensed a person with an icy
calmness and determination getting closer.
There was only one who she'd ever sensed who was even remotely
like that: The Commander.
"Trust me," she insisted. "There isn't anyone who even remotely
feels like him."
"I think so," she nodded as she sensed him getting closer. "I guess
just act natural."
A minute later, the door hissed open and the Commander walked
through, and after spotting them, made his way over to them. Both of
them snapped into a salute as he approached, his expression
unreadable.
The only thing Patricia could really sense was curiosity, but nothing
more. Mostly because she was trying not to read the Commander as
much as possible. There were some things that she shouldn't do,
and reading his emotions, deliberate or not, was probably a very bad
idea.
Though his face betrayed nothing, she could feel Creed's primary
emotion turn to concern. Which she had to echo, but she did find it
endearing that he cared that much. But there was probably nothing
to worry about. The Commander wasn't someone to be feared.
Usually.
Only if you were his friend. He clearly had very little empathy for his
enemies.
His hands clasped behind his back, he strode out of the Training
Area, Patricia at his right. They kept walking for a few minutes, the
tension becoming almost unbearable. What unnerved her even more
was that the Commander felt no different to her, she was almost the
exact same from the first time she'd sensed him to this very moment.
"I highly doubt it," was the even answer. "No, I just have some
questions. Some I hope you can answer."
They reached an elevator and both stepped into it. "Good. I'm
curious, Patricia, how long have you known you were psionic?"
Damn it. He was not going to be happy. Best not to make it worse
than it likely already was. "Soon after Vahlen examined me," Patricia
answered truthfully. "With Vahlen's reaction and… certain other
circumstances, it was the only explanation that made sense."
The elevator opened up and they both walked out and into the
hallway. "So, why didn't you ask to be sure?" The Commander asked
as they walked, his feelings impossible to determine from his tone.
"Hmm…" the Commander pursed his lips. "I'd hardly qualify you
exhibiting psionic abilities as an 'interruption.' I believe it might
actually be essential to our own efforts."
Patricia had to agree with that. Stupid idiot, she cursed herself. "That
being said, I believe I do owe you an explanation for not informing
you of our own results," the Commander continued. "Vahlen
deduced that you were psionic, and it was my own mistake to refrain
from informing you. The truth was neither of us believed you would
develop any abilities without training, or believe it would get much
worse for you than it already was," his lips twitched. "That, and there
were some other projects I felt should take priority."
They finally arrived at his office and as the door hissed open, they
walked through. "Though I did not account for you deducing this, let
alone training yourself to use it."
The door closed behind them and he turned to finally face her. "So,
I'd like you to explain what exactly you've been doing, what you can
do and how you've been doing it."
"It's gotten to the point that Creed and I were debating telling you
now," she finished. "Someone was going to notice eventually, and
judging from this conversation, someone did."
"I…" she paused, then shrugged. "I don't know. The first time it
happened, it was. I just… tapped into everyone and had them hold
for the signal. I'm still not sure how I did it. But… later, yeah, I've
been trying to utilize my abilities more."
"Like when you told me how many soldiers were in that facility," the
Commander recalled with a small smile. "I'm surprised I forgot that.
Which makes me wonder if you, intentionally or otherwise,
suppressed the memory of me seeing that."
"Ah…" Patricia wasn't certain how to answer. "No, it wasn't my
intention… though I might have wanted you to forget you heard that
and accidentally… made it happen."
"Hmm," the Commander rested his chin on his hand. He was taking
this very well, far more reasonably than she was expecting. "And
Newfoundland?"
"I tried out the timing trick on Soran," Patricia admitted. "And was
sensing each building for life. It's also how I knew to shoot that
chryssalid embryo."
She hesitated, not quite sure she could explain it. "I sort of try to…"
she waved her hands absentmindedly. " Connect with them, so to
speak. Focus on something simple, like a countdown. I plant a cue,
or suggestion, like attack or open and they do it all at once."
"Yet you can't read their minds," the Commander noted curiously.
"Even though you can influence them to this degree."
She shrugged. "Oddly enough, the best word I can use to describe is
empty . Though that's not exactly accurate, he still feels things, he's
just not emotional about anything. Neutral would likely be a better
word."
There was silence between both of them. "So what now?" She
asked.
"You're going to get sent down to Vahlen and let her run whatever
tests she deems appropriate," the Commander stated. "Afterwards,
you are free to continue training as you were."
It made perfect sense, true, but she was getting off with practically
no punishment. "You're not going to punish me?"
"That's all I ask," he nodded once. "Though I do wonder, how did you
convince Creed to be… well, experimented upon."
Patricia shrugged. "I asked him. I explained what my goal was and
why I wanted it. He agreed."
"Still," the Commander mused. "You weren't just asking for a
sparring partner."
Friend . That might have been the first time she actually had thought
of him as such. She got along with most of the soldiers here, but
there weren't any she would have labeled as friends except maybe
Abby. With Creed it had just sort of… happened. She smiled at that,
Paige would have been happy she'd found another friend besides
her.
Though there was still one little matter to resolve. "Are you going to
make this public?" She asked.
"I'll inform all the Squad Overseers," the Commander answered. "But
aside from that, I'll leave it to you to decide how best to let that
information spread. I can't guarantee that the Overseers will keep it
to themselves, but I won't spread it around."
She nodded. That issue she'd have to discuss with Creed, but there
was one lingering question. "You're being awfully lenient," she noted.
"Not to mention trusting. Why?"
Instinctively, she formed her hand into a fist and placed it over her
heart in his salute. It seemed appropriate now. No Commander had
ever said anything like that, they certainly appreciated her, of course.
But none of them had treated her as a capable person outside her
field. Yet the Commander did just on the basis of she was one of his
soldiers, an almost unheard of respect for someone of her rank.
Almost numb with shock at what had just transpired, Patricia left his
office. She had some fairly important decisions to make soon.
She took a sip of water and appraised him. "So, what's on your
mind?"
"If your primary job wasn't traditional intelligence work, then what
was it?" He asked, wondering if she would actually give an answer.
She raised an eyebrow. "My, curious, aren't you? Think you can trick
me into revealing state secrets?"
Soran just looked at her, wondering if that was meant to get some
kind of reaction. "No. It wasn't my intention. I'm just curious as you
noted."
"Hmm," she started eating, speaking in between bites. "Well, I
suppose I can tell you some things. I primarily participated in stings,
cracking down on criminals and terrorists."
A rather bold move, Soran noted, and likely one that wouldn't work.
"More will just appear, you know."
"Perhaps," Shun shrugged. "But it'll take them years to reform, if they
even do so at all."
"So is that what you primary focus on," Soran continued. "Putting
down anti-government rebels?"
"No, it's not," Shun amended. "I've been called on some raids, but
I've primarilybeen focused on the Triad. If there is an immediate
threat to the Chinese government, it is the Triad."
She raised a glass. "If I ever see Mr. Zhang, I'll have to thank him for
his contribution. Right before I arrest him, of course."
Soran blinked. He was fairly sure he'd heard that name before. If he
was right and it was the same Zhang… well, she was going to be in
for an unpleasant surprise. "Why arrest him?" Soran asked, cocking
his head. "He seems to have performed a great service."
"And that excuses the crimes of his past?" Shun retorted, shaking
her head. "Regardless of what he did, it certainly wasn't out of the
goodness of his heart. Self-preservation and revenge don't equal
forgiveness for his crimes.
Hmm. Should he break the potentially bad news to her now, or wait
to confirm?He was fairly certain he was right, but if not… at best he
might get a dishonorable discharge, especially if Shun decided to
make a scene out of it. The Commander would know, and at the very
least needed to know about a potential issue within the ranks.
A development like that would have been kept under heavy wraps in
practically any military, but the Commander had just told him. Why?
He doubted it was a slip of the tongue, but hadn't wanted to press
him any further. Perhaps he could when he spoke to him about
this… issue.
"Mind if I ask you a question?" Shun asked, crossing her arms and
resting them on the table.
"What did you do?" Shun asked curiously. "They don't let just anyone
into the 1st Airborne Brigade."
It was only fair. "Fine," he let out. "I was… well, a scout is such a
generic term, but it fits rather well. I kept track on enemies, reported
on their positions for hours, enduring some rather harsh conditions
and were able to track them if they ever left."
"Oh it was," Soran recalled. "So much fun. On occasion, I'd even do
some light infiltration. Disguise myself and report from inside.
Though I was really only doing it a few hours before the eventual
sting. Still, it's interesting to play a different person from time to
time."
" Interesting is a term for it, I suppose," Shun muttered. "I assure you
were pretty good if they never caught onto you?"
"I would not have guessed that about you," Shun shook her head.
"Our roles should really be different. I've never been given a mission
to infiltrate, but have likely seen more combat than you. Is it difficult
readjusting to… you?"
He gave her a smile, a genuine one. "I see no reason too. I'm not a
robot, Shun. But it takes a lot to get a reaction out of me."
Soran chuckled. "For some reason, I'd think those thin men would
notice if I started walking among them. They might have some kind
of special smell they use to detect their kind. Not to mention I don't
speak their language."
"An interesting one-" Soran began, but was cut off when his
wristband suddenly buzzed. A mission, time to get ready. He gave
Shun an apologetic look. "Guess I'll have to put my abilities to work."
Soran stood and gave her a nod and smile. "Appreciated. I'll speak
to you later."
Soran finished a quick entry, tapping on his tablet while putting his
pistol in his holster. Samuel walked over, rifle in hand. "You ready?"
He asked, his helmet distorting his voice.
Soran finished up and sat the tablet down and put his own helmet
on. "Yes," he answered as his HUD initialized. He grabbed his rifle
and stood. "Let's go."
"Hmm," Samuel looked ahead. "You don't have any family you'd
want to inform?"
"None I'm close to," Soran admitted. "I just had too many issues with
them. Better for us to part ways."
"Well, let's hope this mission keeps up that streak," Samuel said as
they turned a corner. "I'll try not to get you all killed."
Soran gave a grin under his helmet. "I'm not worried. You'll lead us
well."
"The promotion was a bit sudden," Samuel noted with a shrug. "But
I'm told Creed's promotion to Squad Overseer was the same. I guess
the Commander trusts me enough to lead a mission."
"Has the Commander told you what to expect here?" Soran asked.
"A large UFO," Samuel revealed. "He's sending Myra down as well
so he clearly thinks we'll need the extra firepower."
Soran blinked. Hmm, he hadn't expected that. "I thought it was just
going to be Marten, Blake, Friendly and Sarah?"
"It was," Samuel nodded. "But I suggested using Myra, since the last
time one of these kind landed, it… didn't go well. At least from what
Marten described."
Well, good foresight for Samuel. The aliens were definitely in for a
surprise. "Blake is the medic, right?"
Ah, right. Soran remembered the former combat medic had been
one Abigail Gertrude. He'd had yet to meet her since her transfer to
XCOM Intelligence, but he'd seen her after the EXALT raid. Based
on her profile, he wouldn't have guessed her to be the intelligence
type. But appearances could be deceiving, of course.
The doors to the Hangar slid open and Soran saw the rest of the
squad waiting for their approach. All of them snapped into a salute
as Samuel approached, Soran included once they stopped walking.
"Not yet, Overseer," Marten answered, shaking his head. "But he's
coming."
Soran looked over to see Myra in her MEC suit being hooked into
the MEC skyranger transport. At least she'd be ready to go once
their pilot arrived. "You know who it is?" Soran asked.
"Damn it," Marten muttered. "Let's hope this one goes better."
Sarah raised her hand, pointing her thumb at Myra behind her.
"We've got a massive robotic soldier. I think this will go a bit better."
"Let's not celebrate yet," Soran cautioned. "The aliens won't just give
up because of our MEC."
"Then I'll settle for their burned corpses," Sarah shrugged. "Ah,
there's our pilot."
Soran turned and saw Tristin, or "Fallen Sky" walking toward them,
aviation helmet in hand. His expression was one of complete
seriousness and gave a quick salute as he approached Samuel.
"Your squad ready?" He asked.
"Yes," Samuel added, taking the lead, his rifle at the ready. "We've
got a UFO to raid!"
Soran flexed his right hand as the skyranger sped through the skies.
Despite his warning, he got the impression that the soldiers around
him were going into this mission a tad overconfident. While having a
massive robotic soldier would no doubt increase their odds, it didn't
negate the alien's lethality at all.
Well, they had a medic with them in case things went bad. Blake sat
across from him, seeming completely at ease with his hands resting
on his legs. The med-kit was strapped to his belt, with several
additional charges beside it. Good to see him prepared, though
Soran wasn't sure he'd ever seen him deployed on a mission before.
"You wonder why they've set down?" Sarah asked, looking over at
him. "Seems like a massive risk, especially since we have satellite
coverage over the US."
"These are aliens who think all they have to do to pass for a human
is put some glasses and a hat on them," Blake pointed out and they
all chuckled. "I'm not sure how subtle they really are."
" More than you think, Private Harkin," the voice of the Commander
interrupted. "Underestimate them at your own peril. Now, Laker
Team, you're heading towards Idaho. As you've heard, the aliens
have sent down a large UFO for unspecified reasons. Based on
previous instances, we're assuming they're conducting some sort of
research, in which case it's imperative that we put an end to them."
"We can get into positionbeforehand and let Myra know when to
strike," Sarah suggested. "It might work to our advantage."
"We also run the risk of drawing to much fire on her," Soran pointed
out. "Remember the aliens don't use bullets."
"I'll make the decision on the ground," Samuel stated. "I want to see
the area first. Do you have an image of the area?"
" Affirmative, Overseer," Central answered. "Note that this isn't real-
time. The craft is generating a signal that's disrupting our images of
the area. But this was captured just after it landed."
" Fallen Sky to Laker Team, strap in," Fallen Sky interrupted, his
voice tense. "I've got bogeys approaching."
All of them wasted no time and strapped in, which most of them were
in the habit of not doing since nothing usually happened on the flight
over. "Fallen Sky, what's going on?" Samuel demanded.
" We're a few miles from the landing zone," he answered. "It appears
the aliens have set up air sentries?"
The skyranger suddenly jerked and made a hard right. Soran could
hear something hissing by outside. "Cyberdisks!" Fallen Sky swore.
"They're using cyberdisks!"
" Give me a second, and hold on!" Was his tense response. Soran
gripped his restraints, and just in time and the skyranger suddenly
pulled up and twisted around. He was thoroughly disoriented now.
The hisses nearby must be the skyranger's return fire.
" Not really safe until we clear out the remaining two cyberdisks,"
Fallen Sky answered. "Gray Sky, what's your status?"
" Holding back for now," the voice of the MEC transport pilot
answered. "I don't exactly have the maneuverability you do."
"Do it," Samuel ordered. "They know we're here now and might
converge on our position. We need to land as soon as possible."
" You got the last one?" Fallen Sky asked as he pulled the skyranger
into a sharp turn.
The lights in the skyranger flashed to the familiar solid red. "Prepare
to deploy!" Samuel shouted as he unbuckled his restraints and stood
up, grabbing a handle above his head. The rest of them followed
suit, the floor under them shaking from the fire.
The smell of melting metal and gas filled the air, along with the
sound of a massive autolaser being fired. "Deploy!" Samuel shouted
and they charged out into the Idaho fields, Soran ready for the
upcoming alien attack.
The skyranger roared behind him as Soran charged out into the field.
The sounds of cyberdisk cannons drew his attention upwards, where
the machine was firing at the fleeing skyranger. A few seconds later,
dozens of red pulses lit up the area around the cyberdisk, and Soran
looked back to see Myra firing upwards.
All of them raised their weapons and began firing. The cyberdisk
attempted to retract into its disk shell, but it couldn't do it fast enough
to avoid the burning beams that sliced, burned and cauterized the
delicate mechanisms within it. The result was that the transformation
was incomplete, and the cyberdisk slowly lost altitude, weeping
yellow liquid from gaps in it's shell.
" Leave it to me," Myra stated as she stormed past to them where
the cyberdisk was falling. It hit the ground with a crash and she
stopped around five feet before it, then unloaded a barrage of laser
fire which caused the cyberdisk to explode in a small fireball a few
seconds later. She turned back to them. "Threat neutralized."
"Good work," Samuel nodded, turning towards the forest where the
UFO was within. "Fallen Sky, Gray Sky, status?"
" We're in Hawkeye protocol now," Fallen Sky answered. "The skies
are clear for now. Proceed."
Soran peeked around his tree trunk as more plasma fire slammed
into nearby tree trunks and whizzed past his helmet. He took a few
precious seconds to figure out what they were facing. Mutons . A lot
of mutons. There were no less than eight, also taking cover behind
tree trunks and laying down a steady stream of suppressive fire.
Now the green light show was joined by sizzling red lasers as the
squad began firing back. A muton screamed as one of Samuel's
beams tore into it's face and it collapsed to the ground. Sarah and
Marten both targeted one on the far left, targeting it's body that was
sticking out of cover far too small for it's hulking frame.
Soran heard Myra grunt and quickly glanced back to see her take a
step back, the area by her shoulder sizzling, green plasma residue
indicating where she'd been hit. She responded by blasting the
muton who'd shot her, and not only eviscerated the muton, but also
shattered the tree.
With a snap and groan, the tree began falling to the right, forcing one
to the mutons to fall back else he'd get crushed. Soran raised his
rifle and took aim. Once the shot was lined up, he fired. The red
beam sliced into the leg and the muton fell to the ground with a howl.
Not a killing shot, but it set up Blake to send a laser beam directly
into it's head.
"More coming!" Marten warned as he began firing in short bursts.
Soran looked beyond the remaining muton to see he was right. Six
more were charging their position, providing much needed
reinforcements to the aliens.
"Myra, burn them out!" Samuel ordered. "Lay down suppressive fire.
I don't want a single return shot!"
But it worked, the mutons knew that XCOM couldn't keep this up
forever and had opted, wisely, to wait. Which would have been an
excellent strategy, had Myra not been with them. Her MEC suit
allowed her to charge over within seconds, setting her up on their
right flank.
Cones of flame burst from them, washing over the mutons position
setting everything in their path alight. The effect was vicious and
immediate as the mutons howled in pain and began running back,
their heavy green armor heated to oven temperatures, cooking them
inside it.
A burst of… something suddenly blew the wall of flame away and the
largest outsider Soran had ever seen stepped through, flanked by
two smaller ones, several drones flying overhead and even more
mutons behind it. It was a deeper orange than the smaller outsiders,
but seemed identical in almost every other way.
"Do they ever stop?" Sarah muttered as she began lining up a shot.
"Kill them!" Samuel ordered and they all began firing at the new
arrivals. The outside immediately leapt into cover, using their limited
immunity to the lasers to begin getting into flanking positions.
"Myra, Sarah, Blake! Take out the left one now!" Samuel ordered as
plasma began flying at them again. "Soran, Marten! Suppress the
right one! Me and Friendly will take the big one!"
"Copy!" Soran yelled and began firing short bursts at the outsider
that was taking an uncomfortable angle near him.
The outsider Myra was trying to pin down was proving more adept
than theirs. It kept moving, shooting at the much less nimble MEC,
scoring shots that while not very damaging, were adding up. The
outsider leader was not even firing yet, just staring and seeming to
appraise the situation.
Soran pursed his lips. That was going to pose a problem for them.
Outsiders could absorb and reflect energy, so it made sense that a
larger one was going to be able to do it even better. The bad news
was that it was essentially invincible unless all of them focus fired it
down.
The two drones circling the massive outsider suddenly fire a small
sustained laser, but not at any of the soldiers, but directly into the
outsider. Well, well, it seemed they'd taken some inspiration from
XCOM. "Look at the drones!" He shouted as the outsider raised its
palm again to shoot another laser.
This time it aimed at a much larger target: Myra. The beam slammed
into her and began cutting into the armor. She began firing at the
outsider, but her weapon only added made it more powerful. The
smaller outsider that had been harassing her leapt toward her, still
firing.
That gave Sarah and Blake the opportunity to hit the elusive alien.
Blake managed to freeze the outsider with his sizzling red beam, and
Sarah immediately joined hers. Myra noticed and one blast later the
outsider became overloaded and exploded.
Soran and Samuel aimed at the drones above and began firing. One
exploded thanks to one of Samuel's lasers hitting it, while the other
was taken out by Friendly who'd taken a forward position to get a
better shot.
The battle was slowly turning in their favor as they could now focus
on the massive outsider and remaining mutons. Myra unleashed
another torrent of flame at a covering pair of mutons, who stood no
chance. But Soran noticed that she was in much worse shape than
earlier, her armor was scorched, torn and pieces falling off. She
couldn't keep this up forever.
Now the massive outsider began firing its massive weapon, streams
of plasma bursting out at previously impossible speeds. All the
soldiers ducked back into cover as the outsider suppressed the area.
Soran sucked in his breath. A weapon like that would cut through
Myra if it was sustained for even a few seconds.
Samuel had the same idea. "Return fire!" He yelled and the area was
filled with red bursts and beams as they continued ravaging the area.
Soran perked up as a familiar sound reached his ears. Chittering.
His assumption was proven true when Blake pointed behind the
outsider. "Sectoids!"
Soran took a closer look at the approaching alien. Both of them had
the augmented black arms. Leaders. Not good. Purple energy
converged around their heads as they gathered psionic energy.
Plasma fire from the mutons and outsider raining around him, Soran
still tried taking aim. "Disrupt them, now!" He shouted as they thrust
their heads forward. One purple strand went towards Friendly, the
other towards Samuel.
Samuel stumbled back, then aimed his rifle at the approaching
sectoid. "Get out of my head, freak!" Then fired a beam that sliced
it's augmented arm off, forcing it back with chitters of pain.
The other sectoid was dashing into cover, and the outsider took the
opportunity and stormed over to Friendly's position. Samuel, Blake
and Marten all fired at it, but it simply just absorbed the energy,
gathering it into itspalm which began glowing a bright orange.
Friendly tried firing at it, but the sectoid had disoriented him so much
that his laser went wild.
The decapitated body fell to the ground, the head landing close by it.
It's target dead, the outsider turned to the rest of them.
Soran looked around at the rest of the squad. All of them were under
fire from the mutons, who were slowly advancing as XCOM was
stalled by the outsider. Myra was in bad shape, some sparks flying
from exposed parts in her chassis every few seconds. The outsider
was no less damaged than before and the sectoids were still out
there, and they'd use their psionics at the earliest opportunity.
Samuel locked his helmet on him, and Soran could almost see the
thoughts running through his mind. They might be able to win this.
Might . And chances were high that they'd lose at least another
soldiers, not to mention they'd have to deal with whatever was still
remaining at the UFO.
The aliens had sent a small army with this one, and as well-equipped
and trained as XCOM was, even they couldn't take down a force this
large without serious casualties. The aliens weren't going to go
anywhere, and Soran didn't see a reason they should risk losing
everything for a dubious victory. They had to know when to retreat.
Blake tossed several canisters of the pink smoke around them and
everyone else began tossing grenades at the mutons, outsider and
sectoids. Soran tossed a flash-bang at the place he'd seen the
sectoids, figuring it'd be better there.
" Heading there now," came the voice of Fallen Sky. "Gray Sky is
right behind me."
"Ah!" Sarah gasped and spun to the ground, clutching her arm.
Blake knelt beside her and hauled her up. Soran winced as he saw
where the plasma had hit, already eating through her armor and
skin.
That could have gone better. But at least they'd managed to mitigate
their losses.
After-Action Report
Personnel:
Status: Active
Kills: 7
Status: Active
Kills: 6
Kills: 4
Status: Deceased
Kills: 4
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 14
Artifacts Recovered:
"I'm sorry about Friendly," the Commander told Van Doorn as the
skyranger flew back.
Van Doorn gave a deep sigh, and didn't bother hiding the sadness in
his voice. "Appreciated, Commander. He served well and I'll ensure
he's remembered. But he wasn't the first friend I've lost, and likely
won't be the last."
In the end, there were only a few plausible answers. Either the aliens
had gotten lucky and sent just enough aliens to push them back by
complete accident. Or the other, more likely possibility.
"It's probably not one of the soldiers," the Commander agreed. "But
an analyst? A technician with access to the systems?" He glanced
over at Bradford. "Are you certain your people are trustworthy?"
"I'm not convinced that they would be sent directly to the aliens," Van
Doorn interrupted, frowning. "We might have to consider the
possibility that we've been infiltrated by EXALT. Who as we've noted,
have some kind of connection to the aliens."
"I know you will," the Commander interrupted, raising a hand to cut
him off. "And while you believe so, I'm not convinced. If there is a
spy, they need to be found and removed before the next mission
ends with all our soldiers dead."
"If she has issues, send her to me," the Commander answered,
tapping his finger on the holotable. "But she's not cleared yet. I don't
want her brought into this until we're certain she's clean."
"Zhang might spook her though," Van Doorn pointed out, his
eyebrows furrowing. "She might get suspicious either way."
"Zhang did this for a living," the Commander reminded him, glancing
over quickly as he pondered the blue map of the world. "I trust him to
be subtle."
"Look on the bright side," Van Doorn gave him a lopsided smile. "At
least we stopped whatever they were doing, not to mention took out
an impressive number of their soldiers."
"We'll hopefully have a short break here," Bradford said. "I'll gather
the data from around the time of our attack and send it to Zhang.
Maybe he can find something in that."
"That there is," the Commander agreed. "Though I suspect it's now
on wildly different topics."
Zhang clasped his hands behind his back. "I'll let you go first, then."
"Yes," Zhang confirmed with a nod. "And I see you've come to the
same conclusion I have."
"Yes, there are too many signs not to at least warrant some kind of
response," he said, walking over to his table and picking up a file.
"This is why you've come here, I assume?"
"Of course," Zhang assured him. "I handled internal… affairs during
my work with the Triad. They take betrayal as seriously as we do. If
there is a traitor within XCOM, I will find them."
"I would," the Commander agreed. "I want this kept quiet as much as
possible until we have some kind of evidence."
"I'll keep my agents to a minimum," Zhang promised. "I'll have Akello
take a look."
The Commander crossed his arms. "You certain you can trust her?"
"I trust her not to make stupid mistakes," Zhang amended slowly.
"She isn't reliable on everything, but I can assure you she's not a
traitor."
Well, there was going to have to be someone who was a risk, and at
the moment, Akello was a much lower risk than Jackson, no matter
how much Bradford trusted her. He hoped that she was clean,
because then she would be exceptionally helpful inpinpointing any
breaches. But for now, he had to put his trust in Zhang's judgement.
His trust actually was pretty high. He knew that Zhang would be
impartial when dealing with an issue like this, he was far more
reliable than Bradford here. The Commander admired Bradford's
optimism and trust, but he had issues with viewing people
objectively. Like it or not, if there was a traitor, Jackson was a fairly
obvious target.
"I'll take your word for it," the Commander said. "But keep an eye on
her."
"Yes, our allies," Zhang muttered. "I suppose I might as well move
into the topic I wanted to speak to you about." He pressed a few
buttons on the holotable and if displayed the land around Israel a few
seconds later.
"Not if his cover is to remain intact," Zhang shook his head. "Israel is
almost as paranoid as us about monitoring communications. Any
more specific and someone would have noticed."
"No," Zhang agreed, pursing his lips as he looked at the map. "At the
very least this implies an expectation of war. And I'm not convinced
that it's the aliens that they're training for."
"NATO would become involved at the very least," Zhang stated. "But
I think it's time to know for certain what's going on." He highlighted a
part of the map. "I've identified one of their training areas, which I
believe to be the main one. I want to send in my operatives, take as
much information from their databases as possible, and leave."
"I thought you'd agree, but I needed to be sure," Zhang said. "This
mission will not be on any records. If my operatives get caught, they
will be disavowed."
"The only agents I have on hand," Zhang answered. "Abby, Ruth and
Akello."
"Abby performed well in the Russian op," Zhang answered firmly. "I
have no reason to believe she'll do worse here. Should they be
caught, Ruth has standing orders to kill her, since I wouldn't trust her
to hold up under interrogation yet."
"She will," Zhang assured her. "She's loyal to XCOM and humanity
now, and will do whatever it takes to ensure victory. Besides, I think
she's just as curious as to what Israel is doing. In addition, she's very
familiar with their systems which will be invaluable to Akello."
Abby walked down the hallway with Ruth, wondering what prompted
the sudden call they'd received. Well, she would take that over what
she'd been doing, namely interrogating that EXALT soldier using a
very wide variety of methods. She'd been there to monitor him and
make sure they didn't go too far.
She'd felt sick initially, watching Ruth and a few more XCOM agents
systematically drive the man to the brink of insanity. She'd
recommended against permanent mutilation, because for one, it
wasn't the most effective form of torture, and two, she'd thought that
might make the agents go easier on him.
The first tests involved figuring out his exact pain resistance, and
realistically, there was only one way to really test that. After hooking
up several sensors, she'd watched the man be cut, burned and
exposed to corrosive agents. She'd forced herself not to intervene
once the man began screaming, remembering her orders were to
only intervene if he was in danger of death or insanity along with
recording the data from the sensors.
It was… difficult.
She hadn't been able to sleep that night. She hadn't been sure if she
should feel guilty or not, since she hadn't actually done anything to
hurt him, but she'd been complicit nonetheless.
They'd been in the process of refining some of the drugs when Ruth
had told her Zhang needed to speak with them. As good a reason as
any, and she'd be glad to leave the cells for a while. She'd
considered asking Ruth how she rationalized it, because Abby did
think that she wasn't a bad person. But it was sometimes hard to
rationalize that when she'd watched her make pinpoint incisions on a
helpless prisoner.
Zhang gave a small nod, as stoic as ever. Akello burst into a wide
smile. "Abby! Haven't seen you for a few days."
Abby hesitated, not sure how much she should say. Instead she
gave a forced smile. "Been busy, good to see you too."
Ruth gave Zhang a salute and Abby remembered that even in the
relaxed atmosphere of XCOM Intelligence, Zhang was due some
amount of proper respect. Abby quickly copied Ruth and placed her
fist over her heart.
"At ease," Zhang said after a couple seconds, then gestured them
over. "Come here."
"So…" Akello said, crossing her arms. "What's Israel got to do with
why you called us?"
"That might have changed," Zhang stated, moving the map over to
an unmarked place. "Israel has locked down on all outside
communications within the IDF, and I assume this also applies to the
Mossad and their respective branches. A few days ago they've
begun combat exercises and war games. All signs point to an Israeli
conquest, and if so, XCOM needs to know about it."
"Not to mention they might provoke the rest of the world," Abby
pointed out. "Remember Palestine?"
"You know how they operate," Zhang reminded her. "I'm certain you'll
do fine. Akello will devise a way to get the files, and you and Abby
will go in."
"Right…" Akello muttered. "Yes, I'm going to find a way to break into
the IDF database. Yay."
"Good," Zhang looked back at Abby. "Both of you will meet up with
my source who's at the mission site. He'll give you any additional
information you'll need."
Abby swallowed. She didn't think she was completely ready for this,
but it seemed they had no choice. "One more thing," Zhang added,
his tone somehow growing more serious. "This mission is extremely
sensitive for a number of practical and political reasons. Should you
fail in your mission, you will be disavowed by XCOM. As far as you're
concerned, this mission does not exist. Understood?"
Abby took a breath. "Yes, Director," she answered quietly. Ruth and
Akello nodded as well.
"Good luck," Zhang told them. "A skyranger is waiting to take you
there."
Olivia and Baston fired several shots down the hill at the targets that
were set up. The cardboard stood no chance as the bullets ripped
through it, leaving a series of new holes within it. Cerian took a
breath, steadied his own weapon, and fired a single shot towards the
farthest target.
Olivia smirked and patted him on the shoulder a few times. "Keep
telling yourself that, Deadshot, it's pretty damn impressive to the rest
of us."
Cerian shook his head and began walking back to his house. "Only
in movies, Baston. This operation will have none of that," he clapped
his hands together once. "Alright, enough diversion. Back to work."
He'd assumed that the files they'd recovered would provide a solid
enough link for further investigation, namely, Solaris Industries.
Unfortunately, it seemed that Patrick and his superiors were still
considering how best to handle that particular revelation, if at all.
Well, like it or not, it was the best lead they had, even if it wasn't
strictly related to XCOM.
While they'd been waiting for new orders, Cerian had his team split
into two teams, one focusing on the files recovered and gaining
whatever information they could from them, and another looking into
the organization EXALT.
As for EXALT, they hadn't been able to come up with much more
than the conspiracy theories of old, all espoused by delusional men
and woman who could be considered insane or believed in things so
outlandish it invalidated everything that came out of their mouths.
Cerian did like to keep an open mind… but it was hard to consider
some of these people as reliable sources when they believed that
JFK was assassinated by the US government, the moon landing was
faked and the Earth was actually flat.
Control . For what he'd read, EXALT was a very exclusive, invitation-
only type of organization. Oddly enough, that did seem to be
somewhat backed by evidence, since all the people willing to go on
record had clearly stated that they'd never been part of the
organization, only stumbled upon it by accident.
However, if he actually accepted that this was all true, then it raised
a whole host of other questions. Namely, how one of these
whistleblowers wasn't actually from EXALT itself. All organizations
had traitors or defectors, and if EXALT really was hundreds of years
old, Cerian found it extremely unlikely that there hadn't been one
defection all that time.
Unless of course EXALT really wasn't all that old, or had that many
members. If EXALT was really as large as the stories claimed, there
would be a lot more information than what was currently available.
The second pattern was infiltration . All the accounts claimed EXALT
had people placed in highly influential positions throughout the world,
within businesses, media and governments. Through them, it was
said, EXALT spread it's influence with no one the wiser. Supposedly.
If there was one thing they all agreed on, it was that no one knew
exactly what EXALT was doing or how they operated. Again, this
made Cerian suspicious about what the organization actually was. If
couldn't be as big as claimed and still retain this seemingly
impenetrable veil of secrecy, lies and deception.
So, from the limited records, confessions and evidence he'd been
able to gather, there were only three possible explanations. Well,
four if he was being honest.
One: EXALT existed, the legends were true and they exuded a
massive amount of influence over the world. In which case, the rest
of them were pretty much dead.
Two: EXALT existed, but it wasn't nearly as old and influential as the
stories went. They were a threat, yes, but not one powerful enough
to control governments and start wars.
Three: EXALT did not exist, and the group they were after was
simply using the name for reasons Cerian didn't know.
Four: EXALT didn't exist and all of them were chasing a completely
dead end, or more accurately, XCOM was being played since they
were the ones who seemed to be under the impression this was who
they were dealing with.
Now… after extensive research, Cerian did feel like there very likely
was an organization called EXALT. In that case, the second
explanation would be the one that made the most sense, since the
chances of an organization that large and influential still being
nothing but a legend would be nearly impossible.
Still, there was one thing he wasn't sure of: The ultimate goal. The
records were no help there, he'd seen their motives range from world
domination to simple finances. Some said they had benevolent
plans, and others declared they were planning a police state where
they utterly controlled all individuals.
But perhaps it was the simplest answer that made the most sense.
Unfortunately he wouldn't know until he actually investigated further.
He opened the door to his house and stepped onto the wood floors.
Mary was sitting casually on the couch in the living room directly to
his left, typing and staring at her laptop screen. Propping his rifle in
the corner by the door, he strode over to her. "Anything new?" He
asked, standing before her.
She glanced up at him. "Oh, hey boss. You win your little…" she
waved her hand in a circular motion. "Shooting contest?"
"Sadly no," Mary sighed, taking the opportunity to stretch and used
both her hands to push her hair behind her ears. "I'm considering
trying to poke around Solaris Industries firewalls, but that's not going
to be easy several thousand miles away."
"With any luck we'll be taking a visit to the States soon," Cerian told
her. "I'm just as eager to follow up on this as you, believe me."
She bit her lip and returned to looking at the screen. "Good."
Cerian left the room and walked into the kitchen, where Ren and
Darril were playing a game of checkers on the table. Cerian had
never liked that game, found it too simplistic, but did see how others
might. He pulled out a glass and listened to the two men as he
poured water into it.
"So, you think Israel and Germany actually know the Commander is
in charge of XCOM?" Darril asked as they played.
"From what I've heard, China isn't happy with the Commander at the
moment," Cerian interjected, walking over by them and taking a seat.
"They didn't exactly like their play to block the Chinese from the
dreadnought wreckage."
"Yeah, but won't that be sorted within the month?" Ren asked,
looking over at him. "I'm pretty sure China managed to clear those
claims quicker than usual."
"Oh they did," Cerian confirmed. "But they won't forget so quickly."
"Well if nothing else, I can applaud the Commander for the sheer gall
to challenge the Chinese like that," Darril stated, raising his glass of
water in a mock acknowledgement. "But realistically, what can China
really do about it aside from being really angry."
Cerian paused and looked up. "They can reduce their funding, worse
case they leave completely. But Russia and several other countries
have stepped up their funding in response, negating whatever effect
China may have had."
Cerian hesitated before answered. That question was also one that
had interested him, but Patrick hadn't really given a satisfactory
response. "Don't know," he admitted, shaking his head. "Based on
insinuations from Patrick, it sounds like the US is staying neutral
here and letting China and Russia lead the different sides."
"Odd for the US to step back," Darril muttered. "They love being the
center of attention."
"Well, if there was one country that could manage that, it would be
them," Ren commented. "King me."
He was cut off as Cerian's phone began ringing. Both men stopped
and looked at him. Cerian immediately stood and looked at his
phone. A scrambled number, about time he was getting some
contact. He answered. "Hello, operative Irelan speaking?"
That excuse might have worked on anyone else, but Cerian wasn't
that fooled. "It might have been part of the reason, but it certainly
wasn't all of it. However, I'd also prefer we moved on. You get
everything my team was able to compile on EXALT and the files?"
Cerian frowned and looked at the phone. " Sorry ?" He asked
incredulously. "But… ah, why ? Solaris Industries is our clear next
target, especially since we don't have anything new for XCOM."
" I should remind you that your purpose is to investigate XCOM, not
EXALT, or whatever they're calling themselves, " Patrick reminded
him with a sigh. "EXALT is something we can deal with later."
"I disagree," Cerian stated flatly. "No matter if EXALT is real or not,
the fact remains that this organization is complicit in criminal activity
and has incriminated one of the largest weapons manufacturers in
the United States. If EXALT is working against XCOM, and by
extension, with the aliens, I would feel that warrants our
investigation."
" It does, " Patrick agreed wearily. "But believe it or not, there is
another reason you're not being sent over to America. Yet."
" One of our watchers in Tel Aviv spotted your XCOM agents,"
Patrick said. "For obvious reasons, we want you to investigate."
That got Cerian's attention and he stormed into the house. "Hold for
a moment," he told Patrick and looked toward Mary. "Mary! Tap into
the security feeds at Tel Aviv. We've got XCOM agents apparently."
" After this I'll have you follow up on the Solaris lead," Patrick
assured him. "Regardless about what some of my superiors believe,
this should be solved before it becomes a problem."
"Can I ask you something?" Abby asked Ruth as they laid on the
dunes while the sun set behind them. Clothed in tan desert garb,
their faces completely covered up along with any exposed skin, Abby
still found it annoying how grains of sand still got in her eyes, mouth
and nose.
Ruth didn't seem bothered, but Abby figured she was used to this
since she'd grown up here. With the binoculars pressed to her eyes,
Ruth didn't look over as she responded. "Go ahead."
Abby hesitated. It might not be the best time, but they had a while
before the sun set completely, allowing them to enter undetected.
Even if it was, Ruth wouldn't get irritated at her. Hopefully, anyway. "If
it's not prying too much, were you always a Kidon agent or it
happened… later?"
Ruth put down the binoculars. "I wasn't always an agent, no. But I
wasn't especially special before it either."
"I was a teacher," she answered slowly. "In Palestine long before the
Pacification. I was very idealistic back then, thinking there would be
where I could do the most good. Tensions between us and them
were cold even back then, I thought I might be able to help that in
some way."
Ruth snorted. "The kids were great, they hadn't been taught they
were supposed to hate me yet. The parents weren't so generous, but
they were desperate for teachers regardless of where they came
from. I figured if I let them be they'd eventually recognize I wasn't
there to hurt them or just get bored."
"You didn't worry about the father coming after you?" Abby asked
incredulously. "Not to mention being caught by someone else?"
"I was," Ruth admitted, raising up her binoculars again. "But I wasn't
going to be intimidated. In the end, I gathered up all my evidence
and went to the authorities," her tone turned hard. "Who promptly
laughed and kicked me out, despite everything I had. To make
matters worse they informed the father I'd come and he promptly
pulled the child out of school and I never saw him again," she gave a
humorless laugh. "Well, he must have been worried since he didn't
say anything do anyone else. Guess he didn't want it turning into an
actual investigation."
"I sent everything I had to Israeli authorities," Ruth muttered. "I didn't
actually think anything would come of it, but I was furious and wasn't
thinking very clearly. Turns out that guy was some high-profile
criminal within Israel and they sent a Mossad agent to meet with me
and gather information."
Abby had a feeling she knew how this story ended. "You killed him?"
Abby furrowed her eyebrows. "How did you get their fingerprints?"
"Easily," Abby could hear the smile in her voice. "Parents do have to
sign quite a few forms, even in Palestine."
Abby shook her head in disbelief. Even as a teacher, she was still an
utterly terrifying woman. But even knowing that, Abby could very
easily see her getting along very well with kids. It was good she
hadn't lost that warmth she'd had while teaching. "What happened
after that?"
"I stayed on for another year, with more or less the same results,"
Ruth continued. "After that someone came and spoke to me, a Kidon
agent and asked if I'd be interested taking a more… active role. My
job was become much more dangerous and I figured it would only be
a matter of time before I was forced to leave, so I accepted."
She shrugged. "And that's the story of how I became a Kidon agent."
Abby smiled at that. "Good point. I never would have thought I'd be
doing this."
"I'd like to ask you a question, actually," Ruth said. "Why'd you want
to become a surgeon?"
Abby shrugged. "I wanted to help people. That seemed like the best
way to do so. You can't do much more than save lives."
"An admirable goal," Ruth nodded. "Not many hold your position. I
suppose that's why it's harder for you."
"Not for sure," Ruth admitted. "But it makes sense. You took an oath
to help people, I'm not blind to the fact that we haven't been doing
that recently."
"Of course," Ruth nodded. "But you're still human, you still might feel
guilty about what we do. But ask yourself if what we do is worth it if
we save more people. How many did you save on the operating
table? A few hundred? Maybe more?"
"Right," Ruth nodded. "And think of how many thousands we'll save,
and only at the cost of a few people who clearly don't deserve that
privilege. It's normal to feel guilty at first, but don't let that blind you to
the good that will come from it."
Abby sighed. She understood the point Ruth was making, but there
was a tangible difference between her work as a surgeon and what
she was doing now. Sure, thousands might be saved, but in the end
it was theoretical, Ruth didn't actually know if their actions would
have saved anyone, but she knew for sure that one man was going
to suffer a horrendous death just based on the possibility.
Ruth looked her in the eye. "That depends on the context. In the
interest of saving humanity I doubt we could go "too far," but for
something on a smaller scale, it largely depends on the person we
target. Tell me, Abby, do you think everyone is worth saving?
Everyone deserving the same amount of decency and respect?"
"At least on some level," Abby answered. "No matter what they've
done, they are still human."
Abby sighed. "I get that… and to some extent I even agree with it.
But regardless of how useful or justified it is, it's not right."
"In passing," Abby answered, shaking her head. "I don't know what it
is."
Abby sighed. "Switch the tracks and sacrifice the one person."
"Right," Ruth told her. "That's what we do. Sacrifice a few to save
many. Do you think that was the 'right' thing to do?"
"I still don't know if I'd call it that," Abby said. "But it was the best
option out of the two."
Ruth did have a point here, and she wasn't sure how she felt about
that. Even from her youth she'd been taught that inflicting harm on
others was wrong and almost always unjustified. In med school that
had been emphasized even more, with quite a bit of time devoted to
malpractice to drive that point home. The War on Terror had shown
the results of a complete lack of empathy on both sides.
She wasn't so sure about herself anymore. She'd passed the point of
no return way back when she watched the Commander torture that
woman and did nothing. In XCOM Intelligence she'd tried to limit the
brutality in the little ways she could, but the fact remained she was
still complicit in their activities, and like it or not, they were justified.
"Another patrol coming up," Ruth noted as she looked through her
binoculars. Abby picked up her own and looked through.
The Israeli IDF had definitely put their alien alloys to good use, since
the soldiers were all wearing some form of armor. The tan-painted
plates weren't nearly as thick or covered more than XCOM armor,
but they covered all the major organs, arms and legs. Their helmets
were also standardized, and looked more like astronaut helmets than
the ones XCOM utilized.
They must have some kind of HUD, because there was no way they
could see out of those helmets normally. It was impressive what
they'd been able to do regardless. "We're really going to stand out,"
Abby muttered as they watched the patrol complete their sweep
around the perimeter of the town.
"I've let our guy know that," Ruth assured her. "He said he'd take
care of it."
"Let's hope so," Abby said, frowning as she looked for more patrols.
"At least there don't seem to be many here."
"For now," Ruth countered. "Either they're training for small groups to
take over towns or more will be coming."
The watch on Abby's wrist beeped. "Akello's signal. Guess our guy is
ready."
Ruth rose to one knee and put the binoculars away. "Let's go." Both
women walked down the dunes, keeping a sharp lookout for any
more Israeli soldiers. The town was mostly made up of sand-blasted
concrete homes with barely more than three rooms. They weren't
dilapidated, but they did appear to be abandoned.
Abby wondered why they'd all left.
Once they reached the perimeter, they kept close to the walls,
moving along the sides listening for footsteps on the sandy streets.
Ruth motioned to one of the seemingly abandoned buildings. Abby
nodded and they both dashed towards the entrance after making
sure the streets were clear.
Once Abby was through, Ruth quickly closed the door behind her.
Abby took a breath and saw the man sitting in a wooden chair, a
pistol pointed at them. "Take off the headgear," he advised, moving
the gun for emphasis. He looked fairly young, brown-skinned, his
black hair buzz cut and bright blue eyes.
Abby slowly and deliberately took off the goggles, desert shawl and
cloth around her face. Ruth did the same. The man she assumed
was Eldad Levi lowered his weapon. "Agents Ruth and Abby, good.
Glad you came so soon."
"Not if you mind your job harder," Eldad shook his head. "If you'd
waited a few more days, there would be a lot more soldiers than
now. These ones are here just to secure the area."
Eldad tapped two casesthat were setting by his feet. "First put these
on, I'll explain while you get dressed," he stood and opened the
cases. "The new standard-issue ָמ ֵג ןarmor," Eldad explained. "You'll
need it to avoid being spotted," he nodded at Abby. "Especially her,
no one here has skin as light as hers."
"I don't suppose you have any more specifics?" Abby grunted as she
began putting on the armor. It was nowhere near as comfortable as
XCOM's.
"I have no doubt they have multiple plans," Ruth confirmed as she
pulled on her gauntlets. "When I was with the Kidon we had
contingencies in case a superpower turned against us. Something
on the scale we're talking about here would likely be either
assassination, or two major powers going to war. The second is
much harder to pull off."
Abby put the helmet on and let it click into her armor, a few seconds
later, a basic HUD appeared, sentences in Hebrew in the lower part
of her HUD and in the corners. "Is any of this important?" She asked.
Eldad turned around and appraised her. "The HUD? No, just
displays some environmental information. Not much different from
XCOM tech, so I'm told. But ignore the Hebrew unless you intend to
be fighting."
"The Prime Minister has pulled every scientist he has into the
military," Eldad informed. "It didn't take much convincing, so I'm told.
They still haven't really managed to improve their weapons, so you'll
just use these." He walked over to the wall and grabbed several
assault rifles standing in the corner and handed the weapons to
them.
He pursed his lips. "Then I suggest you let Ruth do the talking. You
get whatever you need to. After this you won't see me again."
"I'll be sure to," Abby assured him, and they walked out the door into
the street.
"You have Akello's drive?" Ruth asked as they walked the directions
given to them by Eldad.
Abby reached in her pocket and pulled out the drive. "Right here,"
Akello was trying something different this time. Instead of having the
drive allow her to connect to the database, she'd made it so it would
copy everything to the drive itself, since it was already embedded in
the system.
"There it is," Abby muttered. The only two-story building was lit up
with four soldiers guarding the perimeter, with two additional guards
by the entrance. Both women ignored the four soldiers and went
straight to the entrance.
Both looked at each other. "קוד אימות." The right one asked, his
voice sounding suspicious. She seriously wished she spoke Hebrew
right now.
Abby held her breath. The possibility that Eldad had been wrong
hadn't really occurred to her, but she suddenly was concerned.
Please be right…
The two guards stepped aside Ruth and Abby quickly entered into
the building. There were two rooms, immediately to their sides. Both
rooms contained rows of computers, but were adequately filled.
Unfortunately, Abby realized that in her armor, she'd stand out with
all the analysts in far more casual attire.
"I'll distract one," Ruth whispered as she began moving into the
rightmost room. Abby followed a second later while she watched
Ruth go over to one of the analysts and began talking. Abby took
that opportunity to kneel down by one of the computers and slip
Akello's drive into a USB port. A blinking red light appeared at the
end. She assumed that when it turned green it would be finished.
Oh no.
A man was walking down the stairs, but it became quickly apparent
that he wasn't an analyst, nor a soldier for that matter. His uniform
was more ceremonial, with several badges and medals on his
uniform. Probably the commanding officer. Out of pure habit she
snapped into a salute, which she luckily knew thanks to Ruth.
Abby couldn't tell what was going on, but now Ruth was pointing at
the screen and conversing rapidly, at least to her. Now the officer
was apparently interested, judging by how he leaned in and was also
gesturing at the screen, clearly asking her more questions.
Time was passing either really quickly or slowly, she couldn't really
tell, but they talked for a good ten minutes and Abby decided to
check on the drive.
A solid green.
Abby didn't need to be told twice and both of them walked out of the
building at a brisk pace. No one questioned them, and both women
didn't speak, not wanting too until it was safe. They did pass a patrol,
but they must have assumed they were friendly since they just
walked on by.
They reached the edge of the town and began heading to the small
dune buggy they'd arrived in, which they'd use to get to the
extraction point where a skyranger would pick them up. As the town
faded in the background, Abby breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed.
Cerian had long held the opinion that Israel should just really be left
alone. They clearly didn't get along with the UN, nor many others for
that matter and had shown they were perfectly willing to outright defy
them in pursuit of their own security and interests. In short, no good
could really come from treating them as any other country, or holding
them to the same standards.
Truth be told, he actually didn't have a clue why they were actually
here. The most logical explanation for this was they were performing
training exercises or drills. Which then brought up additional
questions such as "why here?" and "why now?" Hard as he found it
to believe, it looked like Israel was preparing for war.
Because if Israel was preparing for war… who were they planning
against.
He wasn't even sure why he was debating this. Israel was many
things, but stupid they were not. Starting a war now would be utterly
foolish and bring down the armies of multiple superpowers upon
them. Unless they were deliberately provoked, Cerian could see no
way that Israel could come out of a war looking good, if they came
out at all.
Why XCOM was here he still wasn't sure, but he suspected they
wanted to know the same thing he did. He'd spotted the two XCOM
agents, whom he suspected were Abby and Ruth, respectively,
entering the village. Luckily, he'd moved his own people in it well
before they'd arrived and they were reporting to him now.
" They're still in that house," Olivia reported through his earpiece.
"Can confirm they haven't exited."
The new armor was also very interesting, and concerning. He had no
doubt that it was the result of the applying the alien metals they'd
been receiving from XCOM. While impressive, it made their army
suddenly the most advanced in the world, beyond the United States,
Russia and China, something he'd never thought he'd actually see.
If this was just their armor, he wondered what other tech they'd
developed.
" They're leaving," Ren interrupted his thoughts. "Looks like they
have disguises now, those new Israeli armor suits."
"Follow, but do not engage," Cerian ordered. "I want to know who
they were talking to."
Cerian wasn't sure there actually was anyone in that house. But if
there was he had plans. The winds blew over him for a few minutes
as he waited.
" New contact coming out," Baston suddenly updated. "An Israeli
soldier. He'd probably a mole."
Cerian trained his rifle on the edge of the village. "Proceed with the
plan."
Ren and Baston would drive him out using distractions, letting
themselves be seen and letting him chase after them. Even if he was
a mole, he'd still act the part of the soldier and that included running
after suspicious people. He wouldn't call it in either since that might
raise questions as to what he was doing.
Worst case scenario he didn't fall for it and they left with no one the
wiser. Best case they captured him.
" Heads up, Cerian," Ren informed after a few minutes, his voice
tight. "Target approaching."
A figure in the Israeli armor came charging outside the perimeter, his
weapon raised. He looked more confused than anything, but it was
enough for Cerian. "Target in sight," he informed calmly. "Move in."
With that he fired a shot from his silenced sniper rifle. The bullet hit a
weak spot by the knee, forcing him to fall to the ground. A second
shot through his right arm rendered it useless and he dropped the
weapon. A final shot through the opposite arm severely restricted his
ability to fight back.
Ren and Bastion appeared, leaped on and pinned the man to the
ground. Ren ripped off his helmet and placed a towel drenched in
Tracrium over his nose and the man was out within a minute,
thrashing weakly as Ren and Baston held him down. Their mission
one, Ren hauled him onto his back and they began trotting over to
his position.
" Cerian, both XCOM agents have entered the central command
building," Olivia updated. "Instructions?"
"Woo!" Akello cheered as they boarded the skyranger. "You did it!"
"Yes!" Akello clapped her hands together. "So, give me the drive.
Let's see what they've been doing."
Abby and Ruth exchanged a long look. "Uh, Ruth…" Abby began
tentatively. "You did grab the drive right?"
Ruth's eyes widened. "No… I thought you did. You had it, right?"
Abby made a show of reaching into her pockets. "Uh… oh no. There
might be a problem…"
Abby looked at Akello who had a look of pure terror and dismay.
"You… you did not…" she stammered, unable to form a complete
sentence.
Abby and Ruth exchanged another look and burst out laughing. "You
should have seen your face," she said in between laughs. "I really
should have taken a picture."
"Agreed," Ruth chuckled. "Come now, did you really think we would
leave that drive behind?" Abby tossed the drive to her.
"I hate both of you so much," Akello muttered, flushing red. "For the
record, I knew you were joking the whole time."
"Sure you did," Abby teased as she went to sit down. Ruth took a
seat by Akello who was already typing furiously after she inserted the
drive into her computer.
The skyranger ramp closed and Abby felt them lift off. "Well…" Akello
began after a few minutes. "Good and bad news here."
"We got all their files," Akello confirmed. "Bad news is I can't tell
what's in them."
"It's all in Hebrew," Akello shrugged. "So it can be translated, but it'll
take much longer."
Ruth motioned for the laptop. "Give it to me, let's see what I can
find."
Akello surrendered her laptop and Ruth began scrolling through the
long list of files. Abby closed her eyes and leaned back, wondering
how long it'd take for her to fall asleep. "That armor doesn't look
bad," Akello noted. "The Israelis did well."
"I suppose it's better than what's used today," Abby admitted. "But it's
nowhere near XCOM levels."
Akello shrugged. "If you say so. I never wore any myself."
They rode in silence for a while, Abby was almost asleep when she
heard Ruth whistle. "My, my, Prime Minister. You really aren't
messing around."
Ruth looked up, incredulity in her voice. "I just stumbled on a very
interesting document. Considering how accurate this is, and it
appears completely genuine, it describes exactly the plans Israel has
for the Middle East."
"Short version is that all big operation names are usually overly
dramatic and symbolic," Ruth explained. "The guy who always came
up with the operations names back when I was with the Kidon was
really into that, not to mention he was extremely organized. Level
four is the highest rank he used, so I looked at that folder first. Not
too many options then."
Abby frowned. "I am assuming that they are not referring to the
holiday?"
"Oh, he most certainly will be." Ruth agreed as she returned to her
laptop.
Abby rested her head back, thoughts blazing through her mind.
Advent .
She wasn't sure why, but that word had an ominous feeling towards
it now. She'd never thought of the word in any specific context,
positive or negative, but now could really only prescribe one word
towards how she felt about it now.
Foreboding .
Should something horrible happen, she had the feeling Advent was
going to be in the middle of it.
Unknown location
Annette was rattled awake as she felt the plane descending rapidly.
She gritted her teeth as the shaking worsened, realizing just how
much worse it was from regular commercial flights. A few minutes
later she felt a hard bump and realized to her relief that they'd finally
touched down.
She relaxed and laid on the hard metal inside the crate. She was still
hungry, cold and drained. But she wasn't as exhausted as she had
been. So now it was time to figure out how she was going to get out
of this place. Running for it was a distinct possibility… unless they'd
landed on an island or barge of some kind.
There were… thirteen? Probably more and she couldn't sense them.
Few enough that she could probably escape unnoticed if she waited
for the right moment. But waiting was going to be difficult. Not to
mention she didn't know if they'd be looking her way or not, and she
wasn't sure if she could reliably control their minds.
An indefinite amount of time passed before she felt two people
coming closer, as well as hearing a loud door open. Now she could
hear the two men actually talking, the language foreign to her. It
sounded like Chinese, but she didn't know for sure. Her box began
moving and now she was close enough to the person pushing it to
hear more coherent sentences.
XCOM again. She still didn't know who they were, but if they were
enemies of EXALT, it might be a good idea to try and find them.
Because she probably couldn't trust anyone else in the government,
or military for that matter. Not worth taking the risk of them catching
her again.
Her crate had stopped a few minutes ago and she didn't feel anyone
near her. She took a breath. It was now or never. She pushed up and
pulled herself out of the crate and tumbled onto the ground. It was
early morning, so it wasn't that bright out yet. Still the first thing she
noticed was, to her relief, that it didn't seem to be an island, and
definitely wasn't a barge.
But what gave her hope was that she could see city lights in the
distance, above the trees that surrounded this airstrip. She heaved a
sigh of relief. Now-
He was Asian, but if he was a native here, she couldn't tell. " Down!"
She whispered, echoing and emphasizing that sentiment in her
mind. She realized she'd likely lose control once her adrenaline
faded. His irises shimmed a faint purple, a reflection of her control,
but it wasn't direct like when she'd taken control of the EXALT guard
at her cell. He would simply follow whatever orders she wanted.
Great. What was she going to do? She couldn't just let him go, and
even if she incapacitated him, he'd wake up and tell them she was
here. She really only had two options: Kill him or let him go.
She could certainly kill him, either with his gun or her knife… but she
didn't really want to do that again. Yet killing him was the only
chance she'd have of escaping unnoticed. Whereas by just knocking
him out, she'd essentially be letting them know she was here.
A distraction, that was best, yes. " Listen," she ordered. " Take your
gun, walk out in front of the warehouse and shoot yourself in the
head." The man nodded blankly, and without comment, walked past
her and kept going.
Now was the moment of truth. She relinquished her control and
prayed he'd follow through on her order. He kept walking and she
breathed a sigh of relief. When he shot himself and everyone went
running… then she'd make her escape. The man stopped in front of
the warehouse and put the gun to his head, which caused some of
the nearby guards to yell something at him.
Too late.
The gun went off with a bang, and she felt the ripples of shock,
surprise and alarm ripple through everyone nearby. Her smile turned
to a grimace as a wave of exhaustion washed over her, causing her
to double over. Taking several quick breaths, she quickly glanced
right, then left, and seeing no one, took off into the trees before the
city.
No one shouted after her and no bullets whizzed past her, so she
just kept going.
And going.
And going.
Just a bit farther, she told herself, it can't be that far now.
It all became a blur, and before she knew it she was collapsing in
some alleyway corner, unable to stop it as exhaustion swept over
her. At least she'd made it into the city.
She hugged her knees to her chest as she tried to think of what to do
now.
Right. First order of business was to get food, since she felt
ravenous. There had to be some kind of fast food place around here,
even if it wasn't a western country. Of course, that highlighted
another problem she had.
Which was going to pose a slight problem. So the actual first order of
business was going to be to find some money, and there was really
only one way she could see that would get her what she needed
fast. Theft. Problem was she didn't have the dexterity or subtlety of a
pickpocket and would likely be caught.
Except… she really didn't need to. All she really had to do was go up
to someone and use her powers to have them hand whatever money
they had over. They'd figure it out later, but by then she'd hopefully
be long gone. She grimaced, it was one thing to force people to do
things against their will when her life had been at stake, not to
mention those EXALT guards had deserved it. But it felt wrong to
use them on ordinary people who'd done nothing wrong except run
into her.
Well, at the very least she could limit the damage. She stood, trying
to ignore the hunger and as she dusted herself off, realized she had
another potential issue, namely her dirtied white clothes. Even had
they not been EXALT-make, they still stood out and looked
exceptionally odd, like she'd escaped from a hospital or some mental
institute. Which technically, wasn't far off, but she didn't want people
to know that yet.
So, money, clothes and food. Annette nodded to herself. Not exactly
a firm plan, but it was the best she had at the moment. She started
walking down the street, keeping an eye out for suspicious people.
She didn't fail to notice the billboards, fliers and graffiti all written in
Chinese. Or was it Japanese? Whatever, it seemed she was in Asia
somewhere, which was going to complicate things further if she had
to deal with language barriers.
She walked for what felt like hours before she finally ran into some
people on the street, all were Asians, so she figured her hypothesis
was correct. Luckily they didn't seem to mind her too much, only
nodding in her direction, if they noticed her at all. She could sense
their minds, but was too distracted to focus or hear what they were
thinking.
A while later she felt she was definitely getting further into the town.
Small cars drove through the dilapidated streets, and a decent
amount of people roamed the sidewalks. She wasn't out of the
questionable part of town yet, but at least she was in the moderately
populated part of it.
Annette finally stopped, and glanced around the area, trying to see if
there was any place she could go. Her eyes lit up as she saw what
looked like some kind of clothing store. Well, that was on her list and
she might as well get out of these clothes now. Quickly dashing
across the street, she opened the door and entered the small shop.
An older Asian lady was seated at the checkout desk, but the rows of
clothes in front of her confirmed that this was what she was looking
for. She stood there for a few seconds, trying to see where she
should start. A much younger woman walked up, likely no older than
her. "Hello," she said, her accent clearly pronounced. "You need
help?"
"Uh, no, no," Annette denied, shaking her head. "I'm fine." Ignoring
the woman, she went over and began rummaging through the racks.
Something neutral, something that wouldn't attract attention was
what she would like. Fashion was something she'd never been that
into, and now she wondered if an interest would have helped now.
It wasn't pure white, it had a grayish tint, but would contrast well with
her jacket. At the very least she would look completely normal. All
her clothing sorted, she headed over to the changing room and
quickly dressed in her new garments.
Annette had pulled off all the tags, so she might have been able to
pass these as her own had someone noticed her leaving. The
problem was that the worker had noticed her entering, when she was
wearing a much different set of clothing. So… best case scenario,
Annette left when she wasn't looking.
Problem was that it was a small store and there hadn't been anyone
else when she'd entered. Annette sighed, when all else failed she
might as well march out with confidence. The worst that could
happen was that she was stopped and then had to use her powers
to leave.
She opened the changing room door and peeked out. Luckily the
worker was speaking with some new customer and Annette saw her
chance and began walking towards the door in a roundabout way,
occasionally glancing towards the woman. She reached the door and
exited as quickly as she could, breaking into a light jog once she was
out.
Once she was a couple blocks down, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Alright, one thing done. She felt bad about stealing from them, but
she'd had no choice. But she couldn't focus on that now. Next order
of business was to get money.
She hesitated before pulling up the hood of her jacket. There was a
risk she would draw more attention to herself now, since hooded
people were generally regarded with more suspicion. But she had
several things going for her, namely that she was a white woman,
and as a general rule, women weren't treated with nearly as much
suspicion as men.
The advantage to this was that it would be a better way of hiding her
face for the moment, and then she realized that because she was a
woman, it opened up a new set of problems. The most likely of which
was being regarded as an easy target for robbery or rape, which was
highly likely in this part of town. While she could likely handle
whoever came her way, that wasn't something she wanted to deal
with now.
She sighed. Worry about that later, now she needed to find some
money.
Japan, Somewhere
Annette stood in front of a map written completely in Japanese. At
least she assumed it was Japanese, because while she couldn't
read anything on it, she had figured out she was somewhere in
Japan. Apparently this city was not a very hot tourist attraction either,
else there'd be some kind of English guide.
Well, she was in a normal part of the city now, or at the very least,
the supposedly non-dangerous part. Annette shivered, it was dark
now and she really needed to find somewhere to eat and sleep.
She'd considered how best to get some money, and figured the best
way was just to get it over with.
The man across the street talking on his phone seemed well off, and
likely wouldn't miss a small amount of money. Still, she had to be
subtle about it, at least a little bit. Seeing no one around him, she
casually strolled over. Fixing the location in her mind, she closed her
eyes and focused on sensing him.
She took a breath. Calm . Focused . Time to see if she could just
mentally suggest something. Drop your wallet on the ground and
walk away. It wasn't a full order, just a small suggestion she hoped
would slip through and plant itself in his mind.
She let go and opened her eyes to see the man walking away. Heart
pounding, she walked over to where he'd been standing and looked
down. A brown wallet was laying on the concrete, just as she'd
suggested. Moving quickly, she knelt down and swept it up into her
hand and immediately began walking the opposite direction.
"Sorry," she muttered to the man as she began going through it. Four
credit cards, an ID of some kind, and what she felt was a decent
amount of cash. She had no clue how much this was actually worth,
but it must be enough to buy a meal. After that she could make a
call.
Japan, Somewhere
This odd mishmash of a bar and restaurant was a little odd, but
Annette didn't care that much. She really didn't know what she'd
really ordered either, but it was delicious. Some kind of seafood, she
thought, but didn't really feel the need to confirm. Though she was
wondering if she was drawing too much attention to herself since
she'd already ordered three full meals and was still hungry for more.
Nah, she could find somewhere to sleep tonight and have another
meal tomorrow. But she was rejuvenated enough to begin
formulating a solider plan. It wouldn't be too long before that man
realized he'd lost his wallet, so he'd probably cancel all his cards,
preventing her from using them. Luckily she'd thought ahead and
used the cards to buy the meals and saved the cash.
She would have withdrawn money, but had realized she didn't know
the pin numbers for the cards, which would prevent that. Not to
mention she had no idea where banks or ATMs would be. As it stood
now, she'd ditch the wallet after tonight, then find someone else and
get the pin number along with the cards. Next she'd buy a ticket
directly to France and plan from there.
First she'd call Latrell after finishing her meal here. Her boyfriend
would be able to help with this, and his house would be a place to
stay while she hid from EXALT. They had to know she'd escaped
now, and would be looking for her. The only thing she was worried
about with contacting him was that he wouldn't believe her… which
she couldn't entirely blame him for. Her story would sound insane to
essentially every rational person, regardless of its truth.
The most important thing she had to stress was secrecy. She'd been
gone… it had to be months now. Everyone probably thought she was
dead, and for the moment, it had to stay that way. Latrell's father was
high up in the French police, so if he knew she was alive, there was
a good chance he wouldn't keep it to himself, and EXALT agents
would figure out where she was.
She pulled out one of the bills for a tip. She wasn't sure of the exact
dollars to yen conversion, but figured that ten thousand of anything
was a lot. Standing, she walked over to the bar, wanting to get one
last drink to go. After she ordered, the TV playing the Japanese
equivalent of news caught her attention.
"About time the Chinese wrap this charade up," the man beside her
muttered. She looked over at him in surprise. He was definitely not
Asian, as his white skin clearly showed, but he was actually pretty
old. There were wrinkles on his face, but he didn't seem to lack much
energy. He still had a full head of graying hair so… American,
perhaps?
"What charade?" She asked casually, resting her arms on the bar.
He glanced over at her. "Oh, you know, the whole dispute over the
alien dreadnaught-ship-thing. I'm surprised it took them this long
really."
It was all she could do not to drop her jaw. As it was she couldn't
help but blink in shock. Alien dreadnought. Did he actually mean…
"Uh, yeah," she muttered tonelessly. "Surprising."
She perked up. XCOM . So… if they were known enough to the
public that this guy could mention them casually, then was EXALT
the same way? Now all those random snippets she'd heard when
she was captured made sense. Contrary to what she'd thought, they
actually were talking about aliens from space.
She took a deep breath. Alright, new objective. Find out exactly what
had been happening since she'd been captured. Unfortunate she
hadn't taken that guy's phone, a few searches on the internet could
clear this up, and she didn't want to exactly tell this guy that she had
no clue what he was talking about.
"I don't think I've seen you around," the man commented, snapping
her out of her thoughts. "You new here?"
He almost smirked at that, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Ah,
a tourist then. Not many come through here."
"It's on the way," Annette answered, hoping he'd stop pressing. "Not
really much to this."
"Still," he mused, looking right at her. "It's nice to see some new
faces."
She was getting the impression that he was being a little too pointed
in his questioning. As he looked back to the TV she focused on the
minds closest to her and pressed hard against the nearest.
"Your drink?"
She left to use the card and Annette got up to go. She had no use for
it anymore and had three more anyway. Someone suddenly grabbed
her arms and she jerked around to see the old man looking at her
intently. "You do have a place to spend the night, don't you?" He
asked, very politely.
He let go of her arm and she glared at him. "That's not your
concern."
It could have just been friendly advice… but given how the past few
months of her life had gone, she wasn't exactly that trusting of
random strangers offering suggestions, while slyly insinuating that
they knew details they shouldn't have known about.
She shook her head. No. Worst case she'd sleep on the streets
again, but first she needed to make a phone call. Luckily she spotted
a pay-phone booth across the street. It was something of a miracle
that these things hadn't been disposed of, what with everyone
having their own phones now.
She closed the door in the booth behind her, and looked at the
phone stand. This one had been upgraded to take credit cards and
cash, so she had options if the man had cancelled his cards. She
slid one of the cards and began dialing. She prayed that his number
was still the same, or that no one else answered.
She heard a click and his deep voice greeted her. "[This is Officer
Latrell, who is this?]"
" [Uh, yeah, yeah,]" he answered, flustered. "[It's just… you're alive!]"
He started laughing in disbelief at that, which she joined in. It was so
great to finally hear his voice again.
"[Yes, I'm alive,]" she repeated. "[But I have to be careful. Are you
alone?]"
" [Experimented on?]" His answered, his tone torn between worry
and anger. "[What-]"
" [Alright, no, just stay put,]" Latrell stated. "[I'll take some people and
come to you. You'll be protected-]"
"[No!]" She gasped, since she knew he would actually do it. "[Listen
to me, you can't tell anyone I'm alive. They have people everywhere
. I probably shouldn't have called you to begin with, but you needed
to know I was alive.]"
" [How?]"
"[No,]" she agreed. "[I'm not.]" She sighed. "[Look, it'll make sense
when I get back to France and explain everything. But remember,
you can't tell anyone . Not my parents, not my friends and definitely
not the police.]"
She thought. "[I don't think we should say here. They might find this
call, and we'd be walking into a trap. I'll call you once I'm there. You
can come pick me up.]"
" [If they're actually listening, they now know I'm helping you,]" Latrell
pointed out, and she winced. "[Lucky that I'll be watching for any
tampering. At least tell me who kidnapped you, please? Or do you
not know?]"
"[They're called EXALT,]" she answered. "[But I don't know what they
are or what they do.]"
"[Be careful,]" she warned worriedly. "[These people will kill you if
you dig too deep!]"
" [They should have thought of that before taking you,]" he stated
coldly. "[This won't be the first corrupt organization I've busted.]"
" [Then I'll see you soon,]" he answered quietly. "[Love you,
Annette.]"
She smiled, it'd been so long since she'd heard that. "[Love you too,
see you soon.]" With that she hung up the phone and leaned back
against the booth door.
She hadn't realized just how relieved she was now that someone
else knew she was alive. Now all she had to do was get on a plane
to France, make another call, then both of them could figure out how
best to take EXALT down.
She drunk the juice that was in her hand, opened the booth door and
began walking down the street, blocking out the additional voices as
she tried to think. Tossing the bottle in the trash, she began focusing
on her next task. Right, now to find someplace to sleep and-
Someone grabbed her arms and flung her violently to the left into a
dark alley where she rolled onto the hard concrete. Blinking she
looked up at two young Asian men, both dressed in ripped street
cloths and pointing pistols at her.
She suddenly laughed. Of course this would happen now, when she
needed it the least. These two were as dangerous to her as wild
animals. Both of them looked at each other and the left one jabbed
his pistol at her. "You. American. Put wallet on ground now."
She stood and her amusement faded with each passing second. The
smart thing to do would be just give them the wallet. It was going to
be useless soon anyway, and she could just find some other person
to steal from. Money was all these thugs wanted, and they'd leave
her alone afterwards, probably.
But she was sick of being pushed around. Sick of being forced to act
against her will. But she didn't have to give in here. "[I'm not
American, you idiot,]" she taunted in French, which he clearly didn't
understand.
She felt the anger building inside her, and the power was already
within her grasp.
All she had to do was let it out. But it wasn't fair not to give them a
chance to walk away. She shook her head and chuckled. "Listen…
I've had a really long day. I'm tired, angry and frustrated. Please
don't push me any farther."
Both of them started laughing, though it did fade after a few seconds
as they must have picked up something in her voice that indicated
she was serious. The left one raised his pistol and aimed it at her
head. "Last chance, girl."
Enough.
She thrust out her hand and sent a light wave of energy towards
them, calling on more power as she took a step forward. They
stumbled back, their eyes wide and faces suddenly contorted in
surprise.
Her skin split open again as she gathered the energy into her palm.
Her vision tinted violet and a cocoon of purple mist and energy
gathered around her. But she didn't want to just keep throwing the
kid around until she cracked his head. No, she wanted it localized.
Controlled.
She twisted her wrist, directing the energy to manifest right on the
thug scrambling to raise his gun. He was suddenly engulfed in
swirling purple bands of energy, not doing anything yet, but ready at
her command.
She cocked her head as he looked around in terror. Too late for him.
She squeezed her fist.
The area around his body was now slick with blood, and she stood
there, cocooned in energy, hand extended to the body that was
being ripped apart. But it finally stopped moving, even as the energy
continued ravaging what little remained. She pursed her lips as she
looked at the corpse. No point continuing, her job was done.
She opened her fist and released her hold on the energy and it
instantly dissipated. Now, to deal with the other one. In her rage she
realized that he'd completely slipped her mind and was somewhat
surprised he hadn't tried shooting her.
She swung her head around to see him stumbling back, hands
raised and expression terrified. She cocked her head and began
walking over to him. "I surrender! I surrender!" He pleaded frantically.
"Please don't kill me!"
She pursed her lips. No. Maybe not yet, perhaps she could get
something out of him. She slowly let the power fade, until her vision
was normal and the sounds of the world returned fully to her.
"Answer my questions and I might let you live."
She walked over and gingerly picked up the pistol he'd discarded.
"Where am I?" She demanded, pacing in front of him. "What city is
this?"
"Not many come down here," he explained, his eyes darting towards
the gun in her hand. "Almost all just stay in the nicer inner city,"
It made sense. A larger city was both good and bad for her. Good in
that she would probably be able to find everything she needed, such
as an airport or bank. The size would also help if EXALT somehow
tracked her here. It was also bad because there would likely be
EXALT operatives just on regular business.
"How do I get to the airport?" Annette demanded, eyeing him for any
sudden moves. She really didn't have to bother, she could sense he
was too terrified to try anything.
"Follow the sidewalks for a couple miles that way," he pointed up the
street. "You'll eventually see one of the buses. Just tell them to take
you to the airport and they'll do it. I don't know the exact location."
She gritted her teeth. More running, great. "Take out your wallet,"
she ordered. "Toss it here."
With shaking hands, he tossed it over to her which hit the concrete
by her feet. "There. Will you let me go?"
She considered that. Despite what she'd done to his friend, this was
a little different than self-defense. She didn't want to kill him,
especially since he'd surrendered to her. Not unless he was actively
threatening her life. But the fact was that he was too much of a risk
to let go.
He could clearly see the conflict on her face. "I won't tell anyone!" He
insisted frantically, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "I promise! I
won't tell anyone ."
She focused in on him. At least to her… she couldn't fully read his
emotions, but he practically screamed terror. She didn't know how
well that equated to truth, but it was an excellent incentive. "You say
that now," she said aloud, not directly to him. "But when I leave?
When your terror fades and you believe I can't find you? Perhaps
you'll have a change of heart."
It wasn't just that possibility that worried her. She was leaving
evidence here, evidence EXALT could find. Someone was going to
find this body, and she didn't have the knowledge, time or resources
to dispose of it properly. But the sheer manner of death was going to
raise questions, and EXALT might likely link it to her.
Once the body was ID'd, then they would try and find all his
associates. People who might know what happened. This man had
no idea who EXALT was, he had no idea what they'd do to him. Even
if he was telling the truth, there was no way he wouldn't say
something to them. He knew he was headed to an airport, he'd given
her his wallet and EXALT might be able to track purchases if they
found out she had it.
She shook her head, the man unable to speak as she retained
control over his mind. "I can't take that risk," her voice hardened. "I
also can't trust people who try to kill me."
She forced him to place the gun under his throat and had him pull
the trigger. The bang seemed unnaturally loud, and the thud the
corpse made as it hit the ground was the same. She looked over his
body as his blood began leaking onto the ground.
Annette shivered and knelt down and picked up the wallet. Mostly
cash, but one credit card. Hopefully it would be enough for a plane
ticket, as well as bus fees. Sticking it in her pocket, she stood back
up and looked around. The streets were still abandoned, but it was
only a matter of time before someone came this way.
She looked at the mutilated corpse she'd torn apart. She could only
hope that no one decided to report it until much later. But now she
was on a clock. EXALT would be looking for any odd reports, and a
shredded corpse along with a man who committed suicide right next
to him would probably qualify as odd .
She pulled up her hood and began walking up the street, her
exhaustion burned away by the adrenaline. She couldn't wait any
longer, no way could she risk sleeping now. Once she was on a
plane she could do so, but that wasn't an option now.
While she walked, Annette thought about how to best move now. Ok,
technology was going to be her greatest enemy here. Once they
even knew her general area, they could just look up security footage,
and from there find out her flight, destination or more. It wasn't a
matter of if she would be tracked, it was a matter of when .
Flights to France would be long, and might give them time to set up
people to intercept her. So to avoid that… short trips were best. She
could leave and go to another airport and repeat as long as she
needed. It wasn't perfect, but at least EXALT would have a little more
trouble pinning her down.
Which was why it was imperative she get out of Japan as soon as
possible, because if there was a reliable time she could be caught, it
would be now. Once she got anywhere else, they'd have a much
harder time. China was probably best, the sheer population would
help hide her.
Her head snapped up and she groaned as she realized yet another
problem. She didn't have a passport, which was somewhat essential
in traveling to different countries. And unlike stealing credit cards
from random strangers, she couldn't just take someone's passport
because they would check for it.
Which meant she'd have to use her abilities, something she wasn't
sure would actually work. But she had little choice here. If she was
going to leave, she need to use everything at her disposal.
After walking and running for what felt like hours she finally saw a
bus stop, with a bus waiting. With a surge of adrenaline, she charged
toward it, waving for the driver to wait. She saw him sigh, but he did
wait and she boarded clumsily, but soon righted herself.
"3000 yen," the driver asked, holding out his hand. She looked in her
wallet and found the right amount.
"Here," she said as she handed it to him. "I need to get to the airport,
can you let me know when that stop is?"
Even if it was his job, she couldn't wait for him to go to every stop.
Time was of the essence. All it would take was a little suggestion
planted in his mind. Get the girl to the airport, don't stop for anything.
She'll pay you extra if you get her there fast.
She released her hold and looked over as the bus driver looked
around wearily, blinking in confusion. "We're… here, miss," he said,
not seeming to believe it himself. "Airport is right ahead."
She stood and walked over to him. "Thanks for getting me there
fast," she said sincerely, as she pressed a large amount of cash in
his hand. "I won't forget it."
"Same to you," she nodded as she exited the bus. The bustling
airport was before her, hundreds of people going in and out. Annette
took a breath, well, time to do this. Hopefully EXALT hadn't found her
trail quite yet.
Saudia stood over the two corpses of the guards, trying to piece
together exactly what had happened. Two analysts were taking data
from the bodies, causes of death, and other details that would be
important in determining exactly what had happened. Her chief
scientist and Ethan stood behind her, waiting for her to speak.
These weren't the only casualties either, two more soldiers had been
found dead up by the hanger, which indicated that Subject Four had
likely left on the cargo plane yesterday.
Overall, she was not happy to put it lightly. Bad enough they'd given
one of the Furies to the aliens, but now their most powerful subject
had managed to escape. Which should have been impossible.
Saudia had an idea of how this had happened, but wanted to see
what her chief scientist had to say. She turned around and fixed him
with a hard stare. "You've had time to look, doctor. I don't suppose
you could explain how Subject Four not only managed to escape a
cell you assured me was inescapable, killed her guards and
managed to sneak out without any notice?"
"You didn't think to account for that ahead of time?" Ethan demanded
incredulously.
"We still don't know the full extent of psionic abilities," he defended.
"Mind control was a potential possibility, but we couldn't prove it. It
was all theoretical!"
That being said, she would not be so lenient if this happened again.
"Let me be clear," she stated, addressing him. "This will not happen
again. Take whatever precautions you feel are necessary. Because
of your negligence, four soldiers are dead. Do not fail again."
He scurried off and she walked the opposite direction, Ethan beside
her. "You let him off too easy," Ethan muttered. "Why?"
Ethan pursed his lips, but didn't contest her. "Your call, Director."
They stepped into the elevator and she pressed the button to the top
floor. "We need to focus on reclaiming Subject Four now, before the
aliens orXCOM find her."
"She was clever, I'll give her that," Ethan commented, a grudging
complimentin his voice. "She took out the cameras, snuck up to the
hanger without being seen and stowed away. She'd clearly been
planning this for a while."
"Do we know where that plane was headed?" Saudia asked as the
elevator arrived.
"Yes and no," Ethan countered. "We just have to be careful about
how we approach her. If we can track odd instances like this,
eventually she'll slip up and we'll be able to track where she's
heading."
"Has she left the country?" Saudia demanded, thinking hard. It was
going to be a lot more difficult if they couldn't prevent her leaving.
"We don't need to," Saudia said. "We can access the security
cameras, then run her face through them. She's no spy and will be
seen somewhere . I'll contact Mercado and let him know the
situation."
"We might want to look ahead," Ethan suggested. "If she does
manage to leave, where would she go?"
Saudia nodded, seeing where he was going. "To people she trusts.
Her family perhaps,"
"Not to mention she can control minds," Saudia said. "That's going to
make it easy for her to get out of any issues with the airports or
police."
"Not indefinitely," Ethan corrected. "We may not know the full extent
of her powers, but she can't use them I think our best bet is to start
watching her friends and family."
"You don't have to tell me twice," Ethan nodded. "We'll bring her
back soon."
If there was one element of XCOM that Herman could find absolutely
no fault with, it was without a doubt the food. Whatever faults the
Commander had, he had to commend him for actually getting an
actual cook. Sure, it wasn't the best food he'd ever had in his life, but
compared to traditional military food, it was excellent.
The atmosphere also felt more somber, and Herman suddenly got
the distinct impression that he's accidentally stumbled into an
unofficial memorial ceremony. His eyes scanned the tables and he
blinked as he saw Van Doorn sitting alone, a cup filled with a dark
liquid inside it.
Abandoning his current plan for dinner, he walked over to where Van
Doorn was sitting. The General noticed him approaching and nodded
in greeting. "Hey," he said neutrally as Herman sat down beside him.
"How are you doing?"
Herman raised an eyebrow and indicated the drink with his eyes. "I
think I should really ask you that."
He could understand that. "I know," Herman agreed. "But that's just
one of the realities of being in command. We can't always be on the
front lines."
"Yeah, I get that," Van Doorn muttered. "I guess I just don't have a
very high opinion of that strategy at the moment, even if I do
understand its importance."
Herman nodded and decided to let that subject drop. It was neither
the time nor place to have this debate, especially since Van Doorn
wasn't thinking as objectively and both of them knew it. "So what
happened?" He asked.
Van Doorn took a sip. "We detected a UFO, a large one. As usual,
we prepared to send out a skyranger and this time sent Myra along
as well. We all thought that would be enough to storm the UFO, or at
best would be overkill," he sighed.
"But no, the aliens were prepared for us and had a small army
waiting. The squad was eventually overwhelmed by sheer numbers,
and once Friendly died, the squad overseer made the wise decision
to pull out. They made it and killed a bunch of aliens, but some were
injured and the MEC was severely damaged."
From what he knew, been told, and figured out for himself, XCOM
was primarily designed as a strike force, dealing a lethal amount of
damage over a short period of time against small groups. Perfect for
the smaller UFO's and even larger ones if XCOM could dictated the
engagements.
But their greatest weaknesses was that they were not an army. They
couldn't hold out in sustained battles, because once the aliens held
against the initial engagement, they could call for reinforcements and
overwhelm XCOM. As the defeat to EXALT had showed, it didn't
matter how advanced they were, their limited numbers would always
work against them.
Now against an enemy that was as, or more advanced, than them? It
would almost never turn out in XCOM's favor. Now that the aliens
knew for sure they could exploit that weakness, he could only see
similar missions in the future unless XCOM began the transition for a
strike force into… well, an army was not feasible, but at least
invested in equipment and tech that would allow them to survive
prolonged engagements.
The MEC was an excellent step towards this, but even that wouldn't
save XCOM if they were faced with overwhelming odds, as the
previous mission had clearly shown. He felt he should say
something, but it, simply put, wasn't his place, and he wasn't sure
how the Commander would take actual military suggestion. It might
be better if it came from Van Doorn.
"Do you mind if I make a suggestion?" He asked. " Not as a
representative, but as someone with military experience?"
"Right," Herman cleared his throat. "I think that this highlights a
weakness within XCOM. Your squads aren't designed for prolonged
combat, but instead engagements with only a few enemies that are
eliminated quickly. In these instances, XCOM succeeds with flying
colors, but if the aliens or EXALT manage to survive the initial attack,
then they just call for reinforcements and quickly overwhelm XCOM."
Van Doorn appraised him with surprise. "You've thought about this."
"I just looked at the footage," Herman shrugged. "In every instance
XCOM has been forced to retreat, they've always been
outnumbered, outgunned and the engagements were usually longer
than usual."
"You make a good point," Van Doorn nodded. "So do you have a
solution?"
Herman hesitated. "I'm not sure what the Commander is planning for
XCOM, but if he wants to turn it into an army against the aliens, he
needs to invest in tech for longer battles. Portable turrets, deployable
cover, vehicles, equipment that would make up for the soldier deficit.
Which should also be fixed; more soldiers are going to be needed if
XCOM ever wants to stand on even ground with the larger alien
forces, because I don't think they're going to forget about this."
"Hmm," Van Doorn took another sip. "I agree. The MEC is a
formidable force, but it can only do so much. But we are looking to
increase the soldiers deployed, along with some other advances that
level the playing field. You should really talk to the Commander
about this."
"It would probably be better coming from you," Herman shook his
head. "I doubt the Commander would want me to be making
suggestions like these, and he would be right, it's not my place."
"Nonsense," Van Doorn snorted in disbelief. "He might not like why
you're here, but if you have a legitimate suggestion for him, he will
take it into consideration. This one you have now is definitely that."
"Perhaps," Van Doorn conceded. "But I am not taking credit for your
idea. Do you have some idea for what we could do?"
Van Doorn gave a grim smile. "Good. If you want, I'd like you to work
with Engineering to see if you could begin implementing them. If you
want that, of course."
Now Van Doorn gave a genuine smile. "Don't mention it. If this will
help keep our soldiers safe and kill more aliens, I'm happy to support
it."
Not only would it keep the Council happy, but it was the right thing to
do. They had a right to be up to speed on all the latest
developments, and this was a situation that warranted some kind of
presence. Luckily Patrick had responded quickly and had arrived a
short while ago and now stood beside him.
Cerian smirked and motioned for Mary to hand him a tablet. "Please,
Patrick. I'm a professional," he said as he tapped the screen. "I can
assure you I wouldn't have taken him prisoner if I wasn't absolutely
sure." Once he'd found the images he needed, he handed the tablet
to Patrick.
"I would imagine they will demand an explanation for this," Patrick
answered, his voice deliberately neutral, which his expressionless
face reflected well. "How they go about it, I don't know."
Which was exactly what he was afraid of. "May I offer a suggestion?"
He asked.
Patrick cocked his head. "You were the one who got us this, I will
convey any suggestion to the Council."
"Exactly," Cerian agreed. "We now know that Israel is preparing for
something, and whatever it is, XCOM is concerned about it. Which
the Commander may actually use if this evidence is brought before
him, and a reason why the Council should refrain from using this
against him now."
"XCOM," Cerian repeated. "If you present this evidence to Israel with
the intention of breaking their alliance, it will likely work, but the result
is that you remove the only chance for XCOM to talk Israel out of
doing something catastrophic."
"So what you're saying is that we shouldn't use this." Patrick stated.
Patrick let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The
Council is not going to like that."
"No," Cerian agreed. "They won't. But I would suggest that you keep
this and include in your final case against the Commander."
"In addition to all those points you mention, you failed to discount
others within the Council itself," Patrick added grimly. "This might
also have the effect of splitting the Council permanently, since the
pro-Commander bloc will use this as evidence of the Commander
thinking about the safety of the world by keeping tabs on Israel."
"And since Israel isn't exactly popular with the UN, it might sway the
moderates over to that side," Cerian finished.
Patrick looked back over into the room. "Yes, I suppose that is the
silver lining. So I assume you have a plan for him?"
"I'll see if I can entice him with the threat of turning him over to the
Israelis," Cerian said, eyeing the man. "Failing that, I might just
resort to reason. Sadly, I doubt we'll get much out of him. Agents like
him are stubborn."
"Well, I guess we should get this over with," Patrick sighed and
reached for the door.
"Wait," Cerian interrupted. "I want to speak to him before you go in.
I'd prefer he not know the Council is involved yet."
Patrick stepped back and motioned towards the door. "You're the
expert here. I'll watch and record."
Cerian opened the door and stepped into the small room. Eldad was
securely tied to the chair, his eyes closed, though Cerian doubted he
was actually asleep. Sure enough, once he sat down across from
him, Eldad opened his eyes and glared at him suspiciously.
"If that was the case you should have just killed me," Eldad stated
calmly. "You know the standard speech. I'm not telling you anything."
"Right, and since we both know the standard response I'll get right to
the point," Cerian answered, lacing his fingers together and placing
his arms on the table. "We have photo evidence of you meeting with
confirmed XCOM operatives for reasons unknown. Should IDF
command acquire these, I'd imagine your punishment wouldn't be
pleasant. That is in addition to charging you with espionage against
a sovereign country. At the very least you're looking at life in prison."
Cerian paused. "Or you could cooperate with us, answer a few
simple questions and we can work from there."
Eldad eyed him suspiciously. "Is that right? You are aware that
evidence can be doctored, correct? You cannot prove intent,
regardless of whatever 'evidence' you have."
"We followed these agents to the Israeli central command, and while
we don't know what they took, if anything, I doubt that the IDF would
like knowing that XCOM now likely knows what they are doing."
Cerian looked Eldad in the eye. "So go ahead and tell me that you
would not be prosecuted if you were turned over to Israel."
Eldad was silent for a few moments, then pursed his lips. "They
might, but I suppose all I could do is wait to see what their verdict is."
"You see, that would imply that I am affiliated with them," Eldad
pointed out. "I can certainly speculate, but it would be the thoughts of
an unimportant soldier."
"You were there," Eldad noted, the corners of his lips twitching. "A
technologically advanced Israel might be a cause for concern for
some parties, especially those concerned with global stability."
"I can see that very much so," Cerian nodded. "So, as a soldier in
the IDF, do you know what they are planning?"
"Who are you?" Eldad interrupted. "I'd at least like to know that
much."
Eldad snorted. "Right. I don't know where you got this information,
but from what little I know, the Commander of XCOM is not the
problem. You're after the wrong guy, not that I'd know much about
that, of course."
Cerian smiled. "It might help explain my position some. You are
aware of the so-called "Commander" from the War on Terror, yes?"
"You heard me," Cerian said. "And if you want proof, then I'll
introduce you to someone you may or may not know." He went to the
door and opened it, gesturing Patrick inside. Eldad's mouth parted
slightly once he saw the United Nations Liaison walk into the room.
He knew who this was alright.
"Despite what you were likely told, there are reasons for certain
councilors to be worried about XCOM," Cerian continued as he sat
down again. "For obvious reasons, his identity had to be kept secret,
but that is the major reason why we are keeping an eye on XCOM."
Eldad finally seemed to compose himself. "And you think this will get
me to admit to something? Telling me that the man in charge of
everything is the one who won the War on Terror? Is that supposed
to compel me to say something? Because I can tell you that Israel
has a much more favorable opinion on the Commander than the rest
of the world,"
Well, that was what he'd been afraid of. The Commander's identity
was going to be less impactful than he or the Council had hoped.
True, Eldad was Israeli, and that might have colored him before
working with XCOM, but he suspected that the soldiers might not
care as much either because he was admittedly working to destroy
the aliens.
With that he turned and exited the room, Patrick behind him. Once
the door was closed Patrick let out a long sigh. "Well, that was a
waste of time."
"Well, we don't have any more XCOM incidents," Patrick agreed. "I
suppose you and your team should pack for the States. Transport
will be prepared."
Armenia, Yerevan
It had taken Bradford and Van Doorn some time to actually set up
meetings with Armenia and Ukraine, but they'd done it and now he
was finally going to confirm their alliance with XCOM. Escorted by
four Armenian soldiers, the Commander walked towards the
Government House, though entering through a means other than
through the front door.
Still, he would prefer few knew about it until it was confirmed one
way or another. In the meantime, he was enjoying his short stroll
through the city itself. The Commander hadn't really known what to
expect for Yerevan, but it was unquestionably much larger and
industrialized than he'd expected.
They reached a door in the side of the Government House and one
of the soldiers opened it up and motioned him inside. The hallway
the greeted him wasn't that unusual for state buildings, glossy
marble floors, high ceilings and overly ornate furniture dotted the
hallway. Chandeliers hung down from the ceiling, casting a soft white
light everywhere.
"This way," one of the soldiers told him, motioning down the left. The
Commander nodded and began walking that way. Their boots
clacked on the floor, sounding unnaturally loud as they proceeded.
He wasn't sure if the emptiness was normal or if it had been cleared
out ahead of time. He wouldn't be that surprised either way.
It was definitely not the Kremlin. It was certainly not the official office
of the President, since that would likely contain some additional
furniture as well as a few details such as paraphernalia or
bookshelves. As it was now, the walls were bare though painted a
neutral brown. The room was well maintained and lit, but surprisingly
empty, with only a large table with several chairs in the room.
"That it is," Arsen agreed, with a slight smile. "It might not compare to
the cities in the United States, but I am glad you appreciate it for
what it is."
Arwen gave a short nod at that. "I tend to think so, but neither of us
are here today to discuss my country's history."
"I did," Arsen confirmed slowly. "I must admit, I was surprised to
receive the call in the first place. Armenia is a great country, but I am
under no illusions as to its importance on the global stage. To hear
from the Commander of XCOM himself was surprising, especially
since there are other, larger, nations who could also help you."
"Correct," Arsen nodded. "But perhaps you can explain how this
pertains to me and my country?"
Arsen looked away, resting his chin on his hand, clearly thinking
hard. "I'm flattered," he finally said after a few minutes. "But perhaps
you overestimate our capabilities if you would think we can serve as
an effective check on the major powers of the world. Russia in
particular might feel threatened."
The Commander gave a small smile, since the exact opposite would
be true. "You will have nothing to fear from another country, because
this alliance isn't just an exchange of resources and money. Should
another country decide to step in, you will receive military support
from XCOM."
"The United Nations does not have the personnel, funding, motive or
cohesion to function as it's supposed to," the Commander stated.
"They are a toothless entity, which should ultimately concern neither
of us."
"I agree," Arsen nodded, now openly smiling. "I think this alliance will
be beneficial for both of us."
Ukraine
At the moment, he felt no need to. Israel had done it and he wasn't
concerned the Ukrainians were going to abduct or kill him.
Realistically, they were likely paranoid and secretive, especially
when it involved the Commander of the XCOM project. If he had to
guess a location, he suspected they were within, or outside
Ukraine's capital, Kiev.
At least the long ride did give him some time to reflect. The meeting
with Armenia had gone better than he could have hoped, they would
fully support XCOM in a number of ways, which would also help cut
back on maintenance costs, allowing funds to be diverted elsewhere.
President Arsen had also promised to send Armenia's very best
scientists and engineers to XCOM, which both Vahlen and Shen
would be thrilled by.
Well, he'd done his part and had gained a very useful ally in the
process. Now it was up to Russia to actually work… however they
decided. Once Ukraine was on board as well, that would be enough
for Russia to work with. One more country would be better, but this
was enough to get them started.
The past week or so in XCOM hadn't exactly been quiet either, well,
aside from the alien abduction, but it was a smaller encounter,
without much alien presence to begin with. Shen and his team were
hard at work and Shen had assured him that they'd have some
major developments in the next day or so.
But aside from the abduction, the aliens had been rather quiet as
predicted. But the Commander knew it was only a matter of time
before they struck again, or EXALT for that matter. EXALT had also
been suspiciously quiet, but Zhang told him it was expected. They
were likely trying to focus on stopping XCOM Intelligence for the
moment.
Well, actually, EXALT hadn't been completely quiet. Soon after the
Israeli op, one of Zhang's people had suddenly disappeared. Since
the Israelis clearly didn't know where he was, the only other
possibilities were EXALT or the aliens, with the former being the
most likely suspect.
Zhang has assured him that EXALT wouldn't get anything from him,
but was very… irritated at the loss of such a useful informant. Not
angry, since it was a reality of intelligence work, but it was extremely
inconvenient. Though the Commander did find it a bit odd that he'd
been taken right after uncovering some of the most damning
documents in recent memory.
And boy, what interesting reading that had been. Pretty much all of
Zhang's team had spent the past week translating the Israeli
documents. Advent . How symbolic and fitting. He had to give
Nowinski credit, the man had ambition and a plan, and should events
go his way, he would take full advantage.
The car stopped abruptly and the Commander looked toward the
door. About time. He blinked as the door opened and bright sunlight
poured into the car. Pushing himself off the seat, he stepped out onto
the worn pavement. Once his eyes adjusted a few seconds later, he
was somewhat surprised to see he wasn't anywhere near a city.
The patch covering up the empty socket didn't quite hide the scars
around it. The Commander knew he'd formerly been a soldier, and
then turned towards politics after losing his eye in an IED explosion.
From the profile he'd been given, he'd developed some respect for
him, even if he wasn't as familiar with his policies.
But politics weren't the sole reason for his visit, and he was glad to
have a military conversation with someone experience.
"Commander," Damian greeted, opting to salute instead of shake his
hand, which he was somewhat surprised by. "A pleasure to meet
you."
The Commander returned the salute with his own. "You as well, Mr.
President."
"Drop the titles for the moment," Damian shook his head with a grim
smile. "As far as I'm concerned, we're of equal rank, you maybe
more so."
"Don't mention it," Damian waved off. "I will admit I was skeptical
when your Central Officer contacted us, but I was glad to see it was
genuine."
"We're familiar with the species," the Commander told him. "I could
send you our notes."
"Appreciated, but that's not why I bring this up," Damian answered
with an appreciative nod. "We don't have the facilities or equipment
to house aliens, and unless I demand funds from parliament for alien
holding facilities, that won't happen for some time. In the meantime,
there will likely soon be an incident where someone gets killed. You
have the means to hold these aliens, I do not."
"A worthy goal," the Commander agreed. "But this is only the
beginning. The aliens won't hide behind doppelgangers forever, and
when the time comes you'll need to be ready to defend your country.
XCOM cannot be everywhere, much as I wish it were otherwise."
"Well, that is why you're supplying us with alien tech, yes?" Damian
noted wryly. "I will ensure XCOM receives sufficient funding and
soldiers in return, along with any aliens we capture."
"A fair deal," the Commander agreed. "We'll need to finalize some
details, but otherwise I believe that covers everything important."
"For now," the Commander responded evenly. "But the world will
change after this war, and when the lesser known nations emerge as
the vanguards of humanity, they will be forced to acknowledge it."
The Commander descended down the ramp into the mostly empty
hanger, feeling pretty good about where they stood. Armenia and
Ukraine were firmly allied with them, and Russia could begin working
through them to acquire alien tech, further increasing their unofficial
alliance.
"Very much so," the Commander agreed as they both walked out of
the hanger. "Both countries will make good allies, and Russia will
have the openings they need. Anything happened here?"
Bradford pursed his lips and the Commander immediately had a bad
feeling. "We do have a situation," Bradford answered slowly. "A video
was recently released showing XCOM soldiers executing civilians."
"About four hours," Bradford answered. "It hit social media first, and
within a few hours the news outlets were picking it up, though since it
usually takes around six hours for something like this to get reported
everywhere, we suspect that this was sent directly to the media
itself."
The doors to Mission Control hissed open and they stepped into a
whirlwind of activity. Screens with various news outlets dominated
the visible area, the massive hologlobe was various shades of
orange and yellow and analysts and technicians were scurrying
around, talking frantically with each other.
"Going to get worse the longer we're silent," she answered grimly.
"Commander, this is Gav Cumar, social analyst for XCOM."
"The general public fortunately has a very short attention span," Gav
answered quickly. "Should this story be killed within the next few
hours, it will likely fade from people's minds after a few weeks until
the next crisis begins. But I must stress that this cannot get repeated
coverage if we want panic levels to stabilize."
Jackson snorted. "This is just way too much of a coincidence that all
of them found out about it and had statements prepared so fast."
The Commander was inclined to agree. Maybe a few would jump on
it this fast, but if it was as many as Gav was saying… either EXALT
has also sent them this video themselves, or they were EXALT
members themselves. "Do we have names?"
"Excellent work," the Commander handed the list back to her after
taking a cursory look. "Bradford, let's see this video."
" So what do we do, sir?" Another fake XCOM soldier asked, as she
twitched in place.
" We either leave them to get captured by the aliens, or we kill them,"
the leader stated grimly. "We have no alternative."
He watched as they shot burning beams of light into their head and
within a few seconds all were dead, their faces frozen in terror and
pain as the fake XCOM soldiers stood over their corpses. "Good
work," the leader said. "Let's get out of here."
"Which makes it difficult for us," Jackson sighed. "So, ideas on how
to best counter this?"
"Now how best to use it," Gav said, looking thoughtfully at the
screen, then back to the Commander. "A statement combined with
video evidence would definitely be enough to stop this in its tracks.
However, that would mean you'd have to release some video to the
public."
"Look at the date this allegedly took place," the Commander pointed
out, nodding towards the screen. "Bradford, did any missions take
place that day?"
He turned on his heel and began walking to his office. Time to draft
up something suitably condemning for this attempt to tarnish
XCOM's name. EXALT was going to wish they hadn't played that
card, because he had a pretty good idea how he was going to
respond.
That was something to sort out later, since this took priority for the
moment. But he suspected that XCOM would put it to rest, since he
could already tell that the HUD used wasn't identical to the actual
XCOM HUD, which pretty much every soldier could attest to. He
suspected the Commander knew this already and was anticipating
this valiant attempt at demonizing XCOM to fade within a week or so.
But they were civilians, and weren't exactly familiar with usage of
propaganda or counterintelligence. But what he did find inexcusable
were the actual elected leaders who were already jumping on this to
capitalize on the new public outrage. That was how you got on a list,
and Soran suspected that every single government official
denouncing XCOM was now on now.
This threw a wrench into his plan to speak with the Commander, but
he figured he might as well go in anyway, in the event that the
Commander somehow hadn't noticed that the HUD was different.
Soran put down his tablet. "It's fake. What more needs to be said?"
Samuel rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we know it's fake, obviously. But
every idiot commentator is getting the most out of this and destroying
our image at the same time!"
"I imagine it'll be cleared up in a few hours," Soran said, shrugging. "I
wouldn't go into full panic mode yet."
Samuel seemed to calm down some and let out a sigh. "I really hope
so, but the more likely scenario is that everyone is going to
conveniently forget they acted like idiots and move on before they
get criticized."
"Yeah, that's how it usually is," Samuel said bitterly. "They denounce
us until they realize they need us. Cops, military, XCOM, it'll never go
away."
Samuel gave him a wan smile. "Yeah, that doesn't really work to well
in the military. You might hate the guy in charge, but he's still your
boss and as I've learned from experience, sometimes actually knows
what he's doing."
"You can still dislike someone and respect them," Soran pointed out.
"But that's for you to sort out." He stood up. "In the meantime, I might
as well make sure the Commander is aware that the video can be
proven to be fake."
"He didn't have a problem last time," Soran reminded him. "And as
long as I come with a good reason, I think this time will be no
different."
"Well, tell him I said hello," Samuel said jokingly and walked away.
Soran shook his head, amused by that for some reason. By now
he'd memorized the Citadel, so he knew the quickest way to the
Commander's office. There were several XCOM personnel
wandering through the hallways, and it did remind him of an
interesting fact that no one really acknowledged.
The Commander was seated as he'd been the last time he'd shown
up, looking at a computer screen to his right. As Soran walked up, he
turned his attention to him, greeting him with a nod. Soran saluted
and the Commander motioned for him to sit down, all the while
appraising him… almost cautiously.
"Soran," he said, placing his hands on the table. "What can I do for
you?"
His lips curled into a humorless smile. "Oh yes I did. We've just sent
a little package to the media containing sufficient evidence to refute
what that video showed."
That was actually a faster response time than Soran had anticipated.
He was genuinely impressed with that, but was careful not to show it
on his face. "Well, then I guess my primary reason for coming is
unneeded."
"The HUD on the video was different," Soran answered. "True, you
likely already knew that but in the event you hadn't noticed, better
safe than sorry."
Well, that was good. Then he could move onto the actual reason he
wanted to speak to the Commander. "I'm glad to hear it. Though
there was also another matter I wanted to bring to your attention."
"Yes," Soran just decided to get to the heart of it. "From speaking
with her, she's told me her job primarily involved operations against
the Triad, and she had a high… distaste for them, to put it lightly. I'm
unfamiliar with Zhang, but if he was part of the Triad, then Shun
might have an issue with that. As far as I know, she is unaware he is
even part of XCOM, but if she knew I doubt she'd take it rationally."
The Commander pursed his lips. "I see. That will have to be resolved
before she finds out on her own. Thank you for telling me this, you
might have averted a diplomatic incident."
Now for his own curiosity. "What are you going to do?"
"Tell her," the Commander stated simply. "We can't afford secrets like
this right now, and if Shun has an issue sharing a base with a former
Triad member, then she's welcome to go back to China. But she
doesn't strike me as unreasonable, so she might be convinced to
overcome her understandable prejudice."
Huh. That was not the answer he'd really expected. It seemed very…
reasonable . Oddly reasonable, in fact. Well then, that certainly
answered that question and raised several new questions for him.
"Glad to hear it," he finally said. "I'll let you get back to work now,
Commander."
With that Soran walked out the room, very curious now as to how
Shun would react when told one of her lifetime enemies was under
the same roof. It would likely be entertaining, but he was certain he'd
hear about the aftermath, one way or another.
Research and Engineering V
Research and Engineering V
"With that we'll have covered over half of Europe." Van Doorn
finished his update as he directed their attention to the screen that
showed the latest areas with satellite coverage. "We'll have to make
more satellites if we want to continue."
"Knowing Russia, likely only the bare minimum," Van Doorn said,
looking over at Bradford. "They don't invest in something unless it is
going to benefit them. If I had to guess, they likely started investing
in the bordering countries soon after, or right before, they made their
offer to the Commander."
"I'm just glad our forces are back up to an acceptable level," Van
Doorn commented, his features relaxing in relief. "The latest batch of
soldiers was desperately needed."
He still wasn't sure if the Chinese had intentionally sent her intending
her to end up discovering that her mortal enemy was actually in
XCOM and then cause trouble, or if it was just an honest mistake
that the Chinese had forgotten to mention that detail in her profile.
He pursed his lips at the thought. There was so much wrong with
that statement, that he wasn't really sure why he'd thought in the first
place. He didn't trust the Chinese for a multitude of reasons, but they
were not that careless or incompetent.
"And I get the feeling that there's something else to add," the
Commander guessed, just from the serious look on Bradford's face.
"What is it?"
"I'll ask the Speaker about that whenever they decide to call," the
Commander said, frowning. "I'm somewhat surprised they haven't
yet."
"Not to mention that it will likely come to light that quite a few
governments knew already," Van Doorn added. "That could cause
problems."
"That isn't a bad idea," Van Doorn said, his lips twitching. "But this
could be a potential opportunity for us. We could shape the public
image of XCOM more positively if we take the lead on this before the
speculation becomes rampant."
The Commander raised an eyebrow. "And you have something in
mind."
"We find a news station you trust for the most part," Van Doorn
explained. "Then hold a press conference and take a few questions
from the public. As XCOM becomes better known, it's only a matter
of time before this is needed. I know public relations isn't really
your… priority… but we can use this."
"I assume you would do this?" The Commander asked. "I doubt that
finding out that a subordinate to the Commander was in charge of
XCOM would calm people."
"I would be the best choice," Van Doorn agreed. "I have a good
reputation and we can use that. It'll make the public more trustful of
us, to say the least."
"I think it's a good idea," Bradford agreed. "We guide the narrative
and make the public less suspicious of us."
Van Doorn nodded. "Clearly. I'll begin setting that up. I doubt we'll
have much trouble finding a willing network."
The Commander turned away from the screen and to the holotable.
"Alright, moving on. Anything else new in the world?"
"I know that," the Commander answered. "I suppose you brought
that up for a reason?"
"Pretty much," Bradford sighed. "Though I'd personally say he's the
embodiment of everything wrong with the US political system. His
obvious weaknesses combined with the alien invasion have
essentially ensured that the Republicans are going to breeze through
unless the candidate they select is an absolute moron."
Ah, right. The former Admiral, the last time the Commander checked
the candidates, he'd seemed the best choice out of all of them. From
a purely military viewpoint, he was really the only valid choice.
Policy-wise, things got a little more questionable. But at this point, a
stronger military was the better option, and Jonas was likely going to
provide that the best.
"He was," Bradford nodded. "But he's recently falling due to the
rapidly rising Kamili Rono."
Van Doorn brightened. "Ah, that's good to hear."
"Because people like her," Van Doorn explained with a shrug. "She's
done excellent humanitarian work, not to mention is the embodiment
of an American success story. It also helps that she's not marred by
the scandals most politicians deal with, founded or no."
Van Doorn snorted. "I highly doubt she'll let that interfere with the
alien invasion. She's not an unreasonable person from what I've
seen."
"We'll see," the Commander said, letting the matter drop for now.
"We've got a long way until the election, though."
"She did handle that admirably," Van Doorn agreed slowly. "If not for
her they'd likely still be in the process of charging him. Forcing a
military trial was bold, and definitely didn't play well with the
Republican leadership."
"But if you're asking for a party affiliation, I don't have one," the
Commander continued. "I was always an independent. Sometimes I
voted Republican, other times Democrat, whoever I felt would lead
the country best, which did admittedly swing more Republican for
me," a smile came to his lips as he remembered something. "Though
one year both candidates were so bad that I just wrote in the name
of my immediate superior. He probably would have done a better job
than both candidates put together."
"And I just watch your government and sigh," Van Doorn chuckled. "I
hope the Netherlands never gets to this point. Though it is
entertaining in a sad way. I think that's why I'm hoping Kamili wins.
She's a cure to all the corruption there."
"Well, then I'd argue that we should promote those that actually
aren't corrupt," Van Doorn argued. "Idealism isn't always naïve.
Change only comes when people start working towards it and not
accepting the status quo."
Well, he didn't put much stock in idealism anymore. The world didn't
work that way and he saw no reason to give himself much hope that
one uncorrupted woman was somehow going to change America.
But he knew he was a cynic, Van Doorn was not. "I hope you're
right," he finally said.
Bradford shook his head. "Nothing worth noting that affects us."
"Good to know," the Commander nodded. "Thanks Bradford. Van
Doorn, anything to add or does that cover everything?"
He returned the salute and Van Doorn exited the room. The
Commander rested on the table for a moment. "Well, now I suppose
I'll check in with Zhang, Shen and Vahlen."
The Commander was now fairly certain what he was referring too,
but wanted to be sure. "Make what official?"
Bradford chuckled. "Come on, you and Vahlen. What? Did you think
we're all blind?"
"Well not a concern, " Bradford clarified. "But I don't know why
you've put if off. You both like each other, clearly, so I'm not sure
what's stopping you."
That was a subject he was not going to discuss with Bradford. "It's
complicated."
Shen was the one he'd initially wanted to give them to, but since he
didn't see him around, decided to take this opportunity and look
around to see what XCOM Engineering was doing.
He could be wrong, but it seemed that it was busier than the last
time he's decided to walk through. There must have been at least
twenty or thirty people wandering around, operating machines or
poring over various weapons, gadgets or alien tech. He was hesitant
to interrupt them, since they seemed intently focused on their tasks.
He frowned as something caught his eye. He blinked to make sure
he wasn't seeing things. Was that a dog ? A German Shepherd, if he
was seeing things correctly. One of the engineers was putting some
kind of armor on it, while another woman stood close by. Well, this
he had to see.
The woman who he assumed was the owner of the dog noticed him
coming up and nodded in greeting. Up close, he was surprised by
how good the armor actually looked on the dog, it didn't look
particularly thick, but it covered the body and legs fully, it was jointed
as well, offering even more protection.
" "!ְל ַׂש ֵח קShe called and the dog got up and started running around
the area, easily avoiding the few engineers moving through. She
actually seemed to like it, judging from when she returned she began
nuzzling her owner's hand with her armored snout.
"I didn't think I'd see that here," Herman commented, inclining his
head towards the young engineer. "Impressive."
"So do I," the woman agreed. "I'll have to put her through some
exercises, but you did well. Thank you, Miss Shen."
Shen . Well that was interesting. Herman looked at her with new
interest, he wasn't aware that Shen had a daughter, let alone that
she was here and working. The woman and her dog walked away,
and she turned to him. "I don't think we've met, have we?"
Herman smiled and shook his head. "I don't believe so. Herman
Diederick," he extended a hand which she took enthusiastically.
"Lily Shen," she answered, confirming that she was the daughter of
Shen. "So, what do you need here?"
"Actually, I was looking for your father," Herman told her. "You know
where he is?"
She bit her lip and looked up. "Hmm, not at the moment, but I can
find him. What are you going to show him?"
He didn't see any reason not to tell her, it wasn't like the Commander
had instructed him to keep these classified. "Just some ideas that I
think could be used to keep our soldiers alive."
"But visual aids are nice," Lily added absentmindedly. "I really
appreciate that. Anyway, this is much simpler than that armor," she
stuck the end of her pen in her mouth as she thought, then
brightened. "Yes! We can take the main design of the autolaser and
modify it to include collapsible stands. Or just be able to be attached
easily." She nodded and continued drawing.
"I didn't intend for you to do all this yourself," Herman interrupted. "I
don't want to interrupt whatever you're doing."
"Oh, don't worry about that," she answered cheerily. "I'm not
technically part of the team. I'm just doing odd projects, here and
there. Like these, for instance."
"Why not?" She looked over curiously. "I'll have to let my father
know, but I don't think he'll have a problem with it. I know how most
of this stuff works."
She gave him a wide smile. "Excellent! I do want to work with you on
this though, since these are your ideas. I can tell you how feasible
they are or not."
"I'll look through these others," she said, standing up straight and
walking down the workbench further. "But before that, I want you to
test something for me." She picked up an odd-looking weapon and
handed it to him.
Herman motioned toward the target range set up. "Well, let's see."
Both of them walked in front of the range, and Herman raised the
weapon at the target. "Wait!" Lily interrupted as she dashed to a
corner and he lowered the weapon. "There needs to be something
better," she rummaged through the pile of targets and sheets and
finally emerged holding a sheet of metal. After setting it up on the
target, she jogged back over to Herman's side. "Right! Try it now."
Herman nodded and raised the weapon once more. The recoil
forced him to step back as those two curved pieces of metal shot up
and downwards as the bolt shot out of the barrel. After regaining his
footing, he saw the bolt had torn clean through the sheet of metal
and paper target and had embedded itself in the far wall.
"Fine by me," he nodded, ready to get to it. "You told your father
about this?"
"Not this one," she admitted. "I want to upgrade it before showing
him."
"Probably," Lily nodded happily. "He's the reason I'm being allowed
to work here at all. I'll try and show it to him as well."
"Not quite," Zhang clarified. "But all of this seemed less of an actual
attempt at slander and more like a test. Our greatest evidence of this
being a fake is that the HUD is wrong. Normally I'd chalk that up to
incomplete information, but the fact is that there was a video of
XCOM soldier already released."
Zhang fixed his with the blankest look possible, conveying just how
stupid he thought that was. "Not unless they are completely
incompetent at their jobs, and from our own experience, EXALT is
not incompetent."
The Commander nodded, he'd had the same thought, but Zhang
would have known for sure. "Then I suppose the question is why
they chose to ignore obvious details like that."
"So I suppose they'd like to know how well we'd respond," the
Commander guessed as he thought about it some more. "A clever
way to actually test our capabilities. They now know that information
with no downside to them."
"That's what I'm working with," Zhang confirmed with a nod. "But it
tells me I'm dealing with a competent intelligence director. Which
means I can more accurately predict how they will respond."
"We take them," Zhang stated coldly. "Question them for information,
confessions would be released to draw more attention to EXALT.
More importantly, the media arm of EXALT would be severely
hampered."
"Go ahead with your test," the Commander allowed. "Now, we need
actual content for these videos."
"I assume you have some ideas?" Zhang asked, crossing his arms.
"The records linking Solaris Industries to an EXALT shell company
are the solidest," the Commander began. "But I don't want to release
those until we've confirmed for ourselves. No, we need something
for people to be outraged over. Fortunately, Vahlen has provided us
with the perfect opportunity."
Zhang nodded for him to continue. "We have footage of the genetic
experiments," the Commander continued. "Regardless of their
necessity, I doubt it can be argued that they would be considered
horrific."
Zhang cracked a smile. "Should they somehow get released with the
name EXALT attached to them…"
"That will expose the name to the public," the Commander finished.
"The debate over the validity of the footage will be useful, but it will
propel EXALT out of anonymity."
"When she does terminate them, tell her to preserve the bodies,"
Zhang stated, a glint in his eye. "I image this would make a greater
impact if this was found on the body of one of the victims."
"Much harder to dismiss the footage too," the Commander nodded, a
smile crossing his face. "It'll be interesting to see the EXALT react to
this."
"Perhaps have some EXALT soldiers talk about their alliance with
the aliens," Zhang mused. "EXALT are not the only ones who can
fabricate footage."
"That will have to wait until the media plants are sorted out," Zhang
answered. "But I will have a team working in the United States.
Solaris Industries is a secondary objective for now."
Unfortunate the rest of the world hadn't taken notice yet, because
when North Korea was making reasonable statements, perhaps it
was time for reevaluation. "Oddly reasonable of him," he commented
to Zhang.
The Commander took the tablet and immediately saw what Zhang
was talking about. The two soldiers standing behind the Supreme
Leader as he spoke were not typical North Korean soldier. They
wore black armor that seemed loosely based on XCOM's own armor,
though not quite as thick.
The shoulder pads were larger than was necessary, and the red
paint that covered them was clearly for decoration. Lines of red paint
also colored their blackened armor, and the North Korean emblem
was stamped clearly on their upper right chest. But what caught his
eye was the odd helmet they wore.
It was oddly angular, and completely covered the face from the eyes
up. In the middle of that was a red light line that was likely the way
the soldiers saw outside. The lower portion of the helmet was
similarly armored, and the portion in the middle was covered with
what he assumed was a darkened plastic.
The whole outfit was completely ceremonial, capped off by the red
shoulder cape that fell from their right shoulders. It was projecting an
image or authority and power the Commander hadn't seen from
North Korea in years. The lighting of the stage where the Supreme
Leader spoke was such that the soldiers were in shadow, the red
light from their helmets glowing ominously.
"I guess they took some cues from us on the armor," the
Commander muttered. "But the only major power that I can think of
that used colors, lighting and paraphernalia like this were the Nazis
and Soviet Union. A bold move."
Zhang's lips twitched. "Let's hope so. But aside from that, nothing
worth reporting."
Soran raised his pistol and after focusing on the outsider dummy,
nodded and Samuel who stood beside him with his own rifle raised.
At that affirmation both of them began firing, lighting up the range
with red laser.
The smell of charred cardboard, plastic and foam filled the air, and
Soran just filtered that out, methodically shooting a small bursts of
light into the heads on the targets.
"True, true," Samuel admitted, chuckling. "I guess you made your
point. You're a lot more accurate with a pistol than I am."
The man smiled at that. "Well, you're not a sniper, but you're pretty
damn close."
"Question," Shun asked, crossing her arms. "When exactly are you
using these sniping skills? Radical terrorism is down, especially in
the Middle East, and Israel isn't involved in any wars. So what do
you do?"
They all laughed at that, even Shun. It seemed the Chinese didn't
exactly have a high opinion of the UN either after Soran had talked
with her a bit about it. They didn't really have a strong opinion one
way or another. As Shun explained it, they saw the UN as a possible
tool that could be used against smaller nations, but which posed no
threat to them.
"I wonder if the aliens ever went through this?" Samuel wondered
out loud. "It'd be interesting to know if their history played out
similarly."
"Hmm," Shun seemed to think for a minute. "I mean, I don't think we
can really make assumptions. I'm more interested if all these species
we've seen all come from the same planet."
"Unlikely," Mordecai dismissed, shaking his head. "The chances of
this many species with sentience all developing on the same planet,
at the same time, would be astronomically small."
"I would also think that if they shared a world with the chryssalids,
they'd be wiped out," Soran added, pleasantly surprised they were
actually having a conversation about this. "It makes more sense that
this is a coalition of various alien species."
"Then comes the big question," Samuel pointed out. "Which species
is in charge?"
"Yeah, but then why are they taking part in missions?" Mordecai
questioned, raising an eyebrow. "I might buy that if we'd only
encountered them on ships, or the ones encased in those suits. But
we've seen them on lowly abduction missions. Why would they take
part if they were in charge? They clearly don't lack numbers."
"I've wondered that," Soran nodded. "But who could manage to keep
the sectoids subservient? Shun has a point that their psionics are
dangerous, and every sectoid has them."
"A species that is even more powerful?" Samuel suggested. "I mean,
that's the only explanation, right?"
"Pretty much," Shun agreed. "Well, unless one of those thin men
talk, we're likely not going to find out anytime soon."
"What do you think they look like?" Samuel asked. "When they're not
impersonating us?"
"Yeah, but we know nothing about them," Shun added, pursing her
lips. "Of course we can't know how they think. But if we ever learned
more about them, I don't see why some of us wouldn't understand
their thought process, even if it seems backwards to our own."
"Maybe we can debate that after we wipe them out," Samuel
suggested. "As much as I'm interested in the aliens, I'm more
interested in kicking them off our planet."
Soran and Shun exchanged a look, and she clearly thought the
same as him. Even if the ultimate goal of XCOM was to drive the
aliens away, if not wipe them out completely, he didn't see a reason
not to at least learn about their motivations, culture and outlook. He
supposed he was an outlier here, since it seemed the vast majority
of XCOM soldiers weren't interested in learning about the aliens,
only killing them.
Which he supposed made sense, many of them had lost friends and
family, so it made sense. He supposed he could count himself lucky
he didn't fall into that category. Interesting that Shun seemed to have
some interest, even if she didn't feel like pressing it further.
All the engineers were hard at work as the Commander walked into
the Engineering Bay looking for Shen. He suspected that he'd be in
the Cybernetics Lab, so he began making his way through the
machinery and engineers towards the entrance.
"Commander!"
He turned to see Lily rushing over to him with an excited grin on her
face. It was nice to see someone happy in the situation they were in.
"Lily, how are you doing?"
She pointed down the Engineering Bay and the Commander saw
Shen standing by a table displaying what looked like new weapons.
Well, that was promising. "He said to watch for you," Lily continued.
"He's got some things to show."
"I see that," the Commander nodded, glancing down at her. "Thank
you, Lily."
He spread out his arm, indicating the table. "And as it turns out, it is
very viable."
That sounded good. Very good. "Explain it," the Commander
prompted. "Gauss technology is essentially using magnets to propel
projectiles, right?"
It wasn't the most elegant explanation, but that was basically what
the Commander had gotten from his own research into Gaussian
tech. Shen winced as he spoke. "That… is a very, uh, crude way of
putting it. But mostly correct. Thanks to Gauss tech and formulas, we
can use magnets to propel bullets at a speed that was once thought
impossible."
"I assume that it's better at penetrating the alien armor than our
previous ballistic weapons?" The Commander asked as he walked
over to the table, running his hand over the sleek weapons.
It was without a doubt the solidest weapon he'd ever wielded by far.
No part of the weapon felt unbalanced and it felt like a refined, solid
weapon that would stand under the harshest combat conditions. The
pinnacle of ballistic technology.
Shen had set up three sheets of alien alloys, with aliens outlined in
black, a sectoid, thin man and outsider. What he found interesting
was that each sheet seemed to be a slightly different color, from a
dull silver to a dark gray. The alloys also seemed to get thicker as
they progressed.
The Commander lowered the weapon and looked at him. "And that
is?"
"Thanks to the wide variety of alien equipment we've recovered,
we've been able to determine that there are various types of alien
alloys, not all just one metal as we've been using for so long," Shen
explained, nodding towards the sheets of metal. "Like we have
different metals used for different purposes, the aliens utilize the
same for their alloys. We've been able to split the alien alloys into
three categories: light, medium and heavy. If we discover more
variants exist, we will add to them."
Prepared more now, he let off a burst of Gauss powered rounds, and
with each shot taken, was liking the weapon more and more. As it
stood now, this was one of the best weapons he'd used in terms of
sheer power and design. Shen hadn't exaggerated the weapons
capabilities, where he'd fired, he could clearly see holes in the alloy
sheet.
Solid . That was what defined this weapon, in more ways than one.
From its performance to the design, power and capabilities, it was at
least as useful as the laser variant, if not more so.
Shen seemed pleased, judging from the smile on his face. "I
appreciated it, Commander. My team worked hard on it, though
perhaps you should try the others before declaring this one your
favorite."
The Commander grinned and walked back to the table and picked
up the sniper rifle, immediately noting that the same word applied to
this weapon as well: Solid. Had this been any other sniper rifle, the
barrel would have been too heavy, but it all balanced out with the
rest of the weapon itself. There was no wasted or unnecessary
weight. It was heavier overall, but it didn't seem to interfere with his
ability to aim and shoot.
He did look up briefly at the target, which now had a clean hole
through it. "How did you manage no recoil?" He demanded in
amazement to Shen.
Two rounds. Hmm, that wasn't ideal, but the weapon was essentially
perfect otherwise, so he could overlook that issue. "Can it be
increased, eventually?"
After firing it several times at the light alloy sheet, he concluded that
it wasn't a dramatic improvement, except in terms of power. The
Gauss rounds had pierced the sheet, but the Commander knew that
it wouldn't be as powerful as a rifle or sniper rifle. But any pistol that
could pierce a sheet of alien metal was one he was satisfied with.
Now for the final weapon, the Gauss equivalent of the SAW. The
design was almost the same, but the Commander grunted as he
picked it up. It was much heavier than he remembered, but chalked it
up to these weapons being heavier because of the Gauss tech. He
swung the weapon towards the far right sheet and fired.
That was definitely the most powerful weapon he'd wielded today,
and there were going to be several soldiers looking to use it. "Well,"
he said, turning to Shen. "I'd say you've done your job well. Excellent
work."
A balance would be good, and now they had a reliable counter to the
alien's heavier units. "Well, anything else?" The Commander asked,
turning to Shen.
"It's called the Goliath for a reason," Shen pointed out, amused. "The
pilot will be encased in the middle of this MEC, more like an actual
pilot and not as simple as suiting up. It's possible, just… difficult. I've
taken the transport issue into account. It will work with our current
MEC transport, but it'll have to be the only one."
"I think practical and useful," Shen answered, pulling out a final
blueprint. "Which is what inspired this last design. Remember when
Van Doorn told us Herman's breakdown of our military
weaknesses?"
The Commander remembered all right. He'd been initially skeptical,
but Herman had made several very good points and was now
working on several of his own ideas to solve them. Not something he
would have considered initially, but the Representative was actually
proving be useful here, and for that the Commander was grateful.
"That's what I got out of it," Shen pointed at the blueprint. "This is
something that could help."
The blueprints for this MEC made it seem the bulkiest of them all.
There were several rocket launchers attached to the arms, micro-
missile launchers on the shoulders and most obvious, a massive
cannon attached to the back reminiscent of one very recognizable
piece of military hardware. "Artillery," the Commander noted,
impressed. "I like it."
"The Ballista-class MEC is designed for it," Shen confirmed. "All the
designs will need to be refined, but those are the plans. There is one
issue, though."
That was an issue that Commander had been thinking about, and
he'd come to the same conclusion. He didn't want soldiers sacrificing
their limbs and potentially, minds, just because he asked them too.
But then he was left with the knowledge that he had technology that
could change the war that was sitting dormant. They needed more
MEC pilots.
Shen rested his chin on his hand thoughtfully. "They would need to
be told the risks… but… I suppose that would be acceptable. But I'm
growing concerned that the process that turns them into pilots won't
be able to be fixed. Myra is stable… for now, but I'd hesitate to call
her content or normal."
"She knew the risks," the Commander reminded him. "And so will
any new pilots. Does this sound like a plan?"
The Commander nodded gravely. "That's what we all hope for. Hard
decisions are needed and they do change us, but that is what's
needed when faced with our extinction. No soldier lost in this war will
be forgotten, I'll make sure of it."
"Then I suppose I should get to work making this," Shen said, turning
back to the table. "Let me know if I should prepare the procedure for
new pilots."
The Commander inclined his head. "I'll let you know soon."
It had also given him some time to think as the meal cooked. Vahlen
had likely managed to refine the gene mods to a state where he'd
feel comfortable allowing soldiers to undergo genetic modification. At
least that was what he was assuming, but he did privately wonder
how Vahlen was going to take his request that he be the first one to
receive them.
No. Vahlen knew what she was doing. He would have nothing to
worry about. He knew it was irrational, but chalked up his
apprehension to basic human fear of the unknown. Even he wasn't
immune to it, especially since he knew the consequences of it failing
He shook his head as stepped into the exotic room. Vahlen hadn't
stopped collecting odd animals since the last time he'd been here. A
large container containing a jellyfish and another one containing a
crocodile now lined the wall to his right, so he walked over by the
jellyfish contained which was illuminated by a deep blue light and
watched the creature bob in the water.
It really was an interesting creature, and he wondered exactly what
Vahlen wanted it for. Didn't the jellyfish have some kind of amazing
healing ability or was he misremembering? Regardless, he'd have to
ask her about it.
"Is that for me?" He heard an incredulous Vahlen ask behind him
and he turned with a smile to face her. She was wearing her regular
lab coat and holding her tablet close to her arm.
He held out the plate. "Of course, this is what you requested, if I
remember correctly."
She took it after setting her tablet on a nearby table. "I can't believe
you remembered it," she muttered as she started eating. "Thank you,
Commander."
"Hopefully it's not too bad," the Commander answered, glad she
seemed to like it. "Besides, I think you deserve it."
She looked at him in disbelief. "No more than you," she commented,
then pointed at the plate with her fork. "You want some?"
"No need," the Commander shook his head. "That's for you and I ate
quite a bit in the kitchen." He nodded back towards the tank of
jellyfish. "But maybe you could explain that ."
Well that was promising. "Then I assume that the first round of
genetic mods is ready for use?"
"Hold that for a moment," he suggested. "I'd like to know about the
elerium."
"Ah," she recalled. "I assume Shen told you about that? Yes, we
don't know much about how it works except that it can be used to
generate a massive amount of energy," she motioned around the
room aimlessly. "It's without a doubt the alien's main power source.
We've been finding small crystals of elerium in the power sources,
computers and even the weapons. Unlocking its secrets could lead
to an energy revolution the world has never seen!"
Vahlen let out a sigh. "Yes, but I don't have unlimited scientists,
sadly."
"I know," the Commander assured her. "And what you've done has
been extraordinary. What of your research into psionics?"
"She thinks she tapped into the alien psionic network," the
Commander remembered. "Perhaps that's what triggered her."
"I've thought of that," Vahlen pointed out dismissively. "But we have
no way to do that here. Not unless we recover a working alien device
that can connect to this psionic network. I'm working on trying to
simulate the brainwaves Patricia exhibits when she uses her
abilities. They seem to be limited to psionic users, so it will be easy
to detect, but triggering them is the hard part."
Vahlen pursed her lips. "Honestly… not as much as you'd think. Our
largest limiting factor is that Patricia is the only human to exhibit
psionic abilities. If I had more, that would greatly help, but as far as I
know, there are no others."
"I suppose," she sighed. "I do wish they comprehended what they
were destroying accidentally sometimes. We could be so much
further ahead."
"Don't focus on that," the Commander told her intently. "But I do want
your professional opinion now. Where should we devote our
resources?"
She thought for a moment. "The gene mods we have now should
suffice for the time being, even if there is much room for innovation.
Fully understanding the elerium would benefit XCOM greater at the
moment, and potentially the rest of the world if this can be
replicated."
The Commander tended to agree. Elerium would have a greater
range of use than more genetic mods, at least for now. "Then
consider that approved," he nodded towards her. "Let me know
exactly what you need."
They walked over towards the doors which slid open displaying the
white room and glass cells. There were noticeably fewer test
subjects here, but the ones that were still there… some of them
seemed different.
"Yes," Vahlen nodded. "But don't worry, Zhang told me about your
plan for them. The bodies are in cold storage."
"We've tested him reading words from across the room," Vahlen
explained. "In addition to the various other tests, I've confirmed that
this modification is a success."
"He took a few hours to orient himself and threw up multiple times,"
Vahlen answered with a shrug. "Honestly, that was expected. I do
think it's somewhat unfortunate that we'll have to dispose of them. If
only there was a way to use them safely."
Yes, that was something the Commander hadn't liked about this
whole situation. Even if these people were criminals, it felt wrong to
throw away a potential resource like that, even if they couldn't be
relied upon.
She blinked at that, clearly that possibility had never occurred to her.
"A real-life Manchurian Candidate," she breathed as her eyes lit up.
"I… had never considered the possibility."
"Yes, yes," Vahlen muttered under her breath, then shook her head.
"Anyway, let's move on." She walked to the cell a few feet further.
This one contained another man who looked unchanged. Although
the Commander noticed that he looked unusually solid, almost as if
he was on strength enhancing steroids.
"I was able to sort out the issue of muscle density," Vahlen
explained, as she tapped on the glass and opened up the intercom.
"Jump!"
With no hesitation the man nodded fearfully, bent his knees and
jumped at least ten feet high and landed without any trouble at all.
The Commander blinked in amazement, this was honestly more than
he'd hoped for. "Amazing. Is there a limit to how far they can fall?"
"Not measured," Vahlen answered slowly. "But I'd imagine that they
have a cushion of at least twice what can be jumped. Humans can
usually survive falls twice their height in a normal jump, so I'd
imagine the same rules apply here. I doubt he'd survive jumping out
of a skyscraper, but off a house a couple of stories high? Absolutely."
"I'd show you the subject we were able to get the secondary heart
working with," Vahlen answered nonchalantly. "But you wouldn't be
able to tell, but we've managed it excellently. However, I do think this
is my greatest work." She stopped in front of another cell, this one
with another man inside.
The man nodded and somehow the Commander was still surprised
when the man actually started climbing up the glass wall easily. It
looked very odd, but the Commander was growing ecstatic at the
possibilities these gene mods were going to allow him. Once the
man reached about halfway up the glass wall, he looked down, and
pushed off.
"A side effect," Vahlen confirmed. "I doubt he could survive the falls
the other subject could, but falls that would hurt a normal human
wouldn't to him. Strength was also a side effect of both mods. Both
men are stronger than any human, this one a bit more so."
"I know I've said this before," the Commander shook his head,
smiling. "But you've outdone yourself here. Thank you."
She put a hand on his shoulder. "You allowed this to happen. I made
it happen, sure, but you were the one who believed I could do it, no
matter what it took. I need to thank you for that."
He put his own hand over hers, keeping it there for a few seconds.
"Well, I hope you're ready for your first recipient." He said after a few
moments.
She gave him a warm smile. "You have people already planned?"
"Of course," he reminded her. "If you think it's ready for soldiers, it
should be ready for me."
She gave a dramatic sigh. "I hate when you try and be noble."
He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Noble? I like to think it's
practical ."
"I'll get my staff ready," she said, crossing her arms as she looked
up. "Which mods do you want?"
"Enhanced vision, the secondary heart and muscle fiber density," the
Commander answered. "I'd imagine some are mutually exclusive."
"Yes," she confirmed. "But none of the ones you mentioned are. If
you've wanted the climbing mod, it would conflict with the muscle
fiber mod."
"Well," the Commander let out a breath. "I'm ready when you are."
"Sit tight," she advised as she made her way out. "I'll prepare." With
that she left him, leaving his with the company of genetically altered
criminals. Well, this should be interesting.
"Make that your next priority," Saudia ordered. "It's imperative that
our soldiers survive against the alien weapons."
Tygan inclined his head. "Of course, Director. I have also informed
Overseer Eridan about the possibility of genetically modifying
soldiers. I believe that we can use this melding substance recovered
from the aliens to increase the human body's strength, endurance,
reaction time and durability. With your approval, I could begin
inquiries into this line of research."
Saudia pursed her lips. "I assume you would need test subjects."
" Carefully and safely," he assured her calmly. "I will not develop
anything that is a threat to the recipient. Once I'm confident that the
procedure is safe, I will only take volunteers, with your approval, of
course."
"Then proceed as you need," she said after a few seconds. "But we
are on a limited timeframe. Should you feel that you need to… ignore
certain protocols, you have my permission to do what it takes. The
survival of humanity supersedes all. Understand?"
He nodded firmly. "Yes, Director. I will work to ensure that option
does not need to be considered."
"Good luck, Doctor." She told him, then reached over and ended the
call. His hologram vanished a few seconds later and she sighed.
One call out of the way, one more to go. She sincerely hoped
Elizabeth had a good explanation planned for her, because if that
was the best thing her team could do against XCOM, then there
were issues.
She entered the number and a few moments later, the hologram of
Elizabeth appeared. The EXALT Spymaster had her dark hair pulled
back and wore the typical Falka clothing, which was far less formal
than any other EXALT family uniforms. Elizabeth tended to wear a
black leather jacket with the EXALT logo embroidered on the upper
right chest.
How very perceptive of her. "Yes," Saudia let out slowly, putting
some ice in her tone. "When you said you would wage a propaganda
war on XCOM, I was under the assumption that it would be a
successful one. Not one that would be exposed before twenty-four
hours had passed. You failed."
Elizabeth had the grace to wince. "You would have a point, Director,
but as I believe I explained before, I wanted to test the waters before
beginning the full campaign. What I released was a test, to see how
XCOM would react. I need to know how well they can counter what
we put out."
"We do not have time for that," Saudia stated coldly. "You've had
ample time to prepare something more than this . But since you've
done it, I should hope you gained something useful from this."
" I have," Elizabeth assured her with a quick nod. "XCOM will not go
down without a fight, and whoever they have in charge of
counterintelligence and PR is good. Very good."
Elizabeth seemed to realize that she was not entirely pleased with
that explanation. "I could assume, but that's all-"
"Enough." Saudia cut off, raising a fist, shutting her up promptly. " I
could have told you XCOM would have staffed someone competent,
that is the reason we're acting against them in the first place. You've
wasted valuable time confirming something you should have
assumed to begin with. "
Elizabeth swallowed visibly. That threat was rarely invoked, but when
it was it was almost never disputed. It was certainly rare for the head
of a family to be removed, but each time it happened it was
warranted. Elizabeth knew that, and now knew the extent of her
failure. There was no question whether Saudia would follow through
on her threat, that she'd stated it at all was confirmation enough.
She swallowed again. "I understand, Director. I will not fail again."
Saudia pursed her lips. "We'll see. Is there anything else you can
update me on?"
"I assume you have people watching her boyfriend?" Saudia asked.
" I actually should ask you that," Elizabeth finally answered after a
pause. "You saw the North Korea broadcast, yes?"
Saudia nodded.
"I'll attempt that," Saudia promised. "But we both know how hard it is
to get information out. We can't risk our only agent for anything less
than an impending attack."
Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose so. But we should deal with this sooner
than later."
"Leave North Korea to me," Saudia told her. "Now I think we both
need to get back to work. Fix your mistakes."
Elizabeth bowed her head. "Yes, Director. You'll see results shortly."
The hologram vanished, leaving her in the room alone. Time to get to
work, more psionic subjects were needed, regardless if they ended
up recapturing Subject Four. They couldn't waste more time, and the
scientists were just going to have to do their best.
She was also getting much better at picking out full thoughts when
she concentrated, now she could filter out the meaningless noise
and hear full sentences, images and emotions, most of which were
intertwined with each other.
It was interesting just how differently people thought from each other.
Some just thought in plain sentences, like words in a book, reading
from left to right. Others visualized by creating an image in their head
and playing out the thought inside it. But one thing that was
consistent was that there was always meaning behind the thought; it
was always accompanied by whatever emotion had been attached to
that particular thought. Anger, joy, happiness, terror, accusation, it
was clear to her now. Words were just noise, it was the emotions
behind them that gave them meaning.
To her annoyance, it still happened much too randomly for her liking.
When she finally could read a thought, it was pretty much never her
intention. It was accidental and was now happening completely on its
own, even if she wasn't trying to listen.
That was becoming more apparent to her now. She was beginning to
understand, but not quite able to concentrate specifically on one
specific mind, go into it and understand everything, access
memories and thoughts. But that would hopefully change soon, since
now she thought she knew how to figure it out.
Now she needed someone to test with. Luckily she could sense him
coming up behind her. She was so familiar with his presence that
she could detect wherever he was in the Citadel. On this level she
knew him better than anyone ever could, she could sense things no
one would have guessed otherwise. One being that no matter what
emotion she sensed from him primarily, it was always accompanied
by something else, a long suppressed fear.
Of what she could only guess at, but whatever it was, it was old, long
ago and embedded so deep she wasn't sure he was aware of it
anymore. She wondered how exactly she could broach that
particular topic, even though she'd tried going into his mind many
times, it seemed almost too personal.
Still, that wasn't the only interesting thing she'd sensed. He'd likely
never admit it to anyone, but he was very protective of people he
cared about. When she'd first noticed it, she'd wondered if it was
exclusive to her, and hadn't exactly known how to feel about it. But
upon further examination… it was just a part of his mindset, not
exclusive to her, though she was certain she was included in that
category.
It was odd, she would have never pegged him as the protective type
when they'd first met. What she'd assumed was arrogance when
they'd had their first one-on-one talk on the sparring floor, might have
instead been his way of demonstrating that, teaching her stuff to
keep her alive.
Well, even if she was perfectly capable to taking care of herself, she
did find it sweet that he considered her that important. Though it was
likely bound to happen given what she was doing to him, it couldn't
really get more personal than that. But it did give her some pause
about what she might find if she went digging around in his mind.
She shook her head, partially to visibly disagree and partially to pull
her mind back into the present. "I can sense you whenever I want.
You stand out to me so it wasn't hard to know you were coming up."
She for once couldn't tell what he was feeling from him expression,
and she didn't sense any sort of accusation of anger from him. But
definitely suppression of some kind. "Does that bother you?" She
asked.
"I am," she stated immediately, then winced. "Sorry, I can't help it
now. But it's not really helpful. Whatever you're feeling you're putting
it down."
She was relieved that was it, even though she could understand
exactly why he felt that way. She hoped that he realized that it wasn't
constant . "It's not like a GPS telling me where you are at all times."
He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, amusement and
resignation rolling off him in equal measure. "You can sense me just
by concentrating for a few seconds, yes? That accomplishes the
same thing, more or less."
"So if you can pick me out so well, have you figured out how to
directly…" he motioned to his head. " Read my mind, I guess."
Patricia pursed her lips. "That's actually what I want to test out. I'm
getting better at it, but it's random and unsolicited. I haven't been
able to do it consciously yet, it's just sort of… happened ."
"Happened," Creed repeated with a nod. "Huh, so it's sort of like the
whole reading emotions thing, it just started happening and you
couldn't stop it."
"Sort of," Patricia answered, after a pause. "I think I know how to
replicate it now, so I guess now's as good a time as any to try
reading your mind. Up for it?"
"Sure, why not?" Creed commented, half sarcastically. "So…
anything in particular you want me to focus on?"
What was stopping her? She had control over everything here, and a
form might help ground her more. She concentrated and actually
looked around the blackness she was in. The perspective was
essentially unchanged, except that when she looked down, she
could see her body, as if she was actually physically here.
It was oddly metaphorical, and not what she'd expected. But she
assumed this was her mind's way of creating visualizations for stuff
that otherwise couldn't be quantified. Without waiting further, she
opened the door and words started appearing in her mind, writing
themselves out as if in a word processing program.
She's been that way for fifteen minutes? Is she still awake?
The voice that accompanied it was clearly Creed's. It made sense
that he'd think in his own voice, she did the same thing and
suspected almost everyone did. Blinking in her ethereal form, she
realized that she was actually envisioning the words out in front of
her, not simply inside her head. Furthermore, some of them seemed
different, words were emphasized, bolded or otherwise marked, and
she suddenly realized that was the underlying emotions
accompanying each thought, in this case, curiosity and concern.
It was then she realized that she hadn't heard anything from him
since she'd focused on that one thought? Had she accidentally
stopped his thought process, or was he continuing on and she hadn't
noticed? She made the words disappeared and a tightening she
hadn't realized was there vanished and she continued letting the
thoughts continue.
Now Creed was amused, if the new thought that appeared to her
was any indication. "Maybe I should test that out, ha. Maybe snap
my fingers in front of her or something. This was accompanied by
the sudden vision of her, still from Creed's perspective, snapping his
fingers in front of her and she suddenly leapt out of her chair with an
overly dramatic shout of surprise.
Patricia snorted. Clearly, she was seeing some kind of scene created
in Creed's head. It was a little funny though, and she let out a
chuckle.
Oh wait, now she's… smiling? Huh? Now the image that appeared in
front of her appeared to actually be real, and showed her in the
same position she'd been in, though now with a faint smile on her
face.
Interesting, it seemed that her feelings here did seem to transition to
the real world. Creed's thoughts continued unabated.
Huh, also useful for her to know. So it seemed that he had sensed
that something was off, but wouldn't have known if he hadn't
expected it. Now it seemed that she could access his thoughts
without him knowing.
Let's see how long it's… the Hell? No way ten minutes passed
unless…"
Ah, not good. Time to see if her theory of stopping thoughts worked.
She pulled up the thought in progress and looked at the words in
front of her. So, she could see them, as well as every single minute
detail that could be imagined.
Now…
She waved her hand as if clearing a board and the letters vanished,
but she knew that whatever words she wanted would appear.
Puppies. She envisioned. Puppies are very, very cute.
That done, she released hold of the thought and wanted to see
where he went with it. She almost burst out laughing at how things
initially proceeded without a hitch.
Puppies are very, very cute, he thought, made even funnier by the
sincerity that came along with it. It's too bad they didn't really have
them on base. German Shepherds are nice, good breed. Actually,
no, Retrievers are better. Yeah, more friendly, a golden retriever
would be nice to have, maybe when I get out. Provided we win the
war of course.
He really did seem to be going along with that, and she was initially
concerned that she had accidentally corrupted his mind to think
about nothing but puppies. I wonder where Galia got her dog,
probably given to her by the Israelis. Wonder how that all works
exactly. His emotions changed to surprise, then confusing. Wait.
Why the hell am I thinking about puppies when Patricia is trying to
read my mind? God, I hope she didn't get in yet. Sorry Patricia if
you're listening, I'm trying to take this seriously.
She almost laughed at that and it gave her the perfect exit point. She
waited for that thought to finish and then froze the next one before
stating what she wanted him to think. Apology accepted, Creed.
Creed was staring at her, wariness and shock rolling off of him. "Was
that…?"
" Apology accepted?" she quoted, feeling oddly tired. "Yeah, you got
it?"
"Yes," she breathed. "The whole puppy tangent was me too, I made
that appear and you just went with it until you realized something
was off."
"I didn't know something was off," he admitted. "I just thought that…
well, you know. I guess… this was a success then?"
"I think so," Patricia nodded, feeling more energetic after realizing
what she'd accomplished. She'd actually read another person's mind
and what's more, altered the thoughts to make them seem their own.
And with that, the realization of just how dangerous that ability was
crashed down on her. With this little experiment, she had possibly
become the most dangerous and powerful person in the world. If she
really wanted to… she could control anyone she wanted, make them
puppets without them ever knowing it wasn't them.
Her sudden realizations must have shown on her face because she
looked at her intently, nothing but concern and seriousness coming
off him. "I guess you've guessed the implications of this."
Her voice broke at the end, and she slumped onto the table. "I'm not
the right person to have this power," she whispered. "I'm just a
soldier."
She heard Creed get up and sit down beside her. "And who is the
right person?" He asked quietly, as he put his arm around her which
she gratefully accepted. "A politician? General? Commander? A
homeless man? Can anyone really be trusted with this?"
She took a breath, and sat up a bit more. It was unlike her to be
this… distraught, but she was worried about the risk she now posed,
even more so than before. "Maybe not," she answered. "But I now
pose a risk to everyone. Who would stop me if I turned?"
"Stop." He told her firmly, his face hard as she looked up at him.
"Stop this worst-case scenario planning. It sometimes endearing, but
you take this way too far sometimes. The fact that you're worried
about this is a reason you're the right person to wield this power.
You're a good woman, Patricia. You're not going to suddenly turn on
us for power."
His words were reasonable and she nodded several times. "Alright.
But…"
"Sounds like a plan," Creed nodded. "Take some time to recover, I'll
go with you to the Commander when you tell him. He'll likely want to
question me anyway."
"That sounds good," Patricia agreed. "I wonder how he'll take the
news?"
… Commander…..up….see…
His eyes adjusted better after a half-minute, and with the light now
dimmer, he looked down on his arms to see two yellow tubes
attached to an implant just below his shoulder. Vahlen and another
scientist came up and unplugged the tubes from her arms. "How are
you feeling?" Vahlen asked as she looked him over.
Once the water stopped, he shook his head and opened his eyes.
He could tell Vahlen was in front of him, but was blurry and out of
focus. Sort of what he expected if he needed glasses. The light was
no longer piercing, but this wasn't a good start. "Everything is blurry,"
he told her, keeping his tone neutral.
"That's normal," she assured him, handing him a towel which he
began using to dry himself off. "Your eyes will need some time to
adjust."
"I'll hold you to that," he muttered. Rolling his shoulders, testing out
the rest of his body. Now that he was a bit more conscious, he
noticed a drastic difference in how he actually felt . He felt
unmistakably stronger, but his reflexes also seemed much faster,
even in his state his movements felts much smoother and he was
used to. He'd never been clumsy, but he knew his strengths and
agility wasn't one of them.
Hmm, well he had nothing else to test at the moment, and looked
across the room. He blinked in surprise and he saw the far door as
clearly as if it was right in front of him. There were a list of
regulations beside the door and to his amazement, he could read
them as clearly as if he was standing in front of it.
He could see her blink and hear the excitement in her voice. "Yes,
you can read that?"
"I can," he answered, looking at the list. "Rule fifteen covers proper
handling of lab specimens, right?"
The three scientists to the right that had helped Vahlen exchanged
ecstatic looks and gave each other high-fives and satisfied smiles
and hugs. To the left stood Zhang, Bradford and Van Doorn and
Shen, who politely applauded Vahlen who looked at the Commander
with a large genuine smile on her face.
"You've changed the way war will be waged," Van Doorn added,
while the Commander got dressed with the clothes Vahlen had given
him. "Human super-soldiers have been envisioned since the
beginning of warfare, but you've actually done it. You deserve
recognition."
"No," Vahlen told him, shaking her head. "We'll need it in case you
need additional treatment or want to genetically modify you more."
"Fair enough," the Commander acknowledged. If this was the only
price he had to pay, if seemed more than worth it, and it wouldn't
really hinder him in the first place.
Then jumped.
He sped through the air, within a few seconds the beam was in front
of him and he grasped the beam and hung from it. A childlike feeling
of wonder filled him and he laughed as he looked down at everyone
under him, laughing in sheer disbelief and joy that this was even
possible.
He was also holding himself up with little energy, even less that what
it had taken him to initially jump up here. Alright, now was the main
test. But Vahlen's work had allowed him to jump this high, give him
incredible vision and another heart. Thus he felt no fear when he let
go and dropped.
He sped towards the ground and hit it with a thud, perfectly upright,
the impact barely worse than what he'd felt when dropping a couple
of feet before his enhancement. He raised a fist and whooped in joy
as he approached the group who was cheering and applauding. He
hadn't felt this way in years.
Fun . There was no other word to describe jumping twenty feet in the
air and dropping like a feather. "That was amazing," he told Vahlen,
pulling her into a hug which she returned enthusiastically. "Thank
you."
"We've done it," Vahlen said into his shoulder. "It worked. It was
worth it."
"That we did," he told her, stepping back and facing them all. "This is
a major achievement, no question about that. But the war is by no
means won." He paused.
"Yet."
He clasped his hands behind his back. "But this will enable us to
face the alien threat and annihilate it once in for all. We have the
technology at our disposal and it's time to take full advantage of it."
He was feeling pretty good at the moment. There was little that could
happen that would ruin this day, which he knew he was jeopardizing
just by thinking it. But things hadn't turned out this well for… well, a
long time. All that would really cap off this day would be this issue
with Shun be sorted out without issue.
Luckily, she'd responded quickly and was actually waiting outside
now. He opened the door and the Chinese agent stepped through in
her XCOM fatigues, her expression apparently neutral and the
Commander wouldn't have been able to tell what she was thinking,
had he had the sight of a normal human.
She took it, keeping her hands on her lap. "Commander," she
greeting, her voice as neutral as her face tried to be. "What can I do
for you?"
He saw the faintest flash of relief cross her face. "That's good to
know."
"I have suspicions," the Commander told her. "But I would like you to
guess why the Chinese would feel the need to strike that from your
file."
"You're right," the Commander told her, and her head snapped up
and she frowned. "Causing trouble is the reason I believe those
particular details were struck. But not for the reasons you think. If
any trouble will be caused, you will determine the extent of it."
"You spent a good portion of your time hunting the Triad," the
Commander repeated. "The short version is that Shaojie Zhang is
the Director of XCOM Intelligence."
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. " What ?"
"There were likely other options, but I have neither the time, nor
resources to find them all," the Commander answered, his tone
turning harder. "We are in a war for our survival. That means working
with people who otherwise not be considered. Zhang has performed
exceptionally for us, and was the reason Shanghai is not reduced to
rubble today."
"Did they know about this?" Shun demanded. "Did the Chinese know
he was here?"
The Commander gave one firm nod. "Good. That's all I wanted to
discuss."
She stood, inclining her head gratefully as she gave his salute. "I
thank you for telling me this, Commander. Most would have covered
it up or removed me. You can rely on my loyalty. Earth comes before
country."
A sentiment that was sadly lacking with certain people. "I want
nothing more," he promised.
She seemed satisfied and walked out of the door and as the door
hissed open, Carmelita walked in, giving Shun a look of surprise as
she walked by. Perfect timing. "Am I interrupting anything,
Commander?" She asked, looked at him curiously.
"Your goal is to kill aliens," Carmelita stated coldly, firmly. Her eyes
as hard as ice. "You have proven that time and time again. That is
my purpose now, whatever will be required to eradicate the aliens is
something I will do willingly, no matter what."
"In that case, you'll still need to indicate the extent of the genetic
modifications you want," the Commander said. "Then you will be
altered within the next few days. You will be a part of the next phase
of human warfare, faster, better and stronger than any soldier before
you."
Carmelita marked several spots on the tablet. "I look forward to it. I
mean what I said, Commander. Whatever you need, I will do."
Italy, Rome
She'd almost blown it leaving Japan, thinking that she could just
mind-control her way onto the plane. Initially, it had worked, though
several people had given her strange looks as she just walked
through the line with only a word to the security guards and
personnel.
She'd been way too obvious, and had she not stopped to sense the
area immediately after exiting the plane in China, she would have
been taken away by the three EXALT operatives that were waiting
for her. Fortunately, these people were professionals. Too
professional for their own good, it made them easier to pinpoint and
it had taken a subtle suggesting from her for them to leave the area
briefly, giving her time to get out.
The week that followed had involved her sneaking into the luggage,
taking boats, trains and taxis in what she hoped was a haphazard
and unpredictable pattern for EXALT. For the most part it seemed to
work, and she'd just kept out of the way of the rest of the passengers
if anyone else was with her.
But she was wondering if that wasn't a mistake now. EXALT had to
know where she was going, and had she no choice, she would have
gone anywhere else. The only problem was that there was no one
else to go to. She couldn't trust anyone, or any government.
There were only two options that seemed like good ideas to her now,
and might be her only chance. She had to find Latrell first, but that
was a temporary solution at best. EXALT would figure out who he
was, if they hadn't already, and either kill them both or take her
prisoner again. His position within the French Police wouldn't even
be a concern for them.
So once they made contact, there was really only one place to go
where she might be safe: XCOM.
She really didn't care that much now. XCOM was an enemy of
EXALT, and if she didn't know better, it was probably EXALT that had
leaked the video in the first place. But they were enemies, and that
was all she needed to know.
The only problem was how to get to them. XCOM didn't have any
recruiting stations, and no one really know where they operated out
of, not to mention they seemed to only make public appearances
when absolutely necessary. So… that would be a problem for her,
but maybe Latrell knew more than her.
Out of the airport now, she began walking down the street until she
saw one of those booths selling those cheap phones with a limited
number of minutes on them. She'd always wondered who would ever
pay to get those, but was now grateful for their very existence. She'd
taken a few more credit cards from unsuspecting people in the other
cities and that time had just withdrawn a set amount of cash before
disposing of the card.
Money wasn't that much of an issue to her now, but if things went
wrong, she'd have to do it again soon. As it stood now she had
enough to get the phone, and pay for gas for the car she was going
to steal. She really didn't want to, but she had no choice and she
needed a reliable mode of transportation she controlled.
She walked up to the stand, picked out the cheapest flip-phone and
handed it to the man. She didn't speak Italian, so she hoped he
understood English. "How much for this?"
"And this'll work right away?" She pressed, wanting to make sure.
He rolled his eyes and nodded his head towards the sign. "That's
what the sign says. Read it."
She pursed her lips, starting to be put off by his dismissive attitude. "I
would, but I don't read Italian."
She was very tempted to just mind-control this jerk and walk away.
But she was breaking enough laws without adding another. But she
wasn't going to let him off for being so rude. As she pulled out the
money, she focused for his mind and secured it. Anything she said
would be followed. Complex commands didn't really work, but simple
things were fine.
"Listen carefully," she told him as she set the money on the table,
looking into his eyes, the pupils glowing a slight purple as she
exercised her power over him. "Whenever your next customer shows
up, you're going to give them whatever they want, for free. Because
you're a kind and generous person." She picked up the phone case.
"Understand?"
She snapped her fingers quickly, a trick she'd figured out which
helped emphasize certain quick commands. "Sleep." He slumped
over a second later, already out.
With any luck he'd think it was some dream or hazy memory. As long
as he didn't think too much about it. Which from the apathetic mind
he seemed to have, that likely wouldn't be a problem. She turned
away and began walking while taking the plastic casing off the
phone, and tossing it in a nearby trash can.
She quickly entered Latrell's number and began typing: [Meet at the
place you almost got me killed.] She hit send and put the phone in
her pocket.
She figured that if EXALT were watching his messages, they'd not
know what she was talking about. Latrell would know, thought.
They'd once gone to Nice together, and had insisted that they go to
some high-end restaurant which she refused to name now, insisting
it was the best there was. Naturally, she'd accepted and after eating
there, had gotten food poisoning and had experienced what was
then the worst twelve hours of her life.
Needless to say she'd left a bad review, and ever since then referred
to that time as his attempt at killing her. An inside joke she found
amusing, but still mortified him.
She kept walking down, keeping an eye out for people who were
getting in and out of cars on the streets. She watched for a minute,
then brightened as a Lamborghini pulled up, and a very well-dressed
man in a business suit stepped out. Well, that was the perfect
opportunity, if this man could afford a car like that, he could certainly
afford another one. It wasn't exactly inconspicuous, but she felt
better about taking his car, than someone who wasn't nearly as well
off.
She backed up, kept her head lowered as she leaned against the
wall and waited for him to pass. Once he was, she followed him as
he went into one of the nearby banks. Time for the moment of truth.
She pulled the handle and the door clicked open and she scooted
into the seat of a car that was worth her entire salary. She'd look at
the luxury later, there was only one thing she was interested in now.
There it was. The key was still in place and she turned it on, the
engine roaring to life and she grinned. She was going to be ditching
this car after meeting him, so she might as well enjoy the ride while
she could.
The phone buzzed and she looked down to see a response from
Latrell. Short and to the point: [Understood].
She nodded, satisfied and broke the phone in half, opened the door,
and dropped the pieces onto the street. Shifting the gears to drive,
she sped out onto the streets and toward Nice.
France, Nice
Assuming that he was coming from his house, it would take him
roughly eight and a half hours, and that was also relying on him
leaving right away, which she wasn't sure was possible. He did still
have a job, but she somewhat assumed that he'd done whatever he
could to get off early. The Lamborghini she'd driven had included a
very helpful GPS which had gotten her to Nice no problem, and even
to that restaurant, the Les Amoureux .
It was dark now and she'd had an hour to kill so she'd driven around
some, in circles to see if anyone was following her, but there'd
seemed to be nothing. After stopping and getting something quick to
eat, she'd parked a ways from the restaurant and left it, not wanting
to be caught with it.
Should someone find it, they'd see it unlocked and ready for the
taking. She didn't care what happened to it now, but it wasn't her
problem anymore. Now all she had to do was wait around this fancy
restaurant without looking suspicious or worse. Loitering might draw
attention, and she didn't want to worry about the Nice police, even if
she was sure she could escape easily.
Right now she wished she had a watch, since she didn't like looking
inside random stores and businesses for clocks. She'd briefly
considered taking one from one of the many people walking by, but
she'd done enough and this wasn't a necessary theft. Should
everything keep going smoothly, he should show any minute.
Unless…
Of course they could force Latrell to act as the bait… no, he wouldn't
give into them. He'd die before giving her up… right? She
swallowed. Even he had his limits, and then there was the possibility
that they would threaten his family to get his cooperation. Then… in
that case everything was screwed. But the good news was that if he
was acting as bait, she'd be able to sense it.
So she walked.
Every time she finished going around the restaurant, her eyes
looking for any sign of him, she just kept her eyes on the ground and
tried making sense of the chaos of minds around her. Shouting,
whispering, screaming, the voices just existed and fought for her
attention. She was now able to block them mostly at will, but opening
herself up was almost overwhelming.
She could usually pinpoint a specific mind if she had visual contact
of the person, she wasn't sure why, but it was almost impossible to
pinpoint someone through this maze of meaningless noise and
density. But in the end, she wasn't caring that much about the voices
specifically, she was reaching for emotions.
She reached the restaurant again, and scanned the parking lot for
his car. Still nothing. She sighed and looked into the restaurant as
much as she could. She didn't see him in there either, though that
made sense. Why would he go in now? There was no way she'd go
inside for a meal.
She shook her head and kept walking around the block. It felt like
hours had passed but in reality it was likely only a handful of
minutes. An hour at most, no reason to start worrying yet. Though it
might be a good idea to vary up her route a bit. If someone was
watching, they might wonder why a strange woman was
continuously walking around in a circle.
"[Annette?]"
She froze.
The voice came from just behind her. She took a second to sense
the mind behind her. It was emitting restrained hope, concern and
happiness all at once. She didn't sense anything malicious. Shaking
slightly, she turned around and saw him under the light of a
lamppost. Latrell was simply wearing his "off-duty" uniform that was
a black leather jacket holding his concealed pistol, jeans and military
boots.
She ran towards him and threw her arms around him, burying her
face in his shoulder. He instantly hugged her back and they stayed
that way for a few seconds. "[You made it,]" she whispered. "[You
made it.]"
She reluctantly let go and stepped back, beaming with joy she hadn't
felt for months. "[I told you to trust me to find you.]"
And with that reality came crashing in. "[We're not safe,]" she told
him urgently. "[Where are you parked?]"
He took her hand in his own. "[Right this way,]" he said as they
started walking. "[I managed to get a squad car so we shouldn't get
stopped by police.]"
She wasn't sure that was the best idea, but refrained from telling him
that at the moment. "[Just take me home.]"
But it suited him very well, softening his otherwise sharper features,
though it couldn't negate the piercing quality of his eyes that
unsettled so many people. Combined with his height and position, he
sometimes made for an intimidating figure. Now though, she figured
that might come in handy.
They finally reached the car and he let go of her hand when his eyes
narrowed, then widened as he looked at her hand. "[What happened
to your hand,]" he asked incredulously, taking it again much more
gingerly.
Oh. In everything that happened, she'd forgotten that her hands and
arms looked like. She was so used to it by now that she hadn't
thought to consider Latrell's reaction. "[It's not as bad as it looks… ]"
she began as he gently pushed up the sleeve of her jacket.
"[The fuck it's not,]" he growled, growing visibly angry and flush as
he looked at her warped and scarred skin. "[What did they do-]"
She took his hand off her. "[I'll tell you everything,]" she said,
glancing around. "[But let's just start driving.]"
He nodded quickly several times and they both got into the car.
Annette took off the jacket, so he could see the extent of the damage
that went up to her shoulders. She hadn't checked, but she was fairly
certain that it was starting to reach her upper chest and neck as well.
But she could still function, so she'd ignored it for the moment.
Then began talking, first describing how she'd been kidnapped and
taken away by strange people. People she hadn't learned the
identity of for months. Then described the months of torture by drugs
she'd gone through. She didn't leave any details out, Latrell dealt
with this kind of stuff frequently.
The more she talked, the more furious he got. His hands were
almost white with splotches of red from gripping the wheel so hard. It
reflected what she sensed from him, a building righteous fury that
wasn't going to go away anytime soon.
"[Then came the first time they said the date,]" Annette continued,
getting more into recent events. She looked out the window at the
peaceful countryside, so different than what she'd been through. "[I
hoped it was the end, that whatever drug they were planning to test
would actually kill me and end it for good.]"
She shook her head. "[At fate would have it, it didn't. But at the time I
wish it had," she motioned toward her head. "[It felt as though my
brain was being split open, I could hear things, voices screaming at
me. Inside my head, at first I thought I was going insane.]"
"[Not exactly,]" she sighed. "[I can sense what you're feeling; what
your general intentions are. But I can't really actually read your mind.
It's too much all at once. The amount is just overwhelming.]"
"[I'm getting to that,]" Annette said, looking at him. "[But yes, it was.
It's not the only thing I can do, either.]"
"[I can summon some kind of energy,]" Annette explained, flexing her
wrist as she looked down at the warped flesh. "And… well, I can use
it as a weapon.]"
She raised her arm. "[But it's painful. This wasn't from EXALT. This
was from using psionics.]"
"[Psionics?]"
"[What EXALT calls these abilities,]" Annette explained. "[I guess this
is what they were testing for all along. I wasn't the only one either.]"
She continued telling him about the other test subjects, the Furies,
and her eventual escape by sneaking out on their cargo plane.
"[You know the rest,]" she finished wearily, shrinking into her seat. "
[That's my story.]"
He shook his head in disbelief. "[I… don't know what to say. What
can I say to that?]"
"[It doesn't feel like that,]" he continued, raw anger coloring his voice.
"[EXALT needs to be destroyed for what they did to you. At the
minimum.]"
"[Good idea,]" Latrell agreed hesitantly, pursing his lips. "[Except that
almost no one knows how to contact XCOM. You'd have better luck
trying to contact the SEALs than them.]"
She narrowed her eyebrows and formed her left hand into a fist and
drew on the power to manifest itself. Her skin burst as the swirling
purple energy converged around her forearm and wrist and
converged into a ball of energy in her hand.
She released her hold on the energy and it faded away, leaving her
arm red, torn and in pain. But she'd endured it before and would do it
again for however long it took. She took a deep breath. "[Are you
alright with this?]"
In a few more days, Mordecai, Sarah and Samuel would undergo the
treatment, and right now he was looking to expand the roster a few
more. Creed, several of the new CT operatives, probably Leonid and
Veronika, and probably Patricia. He'd wondered if her psionics would
interfere somehow, but Vahlen had assured him that they had
nothing to worry about since they weren't modifying the brain itself.
He'd also made inquiries into possibly letting Myra undergo the
modification for the secondary heart. That was really only the part
which could be modified since her eyesight was mechanically
enhanced and the majority of her limbs replaced with metallic
prosthetics. Shen had said that while the skeleton had been
reinforced with mechanical implants, the organs themselves were
unchanged, so it should be possible.
And if this good string of luck held out, in a few more days they'd
have a few more soldiers to undergo the MEC procedure. Bradford
and Van Doorn had identified some potential candidates, and they
would be brought to the Citadel soon.
He'd been relatively surprised that the Council had been quiet
through the whole leaked video incident. The fact that they'd not
commented on it at all either meant they'd finally accepted that he
had things under control or they were getting ready to depose him,
the former he thought was more likely. It was probably only because
of the quick response though, any later and the Council would likely
be jumping all over him.
Now though, there were new concerns. With XCOM finally using the
MELD, he'd actually have to pay attention to their stores. They had
an enormous surplus now, but they'd need to raid a few more UFOs
to keep that same stockpile. They weren't concerned about running
out yet, but a few months down the line might be a different story.
But now he was more focused on the future. Of XCOM, the Council,
United Nations and humanity itself. There were a few more countries
that he was looking to forming alliances with, and that was
highlighting a potential issue in the future. The funding that XCOM
was getting from this was good, but it wasn't going to be enough.
Unfortunately, easier said than done. The only chance they had was
one, single, united military comprised of the majority of nations in the
world, directed with the sole purpose of pushing back the aliens. The
countries they were allied with now would try to use the tech as best
they could, but they were isolated, restricted and ultimately not a
threat on their own.
In theory, that was what the purpose of the United Nations should
have been. An actual power instead of a toothless congress. But
since the UN wasn't like that, it complicated things.
Unfortunately for them, he wouldn't let that happen. He had plans for
XCOM, and plans to solve the issue of the inevitable full-scale
invasion that would be coming soon.
He ended up being correct, though it was not just one soldier. Two.
Patricia and Creed walked in, Patricia clearly uneasy about
something and Creed as stoic as usual. He really was a lot bigger
than her, and Patricia wasn't a small woman.
Both of them exchanged a look, Creed motioning with his eyes that
she should continue. Interesting. Very few things could rattle Patricia,
so whatever this was, it was important. "You told me to update you
on any developments with my psionics," Patricia began, brushing her
hair behind her ears. "Well, there had been."
Ah, now that made more sense. There were only a few reasons for
her apprehension, all of which had positives, negatives and security
risks. He raised an eyebrow. "Explain."
The fact that she was getting better passively was news in it of itself.
Even if it seemed to be random, it was making Patricia either very
useful, or very dangerous. Fortunately, he didn't feel he had to worry
much with her. She was trustworthy. "Since you're here, I assume it
was successful?" He asked, shooting his gaze up at Creed quickly.
"She read your mind."
"I mean I put what I wanted in his head and he didn't know," Patricia
finished grimly.
"You have another word for it?" The Commander asked, raising an
eyebrow. " Useful would be another. Though you're probably
focusing on concerning, or dangerous . Both of which are true."
"You too as well, Commander," she said, saluting him and inclining
her head. "Thank you for understanding and trusting me."
"You've earned it," the Commander nodded. "We'll likely need you
soon, so be ready. Dismissed. You as well, Creed. Watch out for
her."
He gave a small smile. "Of course, Commander." Than he saluted
and left the room with Patricia.
Despite what he'd said, Patricia did have a very valid concern about
the abuse of psionics. There would be more eventually, and he likely
wouldn't trust them nearly as much. There had to be some kind of
counter to them, beyond him being psionic himself, which was a
reasons he'd started Vahlen working on her own personal
Manchurian Candidate project.
The doors hissed open and Zhang was standing in front of a lit
holotable showing what looked like an air base of some kind. His
Intelligence Director was looking at a tablet, though it was angled so
that he couldn't see exactly what was on it. A second later Zhang
looked up and set it down. "Commander, good."
"A little over a week ago, some suspected EXALT agents started
moving all at once," Zhang continued, clasping his hands behind his
back. " All of them, which is strange to begin with. I'm not exactly
sure what prompted that, but it allowed us to pinpoint a few more
potential operatives, and thanks to that, we were able to trace one
such operative back to an unmarked airstrip guarded by our friend
from Russia."
The Commander smiled at that. "I think our soldiers will enjoy
displaying the new Gauss weapons to them. Not to mention our
armor can take sustained laser blasts. Theirs can't."
"We can attack from virtually any angle," Zhang told him, motioning
at the hologram. "The warehouse is unprotected, and the majority of
soldiers are at the front."
"Not if we hit hard and fast," Zhang pointed out. "They're just as
limited, and our Gauss weapons might bypass the cover entirely. If
they can punch through alien steel, a few metal boxes might not be
as safe as they think."
The Commander's lips curled into a smile. "That's what I'm counting
on. This is what we'll do."
"So where are you placed in the Atlas Protocol?" Samuel asked as
he moved a piece across the board. He picked up a card. "Everyone
pay me fifty."
Though Soran wasn't far behind. This marked the first time he'd
actually played the game and was surprised how much he was
enjoying it. It was just the right mix of strategy, bluffing and luck. Not
an easy feat, and it helped that the objective of the game was pretty
simple, but subtle.
Shun leaned forward and grabbed the dice. "I'm hangar defense,"
she answered as she rolled the dice. Soran crossed his arms as she
moved her piece.
"Pay up," he prodded, since she had a habit of trying to get out of
paying rent by casually passing the dice to the next person.
She grimaced and almost tossed the colored money to him. "This is
such an awful game."
Soran snorted. "Come on, you really think I'm going to fall for that.
Counter-offer, Indiana for Oriental."
She scowled for a few minutes, then finally muttered. "Fine," and
handed over Indiana and he gave her Oriental. Suppressing a smile,
he placed the card into his completed monopoly. Perfect, now he
arguably had the lead. A few rounds of him not landing on Samuel's
gauntlet of houses, and he could create his own gauntlet.
It only took them a few minutes to get fully suited up. Once Soran put
his helmet on and let the HUD initialize, he grabbed the new Gauss
rifle that had been distributed to all the soldiers. It had been
emphasized that both weapons had their strengths and weaknesses,
but he was curious to try the newest XCOM tech.
The armory itself had also been revamped, with a much larger
assortment of weapons and gear that hadn't really been available
before. He'd decided to bring an additional med-kit in case it was
needed, and several AP grenades as well. The Gauss rifle was much
heavier than the laser rifle, but it seemed a lot… sturdier, for lack of
a better word.
This was a solid weapon, and felt like a solid weapon. He'd shot it a
few times and it was without a doubt the most powerful weapon he'd
wielded.
With both of them geared up, they both exchanged a look. "Ready?"
Soran asked.
Samuel gripped his rifle. "Always. Let's go."
"Is there are reason you're all looking up?" Samuel prodded
humorously as they approached. "Distractions aren't good before a
mission."
"Just look," one of them stated, definitely a Russian from his accent.
How the… it had to be at least twenty feet high, if she, yes, it looked
like a woman. If she was stuck, why wasn't anyone-"
Carmelita. That had to be her voice. But how was she..? "Soran?
Samuel? Glad you could see this demonstration."
She hit the ground with a loud thud, her knees slightly bent before
standing up straight. How the hell. "You should probably explain
what we missed," Soran stated tonelessly. "Like how you did… that
."
"Oh, I'm very much looking forward to testing them out," Carmelita
said as she flexed her wrist and fingers. Her tone was uncomfortably
eager as she reached for the rifle on her back.
"CT agents," Samuel confirmed. "Nice. Glad you're joining the fight."
"Here I thought that Aluma would get all the attention," Galia
muttered as she walked up to join their impromptu circle. Soran
looked down to see her dog in… armor . Actual armor.
Samuel also looked down, then quickly looked back up. "I feel I
stepped into some alternate timeline where really weird stuff starts
happening."
Alexei snorted. "Welcome to XCOM, I guess. A lot odder than I
expected."
The hanger doors hissed open and Patricia, Myra and another new
soldier walked through. Fallen Sky was also with them, already
suited up. It was going to be different now that the skyrangers could
hold eight soldiers instead of six. Add in Myra and this strike force
got a lot more powerful.
The fact that Myra was also coming told him that this was going to
be an important mission. "Load up!" Patricia called, the Gauss
Autocannon on her back almost half her size. "We've got some
EXALT soldiers to kill!"
"Yes, Overseer!" They called out and quickly boarded the skyranger.
Skyranger, En route to LZ
ISOF. Hmm, he wasn't completely sure, but he thought that was the
Iraqi special forces branch. Interesting that they were contributing to
XCOM, though he supposed it wasn't unexpected. "What's the op,
Overseer?" Samuel asked.
" You will have an important role for this one, Specialist Alba," the
voice of the Commander interrupted. "One suited to your new
abilities."
" EXALT is utilizing alien technology. I'd prefer that it was not
damaged, should they be housing anything. But this is not a recover
op, Overseer. Don't damage the computers, though they'll likely wipe
them once we hit."
"Some of the staff are likely to be workers," Soran pointed out. "What
do we do if we encounter them?"
" Take them captive if possible," the Commander ordered. "If they
attack, kill them. I will leave them to your discretion. Captives are
useful, but not necessary."
Patricia set a small black device on the floor of the skyranger and
pressed a button on the side. It flashed and a miniature hologram of
what Soran assumed was the mission area appeared. It was very
basic, but he could clearly make out the airstrip and warehouse.
" Carmelita will scout ahead," the Commander said. "We'll know the
terrain before the attack. The cover of darkness will also help."
"I'll keep to the woods," Carmelita said, resting her forearms on her
legs. "You'll have what you need before the attack."
"Once we know what we're facing, we'll attack from the front,"
Patricia pointing to the airstrip area in front of the warehouse. "We'll
entrench here, and draw as many out as possible."
" We want to direct all their attention to the front," the Commander
continued. "Keep them contained in the area in front of the
warehouse. Don't let them flank you. We have the technological
advantage here."
Soran looked over at the odd rifle. He'd not taken a closer look, but it
was clearly not Gauss, laser or ballistic. The barrel was much too
wide and it had quite a few more tubes on it than normal.
"Symbiote?" He asked, looking around.
"You know the green stuff the aliens put in their abduction pods?"
Carmelita asked, pulling out a pure black grenade-like ball. "This is
XCOM's version. EXALT won't be able to get out of this easily."
" That should be enough to wipe out the majority of EXALT soldiers,"
the Commander finished. "The rest will likely retreat to within the
warehouse."
There was one major piece that was missing here. "Is Myra going to
come down with the initial attack?" Soran asked.
" I assume EXALT will have means to secure the warehouse beyond
the ordinary," the Commander continued. "They'll likely try to force
you into a choke point. Patricia, can you disrupt them?"
Soran frowned at that, since he wasn't really sure how she could do
anything the rest of them couldn't. "I can," she assured the
Commander. "As long as there are few distractions."
Right. Except that she was psionic. She must have improved if she
was being ordered to use her abilities. Samuel also seemed initially
confused. "How could you disrupt them from outside?"
Almost everyone except Soran and the new soldiers leaned back or
started in surprise. "You're what? " Samuel demanded, sounding
more confused than angry.
"Psionic," she repeated neutrally. "I'll tell you the full thing later if you
want, but all that you need to know now is that I can use it against
EXALT and the aliens."
" Overseer Trask's psionic abilities are known and are not a danger
to you," the Commander interjected, his voice firm even through the
speakers. "Do not let this disrupt the mission. Good luck. Citadel
Command, out."
The line clicked dead. "I wondered if humans could ever use psionic
abilities," Pavel said, looking over at Patricia. "I guess I was right.
How did it happen?"
"By accident," was her curt response. "Like I said, I'll explain it later if
you're really interested."
Apparently no one was going to ask the basic question of what she
could actually do . Probably because no one wanted to know exactly
what she could do when they were heading into a battle. Much
harder to focus on the enemy when you were wondering if your
superior could read your thoughts.
After a while, the lights flashed to a solid red and the voice of Fallen
Sky came on. "This is Fallen Sky to Piston Team, we're coming in for
a landing. Stand by."
Soran felt them dip sharply and slowly lose acceleration. Gripping his
rifle, he waited for the order. "Prepare to deploy!" Patricia ordered,
standing and taking the front, ready to charge out. Soran took a
position behind her, Samuel to his side as they all stood ready as the
skyranger got ever closer to the ground.
With a final shake, they hit the ground and the ramp deployed with a
hiss. Soran was instantly hit with a burst of rain as it opened,
showing a forest receiving the full force of an unexpected
thunderstorm.
"Deploy!" Patricia ordered and they charged out into the pelting rain
to bring retribution on EXALT.
Japan
"I would have thought they would have mentioned the rain," Jamali
commented as they walked through the sheets of white water
coming down upon them, dripping off their armor and weapons.
"Yes, Overseer," Carmelita saluted and charged off to the right into
the woods at full speed, leaving them behind within the woods.
Soran wasn't all that bothered by the rain, the armor was sealed
enough that he really didn't feel the wetness, at least not yet.
Patricia turned back to the rest of the squad. "We'll wait for her to get
into position, then we'll march straight until we reach the open field.
Remember, we want them to notice us."
He could hear the grin in Samuel's voice. "I wonder what they'll be
thinking."
Alexei rested his rifle on his shoulder. "What any soldier should feel
when they see seven heavily armored soldiers walking towards them
in the rain. Fear ."
Soran wasn't exactly convinced that EXALT soldiers would have that
particular response, that was what he'd expect from normal militaries
or police forces. Then again, these might not be EXALT soldiers
proper, they might just be guards, not used to combat.
"Copy," Patricia answered and each of them clicked the gear on their
helmets that allowed them to sync with another soldier's feed. Soran
opted for full conversion instead of overlay. His HUD flashed and he
saw the real-life version of the holographic area he'd seen earlier.
There were few guards, as was expected during a storm like this.
Eight of the EXALT guards stood in groups of two relatively close to
the warehouse, four of them actually guarding the door, the rest by
various crates of supplies. All of them looked thoroughly miserable.
They walked through the woods, stepping over wet branches and
slick foliage as they made their way silently to the end. Mud caking
their boots, already washing off from the rain, they stepped out onto
an open field, the grass slick with rain. Up ahead Soran could see
the concrete airstrip and warehouse.
Soran raised his rifle as did the rest of them, Samuel to his right and
Patricia to his left. Side by side they marched forward through the
pelting rain and midnight moon. The grass softened their footsteps
and the rain drowned out any other noise they made.
Soran could now see the EXALT guards, though they didn't seem to
notice the soldiers approaching them yet. Soran lined up a shot on
the closest one, the blonde-haired man fiddling with his soaked red
bandanna. He wouldn't have to worry about that much longer.
"Wait for it…." Patricia growled as they finally stepped onto the
tarmac.
"嘿!" Someone called from the warehouse. The EXALT guards looked
over towards them now, already reaching for their weapons as they
realized they were under attack.
The area lit up with red beams as EXALT began firing back with their
laser weapons. Soran and Samuel charged towards the nearest
cover and began firing back. EXALT had also scattered towards
cover and began exchanging their own fire.
Soran raised his weapon and surveyed the situation. "Two across
from us!" He called out, shooting a few rounds in their direction
which missed. Now more EXALT soldiers were coming out of the
warehouse. "More coming!"
"I see them," Patricia growled as she sprayed weapon fire across the
field, forcing all the soldiers to either duck into cover or dive onto the
ground. Several screams rang out as Alexei and Galia scored hits on
the soldiers.
Soran heard Galia yell something in Hebrew and Aluma charged out
from behind cover towards a trio of EXALT guards running up. They
all shouted in surprise as the enraged German Shepard leapt at one
of them and began tearing his throat out. The two soldiers stumbled
back and raised their weapons, clearly not sure if they wanted to fire
for fear of hitting their comrade.
Their decision was cut short as Gauss rounds from Galia and Jamali
hit them both in the chest and head and they collapsed to the
ground. Aluma finished, her muzzle caked with blood and charged
back to Galia's position.
"One down," Soran called out, as yet more soldiers came out of the
warehouse. There had to be at least fifteen now, excluding corpses.
Now through, they were entrenched and the firefight had stabilized to
a degree. Now all they needed was Carmelita and Myra. A glint
through the rain caught his eye in the back of the EXALT line and his
eyes widened as he realized what it was.
So he jumped.
"Agreed!" Patricia called as laser raised around her. One grazed her
chest, leaving a smoking black mark. "Citadel Command, bring in
Myra. Carmelita! Pin them here!"
Carmelita raised her rifle as laser beams shot past her head.
"Pinning them now."
Soran raised his rifle towards the EXALT soldiers still entrenched
before him. They seemed frozen mid-motion as they tried to figure
out who to fire at. Soran took advantage, lined up the shot and blew
the man's face off and Samuel took out the EXALT woman beside
him eliciting one final scream.
A roar from above caught his attention and Soran looked up to see
the MEC transport fly overhead and stop over the remaining. EXALT
soldiers. A few seconds later, Myra dropped down and landed on a
trapped EXALT soldier with a sharp crunch.
The EXALT soldiers were in full panic mode, the ones not trapped
running into the warehouse and shouting in Chinese while trying to
avoid getting trapped by Carmelita shooting at them. The trapped
ones just fired at Myra and any XCOM soldier who advanced close
to them. Myra raised her MEC's wrists and cones of flame shot out,
engulfing the soldiers closest to her.
Carmelita closed the gap within a second, grabbed his firing arm and
snapped it with the ease of a piece of wet wood. The man screamed
and Carmelita then repeated the same procedure with his trapped
arm. The rest of the EXALT soldiers were dead or inside the
warehouse except for him, his screams only growing louder when
Carmelita placed her boot on his chest and slammed him to the
blood-slicked tarmac, twisting his arm beyond recognition.
"I can cut an entrance on the roof," Carmelita stated as she drew his
laser pistol. "Just give the word when ready to breach."
"Go," Patricia ordered and Carmelita nodded and jumped onto the
roof with a clang . It was going to take a while to get used to that.
"Alexei, Pavel, Myra; go to the back and prepare entrance."
The soldier nodded and all charged off to their respective positions.
Once they were gone, Patricia walked up to warehouse entrance
sliding door which was locked of course. Soran took a position on
the right side and Galia took the other, Aluma by her side.
Patricia just stood in the middle, rested the barrel of her weapon on
the slick ground and rested her palm on the door. Nothing happened
at first, but Soran soon saw a slight distortion around her, even
visible through the rain as Patricia exercised her powers.
"There are fifteen inside," Patricia muttered, her voice distant. "Some
armed, some not. One has a rocket launcher. I think eight are
workers, several are clustered together in one room, more terrified
than the rest."
Galia looked at Patricia once she'd finished and Soran didn't really
blame her. It was eerie the first time experiencing something like this,
it was natural or normal. But she didn't say anything and let Patricia
continue. "Go in on my signal," she continued, her voice still distant.
Over the next few minutes Soran was distinctly aware of things…
changing, for lack of a better word. He was calm, focused, things
were clearer than they should be. He felt… connected in waiting for
one signal which he would know instinctively.
Without thinking he drew his laser pistol and noticed Galia doing the
same. The hand Patricia had placed on the warehouse door closed
into a fist and an explosion from inside rocked the immediate area.
Soran instinctively stepped back and began firing a sustained laser,
beginning to cut large enough hole for one person to enter.
Patricia kicked the piece of metal that had been cut in front of her
and stormed into the warehouse and like that the trance he'd only
been partially aware of was broken. It was then he realized that he
and Galia had cut perfectly symmetrical halves of that door. No time
to think about that, instead he charged inside to see five EXALT
soldiers circled around each other as an explosion opposite Soran,
Patricia and Galia revealed Myra with Alexei and Pavel.
A perfect square of metal fell from the ceiling and Carmelita fell
through and hit the ground with a clang. That was enough to break
the EXALT soldiers out of their trance but it was far too late. They'd
made the mistake of grouping together which only resulted in Myra
simply raising her arm and shooting one cone of flame from her
wrist, incinerating them instantly.
Even if that hadn't happened, the hail of rounds from Patricia, Soran,
Carmelita and Galia ensured that they died quick and instant deaths.
The charred and bullet-riddled corpses felt to the ground as the
XCOM soldiers converged into the center of the warehouse. Crates
were stacked in the corners, but it was mostly empty.
It was then Soran noticed a trio of EXALT soldier corpses they hadn't
killed. Except these seemed to be blow apart and various body parts
were scattered around the immediate area. The remaining chunks of
flesh were riddled with shrapnel, bone and charred skin. Soran
looked at Patricia. "What did you do to them?"
Soran pursed his lips, but refrained from commenting as they lined
outside the door. "This where the workers are?" Carmelita asked,
pulling out her blade.
" Take the leader prisoner," the Commander answered. "Execute the
rest."
The newer soldiers, including Samuel looked at each other after that.
Patricia betrayed nothing, if she was even concerned at all.
"Weapons ready," she ordered as she stormed up to the door and
slammed her fist against it. "Everybody out now! Or we will open
fire!"
If Soran had heard that, he'd have been running to get out as fast as
possible. Patricia stepped back and raised her autorifle. The door
handle moved slowly and the door opened to reveal six men and
women in EXALT attire come out, hands raised and looking
absolutely terrified.
They all nodded, even the woman who'd been shot. "Who is in
charge?" Patricia repeated.
"I am," one of the workers, an older man with graying hair
stammered out. "I'm the chief inventory manager."
She lowered it and let her weapon drop to the floor as she took a
step towards the man. " You are in charge?"
"Yes."
Carmelita nodded and raised her pistol and fired again, this time
shooting the head which exploded, splattering the nearby workers
and Patricia with blood and brains. The now traumatized workers
were now openly crying and shaking as Patricia paced in front of
them. Without missing a beat, she continued.
"I will ask again, who is in charge? We will repeat this as many times
as necessary."
"Me!" A woman stammered out, her black hair stained with the blood
of her co-worker. "It's me!"
Patricia stared at her for a few seconds. The motioned Alexei and
Pavel forward. "Take her, she's the one." They stepped forward and
hauled the woman away without any resistance.
Now all they had to do was finish the last command. The remained
EXALT worker's eyes filled with renewed fear as they realized what
was going to happen. Soran raised his rifle, though with some
reluctance as he took aim at the man closest to him.
" Wait."
That… was not what he'd expected, and now Soran was unsure that
letting these workers keep their lives was merciful or not. The
Commander wouldn't take them unless he had a use for them, and
from what he knew of the Commander, that use would not end well
for them regardless.
Their orders clear, they moved to secure their new captives, all the
while Soran wondered if he was doing the right thing.
After-Action Report
Operation: Titanfall
Personnel:
Status: Active
Kills: 7
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 4
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 4
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Status: Active
Kills: 1
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Status: Active
Kills: 8
Artifacts Recovered:
-50x Assorted Living Equipment
It was a rare moment of uncertainty for her, one she only allowed in
private moments like this. But the latest attack was unsettling her far
more than she could admit to anyone else. She'd expected XCOM
would try some kind of reprisal, but one not nearly as devastating or
brutal as the recent attack on the Japan cargo transfer base.
XCOM had ruined the security cameras and taken all the computers
so they had no actual record of the actual attack, and hadn't
responded quickly enough when the distress signal was activated.
But the carnage left behind painted a pretty clear picture. The
shortest explanation was that XCOM had shown up and wiped
everybody out.
Adding another layer to how the attack was carried out, quite a few
of the corpses had some kind of black substance attached to them,
keeping them in place even in death. Another weapon of XCOM,
probably. Whatever the case, they'd taken the weapons, supplies,
alien tech and workers.
That concerned her most of all. At one point she wouldn't have been
overly worried since she knew the UN wouldn't get anything out of
them, and that they could be located and eventually released.
But she didn't think she could rely on that anymore. It felt to her now
that XCOM was part of the UN in name only. Civilized countries
weren't this brutal and thorough. Not usually.
She closed her eyes, wishing he would have told her differently, that
it was a fluke and wouldn't happen again. But he'd not lie to her just
to make her feel better, it was one reason she loved him. "I was
afraid of that. How can we last all these years and yet one
organization threatens what we've built?"
As much as she hated to admit it, she didn't exactly think he was
wrong. Most of the time they were virtually unchallenged in every
aspect, the resistance they faced was never directed specifically
towards EXALT, instead it was various people just opposed to the
agendas, laws, and ideas they tried to press, and even those people
gave way in the end.
XCOM was different. It couldn't be controlled at the moment, and
didn't appear to be controlled by anyone. Whoever their commander
was, they were doing everything they could to locate, pinpoint and
destroy EXALT.
"So tell me," Ethan said as he shifted to look at her. "What are you
going to do about it, Director?"
It might not have been the best time for discussing retaliation, but
Saudia didn't care they were having it in a bed. Both of them
exhausted. It needed to happen and they might not get a chance
tomorrow. "Figure out where we went wrong, and fix it," she
answered quietly. "Then we send a message to XCOM, something
that will actually hurt them instead of that stunt Elizabeth tried to pull.
Then we prepare for their attack."
Ethan's voice was sleepy, but she could hear the approval in it.
"Good idea. I think it's time we utilize the Venators for defense of our
major bases. If we can't predict XCOM attacks, Venator soldiers will
be better than ordinary guards."
Some families wouldn't like that, but Saudia would be able to easily
overrule them, and she privately suspected that most would
appreciate it, even if they wouldn't say so publically. "I'll be going to
see Elizabeth and Diguon tomorrow, I'll be telling them that."
"Then let's get some sleep," Ethan suggested, putting his arm
around her and she sleepily grabbed his wrist and closed her eyes.
"We've got a busy day tomorrow."
That they did. Saudia leaned back into Ethan, eventually falling
asleep to the sound of his rhythmic breathing.
He said it without malice, but his words cut because they were
ultimately truthful. Still, she allowed nothing to show on her face. "I'm
going to speak to her personally now. She understands her position
is at stake."
"Then let her prove me wrong," the Chronicler shrugged. "But in the
meantime, I'll see what I can do on my own."
"Do you have people we don't know about?" Saudia asked, more
lightly than what her words implied. She knew he likely didn't have
anyone they didn't already know about. "Because I'm not sure what
you can do that one of our agents can't?"
"Good," Saudia turned away and began heading towards the door.
"You'll accompany me to Europe and then take a flight to America.
Meet me at the plan by the end of the hour."
But now she had to make a quick, but important goodbye. She
stopped in front of Martel's room and quickly knocked. "Come in!"
she heard him call and thumbed the door open which slid open with
a hiss.
He'd cleaned up his room since she'd last been in, much to her
surprise. He was a brilliant young boy, but his organizational skills
did need to be honed a bit. She suspected he'd done it out of
boredom than anything else, but it was better than nothing. Martel
was sitting in front his computer, headphones on playing some
game.
She leaned against the doorframe and watched him for a few
minutes as he was completely absorbed by the game. It appeared to
be a strategy one of some kind, she was actually fairly sure she'd
seen it before as well. She'd grown up in an era before this kind of
entertainment became popular, and was somewhat sad because of
it. Unfortunately her life didn't allow much time for distractions like
these, but Martel did deserve some fun before too much
responsibility entered his life.
She came over by him and knelt in front of him until she was eye
level. "I hope you finished your studies before getting too deeply into
that, yes?"
She smiled at him. "Good job. Can you do that for a few more days
without anyone prompting you?"
"I will," he promised, his smile fading. "Are you leaving again?"
She sighed. "I'm afraid so. Your Father will still be here, but he might
be busy."
His eyes widened. "The spy! Are you going to have her spy on
people?"
She chuckled at that. "Well, that is what she does. So yes, I am."
"How long will you be gone?" He finally asked, excitement visibly
fading.
"Hopefully not more than a few days," she promised. "But before I
leave, I wanted to give you something. Your birthday is coming up,
but I thought it'd be ok to give you something a bit early." She
reached to her waist and pulled out a smaller version of the laser
pistol that had been distributed to EXALT personnel.
It hadn't been an easy decision to come too. Ethan had been for it, of
course, but she hadn't seen the need for him to have his own
weapon for a few more years. Seven, soon to be eight-year-olds
didn't need their own personal firearms. But the times warranted it.
Like it or not, attacks on EXALT were happening and she wouldn't
have felt comfortable without leaving her own son some way to
defend himself. With the aliens now having a tendency to show up
unannounced, she just felt better knowing he wouldn't be unarmed.
He knew how to use a gun, and he'd get better with practice. She'd
also specifically ordered this weapon be constructed a little smaller
to fit his hands. She trusted him to use it responsibly, but still felt the
need to remind him. "This isn't a toy," she stated firmly, looking him
square in the eye. "Don't use it unless absolutely necessary, or for
target practice. Got it?"
"Good," she pulled him into a tight hug and they stayed that way for
a few seconds. "I'll miss you," she told him softly. "But I'll be back
soon."
"Ok," he answered. "Thank you."
He gave a sad wave. "Goodbye," she gave him one last smile and
then exited the room. He'd be fine and she could feel a little better
about his safety. Now she needed to focus on the tasks ahead and
began mentally preparing as she headed towards the hangar.
He did have to admit that they looked like authentic Secret Service
knockoffs. He supposed it was better than looking like obvious
imitations. A shame he was here for business though, because he
rather liked the city so far. It would be an excellent place to vacation
too after all this was sorted out. He wouldn't want to live here;
America wasn't the place for him, but he could admire the places
within it.
But he wasn't here for that. They had a company to investigate and
he figured they might as well go to the source. Solaris Industry HQ
would answer their questions, one way or another. The tricky part
was, of course, going to be actually getting the answers. Cerian had
a sneaking suspicion that they wouldn't let him in if they just asked.
" Yes and no," she answered, sounding distant as she probably
typed. "Ok, I think I have a secure watch point. You can head back,
I'll explain then."
The seat next to him moved slightly and he looked over at Ren who
sat down. He blended in quite normally with civilian attire, and
probably wouldn't attract any unwanted attention. In theory. Solaris
guards were likely trained well. "What did you see?" Cerian asked,
looking back towards Solaris HQ.
"They don't play around with security," Ren answered. "We all took a
different side, and all the sides did have emergency exits. But all of
them had at least two guards. Even the fire escape had one on the
top of the stairs."
"All the doors are probably wired in case someone tries to enter,"
Cerian muttered, thinking. "They probably have even more inside."
"Likely," Ren agreed, pulling out his phone. "I got some pictures. All
the doors also seem to have slots to put in some kind of card.
Probably for the guards."
Cerian set his glass on the table. "We're finished here. Tell everyone
to meet back at the safe house."
Ren reached back and put his sunglasses on again. "On it. See you
there."
Cerian returned his attention to Solaris HQ, pondering the best form
of entry as he sipped his water. He'd wait a few minutes before
leaving to avoid attracting suspicion if anyone was watching. If he
were EXALT, he'd likely have a few people in disguise within the
crowds to watch potential spies. Although he was fairly good at
spotting such people, and hadn't here.
He looked down at his watch. Time to head back, there was a lot to
do and prepare. He stood and made his way over to the exit. It didn't
take him long to find a bus stop, and after a few minutes additional
wait, boarded one and sat in the front end. A perfectly inconspicuous
position that wouldn't attract attention, and in this case his age would
help. No one suspected an older man of anything unless they were
politicians or rich. In his experience, it was usually both.
The room they had based in was on the second floor, and as Cerian
made his way up, fingered the key in his hand. He'd considered
splitting to several rooms in case one was compromised, but figured
that if they were ever compromised, everything else would be as
well, at least if their opposition were halfway competent.
Instead he'd rented rooms across different parts of Seattle, all under
different aliases of course, in case the one here was compromised.
Reaching the door, he inserted the card and entered.
And stared down the barrel of a pistol held by Olivia. After confirming
it was him, she put the weapon away a few seconds later. "I think
there's one of those eyeholes on the door," Cerian commented wryly,
amused as he looked at her. "It might be safer than aiming a weapon
against whoever comes through the door."
"Yes," Olivia confirmed as she sank into a seat. "Not doing much, as
you can see."
He could, and didn't really blame them. Ren and Darril were playing
chess in the corner, Mary was laying on one of the two beds, typing
away on her laptop as usual. Bastion was reading something on the
other bed, though all of them looked up as he walked in. "Break
over," Cerian announced as he went over by Mary. "So, what can
you tell me?"
Mary pulled out her headphones and looked up, and swung her legs
over the side of the bed and rested her feet on the ground to face
him. "Right," she began as the rest of them converged around her.
"The good news is that I can get inside Solaris Industries security
systems. I can't tell exactly what's on there, but there's some degree
of weaponized automation, possibly turrets. I would also guess
cameras and mechanized doors."
Olivia frowned at that. "Can't you just go in, look around, leave and
then find another hole to exploit later? Seems better than only one
shot."
"It's nice that you can get into their security," Cerian redirected. "But
what about accessing their servers. We're here for information,
remember."
"Yes…" Mary let out. "That. The short version is that I can't access
them remotely. All the servers are local and cannot be accessed
wirelessly. They were smart when they set this up. I won't even be
able to access it if you directly give me access to the server. All I can
do is locate what drive has the information we want."
That was going to make this difficult, but not impossible. "Then we
need a way to enter Solaris Industries. Preferably without drawing
attention."
"If I had one of their keys, I could make some fake IDs," Mary told
him. "But short of kidnapping one of the guards, I'm not sure we
could get one without someone noticing."
Olivia smiled as she realized where this was going. "Ah, I see.
Perhaps we can pay one of them a visit when they're not fully
conscious."
Abby raised an eyebrow as she read the list. "Vahlen's been busy.
Very busy."
"Interesting, isn't it?" Ruth asked as she leaned against the wall with
her arms crossed. "Some of the soldiers are calling it humanity's
'next evolution.'" She snorted at that, but still seemed in good spirits.
Abby frowned. "You don't think so? Improved eyesight, strength and
stamina seem like some kind of evolution, even if not a drastic one."
Abby didn't entirely agree with that. This may not be evolution in the
traditional sense, but it was self-created and controlled evolution
without a doubt. Stuff that had been debated and theorized about in
science for decades, and was now actually happening before her.
She'd always assumed it would be with prosthetics and robotics,
since they were easier to create and develop. But genetic
modification on this scale was something she hadn't expected for a
few decades, if not longer.
"So are you going to undergo anything?" She asked Ruth, looking up
once again.
Ruth pursed her lips. "Perhaps. But I've disliked using performance
enhancers, even if they give me an edge. I haven't needed them
before, and likely won't now."
"Maybe I don't want them messing with my body," Ruth cut off
sharply, raising a hand.
Abby smiled as she suddenly got why Ruth was so defensive about
this. "You're uncomfortable about all this."
Ruth practically glared at her, it wasn't mean, but certainly wasn't a
friendly look. "Yes. Took you long enough to get the hint."
"Why?" Abby asked curiously, setting the tablet down. "I would have
thought you'd be all for this kind of advantage?"
Ruth raised an eyebrow. " Really, " she drawled. "I suppose you
haven't see the two of them lately. I'm not sure the Commander is
fully objective when it comes to her."
Oh right, Abby knew what she was talking about now. "I thought that
was just a rumor."
"I'm sure it is," Ruth agreed, smirking slightly. "But trust me, I know.
They both like each other and I doubt either of them would deny it if
asked."
Abby sighed. Knowing Ruth she was probably right about it. "Too
bad,"
"Likely," Ruth agreed. "But you don't always control who you meet in
your life or who you like. I don't think it's unrealistic to think
something could have happened, especially since they work closely
together. He likely has a different view of her too, people tend to act
differently around people they like, not necessarily purposefully
either."
Abby shook her head. "It's really none of our business, and we've
gotten way off topic. I think I'll undergo the modification. Maybe
prove that it's not going to kill you."
Ruth raised an eyebrow. "I'll wait for the second round, once all the
kinks are worked out. The mods will probably be a little more stable
then."
"Suit yourself," Abby answered, looking at the empty desk. "So when
was Zhang supposed to come up?"
"I'd assume soon," Ruth guessed, walking over to the desk and
picking up one of the folders. "He's probably taking with the
Commander or something."
Abby eyed the file in her hand. "You sure you should have that?"
"Probably not," Ruth sighed and reluctantly set the file down. "I really
hate it when people leave folders out that likely contain some very
secret and interesting information."
"You don't know for sure," Abby pointed out. "That might just be a
basic leger."
Abby looked at the powerless holotable. "So where do you think he'll
be sending us next?"
"But it makes them pretty damn suspicious," Ruth muttered, her eyes
turning hard. "Even if it was questionable, we don't ask questions like
that. Very few things are certain in this job, and we have to trust our
superiors know what they are doing. Thinking otherwise only leads to
unnecessary problems. Trust me on that."
The center hub was a massive room with about half of it dedicated to
rows of computers of various types and speeds, the other half had
several small holotables where agents and operatives stood around
discussing various figures or locations. Screens covered the walls,
most of them playing a different news station from around the world.
Several were dedicated to showing active agents and deployment
locations.
Directly at the far left was an elevated room with a glass window,
allowing whoever was inside to look over the main hub. Naturally, it
was Elizabeth's office. Grandiose, and what she considered
unnecessary, but Elizabeth was in charge here and since it didn't
overly affect efficiency, Saudia didn't see a reason to think about it
too much.
She climbed the stairs and punched in her override code into the
door, which then slid open noiselessly and stepped inside. A
holotable was directly off to the left, and turned on, though Saudia
didn't bother to look what it was exactly. Filing cabinets were built
directly into the walls and several additional screens dotted the walls
and the newscasters speaking provided decent background noise.
Elizabeth herself stood leaning against the wall by the window, not
using her desk as usual. She'd never really liked sitting in one place
for very long and often performed her work while pacing or doing
some kind of physical activity. Hence why several more tablets
rested on her desk for when the tablet she was holding inevitably ran
out of power.
"Likewise," Saudia agreed as she walked up. "I assume you have
some updates?"
"I have three agents watching every exit and have placed trackers
and cameras on the vehicles," Elizabeth stated firmly. "If they leave,
we will know about it."
Saudia lowered the tablet. "So we know where they are. What are
you planning?"
Elizabeth bit her lower lip. " That is something I felt should be
discussed with you. There are a couple options open to us," Saudia
motioned for her to continue. "One," Elizabeth continued, cracking
her knuckles. "We strike here and now. Take both of them into
custody now and return them to the Bastion as quickly as possible."
"That is our objective, yes?" Saudia pressed, raising an eyebrow.
"What else do you have in mind?"
Saudia pursed her lips. "Be careful with promises, Spymaster. They
have consequences."
Elizabeth's eyes bored into hers, cold with determination. "I'm well
aware of what's at stake, Director . You don't need to remind me."
Saudia met her gaze firmly. "Good. I suspect I know what you'll
advocate for, but I must ask what you want to do?"
"Put bluntly, we stand to gain more by waiting and seeing what they
do," Elizabeth answered nonchalantly. "Provided you can work
without your pet Fury for a few more days, we might gain a means to
infiltrate and sabotage XCOM."
Saudia was silent for a few moments. "Granted," she finally let out,
fixing a hard glare on Elizabeth. "However, if you even suspect that
they're onto you, I want them captured immediately. Understood?"
"I can only assume XCOM extracted what she knew, which might
have been the existence of our shell companies," Elizabeth
continued. "Yes, I ordered the most likely ones shut down, but I
suppose that I figured that our Russia plant wasn't among those
compromised. It shouldn't have been at any rate, but I can't think of
another way they could have found it aside from luck."
"If so, whoever did it did an excellent job," Elizabeth shrugged. "I've
found everything possible on her and she did attend and graduate
med school, she apparently did a short stint with the Marines but all
records seem to vanish a couple months after enlistment."
"No," Elizabeth let some curiosity slip into her voice. "And I found
that curious. It makes sense that XCOM would recruit her, but her
skills are suited to the battlefield, not intelligence work."
"I don't suppose you have an idea where they'll strike next?" Saudia
asked, setting the tablet down.
Elizabeth clasped her hands behind her back. "I do, actually. But you
won't like it."
"We can assume XCOM recovered the files showing the transfers of
money between Solaris Industries and our former smuggling plant,"
Elizabeth began slowly. "And even though I'm sure protocol was
followed on the recent attack, we can't rule out that they know the
location of the Mercado headquarters."
She'd been afraid of that, but wasn't overly surprised. "So hitting
bigger and bigger targets then."
"We're not taking chances this time," Saudia said after thinking a few
minutes. "Regardless of the low odds of an attack, I want them
prepared. All of the families prepared. The Venator family will be
providing additional security in case of an XCOM attack, as well as
our major bases."
Elizabeth frowned at that prospect, but fortunately didn't protest it. "If
you believe so, then do it."
Elizabeth walked past her towards the holotable and stood and the
end of it. Saudia walked over to the other end and looked down at
the map displayed. South America. Well, this should be interesting.
Elizabeth rested her hands on the holotable and looked directly at
Saudia, resolution in her eyes. "You wanted a direct blow against
XCOM? Here it is. I'm going to collapse the Brazilian government."
"No!" Elizabeth slammed her fist onto the holotable with a startling
bang . "I'm not 'sure' of anything, Director! Nothing is ever certain
here! I can make predictions . I can make plausible assumptions . I
can make the best possible guess with what I have but I cannot
completely guarantee everything will turn out just how I expect it!"
She began pacing, glaring with unrestrained frustration. "I can tell
you everything I know, sources, predications, statistics, but there's
always going to be outliers, odd scenarios where things don't go as
planned . I don't think you get that nothing goes as planned here .
The will be problems and issues, it's inevitable ." She let out a sharp
laugh. "You really think I can control every aspect of a collapsing
country? No, Director. No I can't. I can direct it. I can influence it. But
unfortunately, I can't read minds; I can't know for sure how the
government would react. Partially because you're threatening me!"
" Me?" Saudia demanded, her tone cold. "I have not threatened
you."
She spread her arms towards the window. " This is my life Director,
every possible moment is spent here. I pretty much live here these
days. While XCOM has become your focus, you seem to forget that
the world doesn't revolve around them."
She took a deep breath and walked back over to the holotable,
looking down at the map. "I'm throwing away months and years of
preparation to make you happy, Director. The least you could do is
trust me not to fuck it up."
Saudia wasn't quite sure the best way to respond after her outburst.
Elizabeth, or for the matter, anyone, had never talked to her like that.
Objectively, she could see how it could be warranted, but she didn't
appreciate being yelled at. She didn't exactly appreciate the
insinuation that she had it easy because she was the Director.
But she believed that this was partially her fault. Since Elizabeth had
looked torn between fury and bursting into tears, she suspected that
her words had unintentionally been the final straw that broke the
monstrous load of stress that had piled upon her. Out of all the
positions, Spymaster was admittedly the most stressful of the lot.
With that she walked out of the room, leaving her standing by the
holotable. With the extra incentive to succeed, Saudia was fairly
confident that things would turn out fine. Elizabeth might feel her
mistakes were justified with the amount of stress she was under, but
if she couldn't handle it, then someone else could. Appealing to
sympathy like that wasn't the most effective form of persuasion on
her, but she was willing to overlook it this time.
"Director," he greeted, not quite able to keep the surprise out of his
voice.
"Conway," she greeted cordially, inclining her head. "I trust you're
doing well?"
"Before you get too involved, I think you should go up to your wife,"
Saudia suggested, nodding towards the room where Elizabeth was.
"She could use a hug."
"Good," she patted him once on the shoulder. "Good day, Conway."
That done, she began heading back toward the hanger to fly to the
Mercados. She had an idea now how to prepare for the next XCOM
attack.
Because what was inside was a collection of the most advanced labs
and advanced technology in the world. It was a technical mecca that
was hidden inside the drab and gray concrete encasing it. Saudia
wondered if the citizens ever wondered what was inside. In the end,
it didn't matter. In accordance with the rest of the building, the
security was outstanding.
Autoturrets had been built into the ceilings of every floor at various
choke points. Entire floors could be locked down and flooded with
toxins if the situation called for it. The glass was bulletproof and the
foundation had been built to withstand every natural disaster
possible. In theory at least; China didn't usually have to worry about
that sort of thing and it couldn't be tested much outside simulations.
The point was that it was a death trap for any uninvited guests. The
only other locations that rivaled it in terms of sheer defensibility were
the Bastion and the Venator Stronghold. Should XCOM decide to
come here, they'd be in for quite the surprise.
Saudia stepped out and approached the glass doors. Unlike some
other buildings, the Mercado estate didn't have the helipad on the
very top roof. There was still a floor of rooms she could enter right
away. The true roof was above them, but she didn't really think about
it much. She pressed in her code on the pad that was just to the right
of the doors and it slid open a few seconds later.
She stepped into the Estate and observed the artistic pieces before
her. Lush carpets covered the floors and antique furniture was
placed strategically around the room. Her lips twitched into a smile
as she looked at the pieces before her. Diguon did enjoy collecting
odd-looking pieces of art, but some of his display pieces were just
bizarre.
The one before her looked like a large black pyramid, and aside from
looking neat, she didn't know why he'd chosen to display this one
front and center. Whatever, she didn't understand the fascination and
she didn't need to. Different tastes and all that. She turned to her
right and proceeded into the next room.
She finally stepped into the massive room that took up the rest of the
floor. It was wide open with the same carpets, furs and luxury
displayed everywhere else, though in the middle was an extension
that displayed a massive red hologlobe. It was raised above the
ground floor, making it seem like a depression around it.
Zara was wearing her combat attire as usual, with her plasma rifle
slung over her shoulder and bandanna around her neck. Diguon in
contrast was in an EXALT-issue white lab coat, which told her he'd
likely been working shortly before she showed up.
"I hope you haven't started too much without me," Saudia
commented as she walked up. Both of them turned as she walked
up.
"Glad you made it, Saudia," Zara also welcomed. "No, I just got here
too."
"Then let's get started," Saudia stated. "We're assuming all the
protocols were followed and the systems wiped during the Japan
attack, but there is a possibility that this Estate is compromised."
"But not invulnerable," Diguon pointed out. "You might wish a fight,
Zara, but my people are not soldiers like yours."
Saudia could see the Zara strain not to roll her eyes. "True, but you
have more than just soldiers at your disposal. With my soldiers
supporting you, XCOM will pay heavily to take this place."
"That could take time," Diguon warned. "We have quite a few
operations running-"
Saudia raised a fist, cutting him off. "Then I suggest you start
relocating as soon as possible. Better our projects be put on hold
than lose everything in the event of an attack."
Zara snorted. "Right. Assuming XCOM actually has the guts to
attack a skyscraper in China . That would be political suicide if they
attacked without informing the Chinese."
Diguon pursed his lips. "I see your reasoning, Director. I will begin
relocation immediately."
"Why the hell didn't she open with this?" Zara wondered. "Instead
of… whatever that stunt before was?"
"Caution and paranoia," Saudia sighed. "She likes hard facts and as
much information as possible. Admirable, but I've illustrated that
results are more important now. Actual results."
"About time," Zara muttered. "Well, hopefully she can pull that off. In
the meantime, I'll have my soldiers ready for an XCOM attack here."
"No," Saudia shook her head. "Not yet, but I wouldn't be surprised to
hear from them soon. They'll need to be reassured of our
capabilities. It'll be handled."
"Let's hope so," Zara muttered. "Good luck with that, Saudia. In the
meantime, I've got a trap to prepare."
"He likes to work on his own," Saudia confirmed with a sigh. "You
don't have to worry about him, though. He won't interfere in anything
you have planned."
Matthew pursed his lips. "He better not. But I'll take your word for it."
His eyes lit up. "Ah, excellent. Zara updated me on the plan for the
Mercado estate. Not ideal, but better than potentially losing
everything. What about Elizabeth?"
"The Brazilian government is going to collapse," Saudia informed
him. "I'd expect there to be repercussions in America. Consider this a
heads up."
"He's being patched through now," Saudia answered. "Let's see what
he wants. I'll cut off holographic representation. You can still watch,
but he won't see."
Matthew gave a quick nod and she shut off his hologram and a
quarter-minute later, the hologram of the alien appeared, looking as
smug as ever. She wondered if he had any other cloths besides the
same black ones he always wore. "Director," he greeted smoothly. "A
pleasure to see you again."
The smile vanished from his face and his featured hardened to a
decidedly alien expression that looked torn between seriousness and
fury. "Right to business, I see. Yes, Director, there is. We are coming
to the Bastion to retrieve the remainder of the Furies. Since you
requested a message ahead of time, I felt it prudent to honor it."
Saudia glared at him. "So soon after the last one? You're treading a
thin line, Speaker. You can only come and take what you want so
many times before there are… issues ."
" I have my orders," the Speaker stated firmly. "This is not a request,
Director. We will discuss this further once I land." He inclined his
head and ended the call.
" I'll let you deal with them," Matthew said. "Good luck, Director."
He ended his call and she spun on her heel and stormed to the
hangar. This was pushing a line, even for an alien species that so
obviously considered themselves superior. It was a blatant showing
of authority that she was currently forced to accept or be attacked. It
was becoming closer to a hostile takeover and this scenario only had
several options. Play along, or go to war.
And they weren't quite at the level to challenge the aliens yet,
especially with XCOM hunting them.
She reached the hangar where Ethan and twenty of his soldiers
stood ready for the alien's arrival. She'd learned from last time and
the Bastion was staffed to capacity, militarily, with dozens more
soldiers throughout the building in addition to all the integrated
defenses. Should the aliens push to far, she was certain they would
be defeated.
"Open it," she ordered the guard standing by the hangar door. He
nodded and the large door opened while squeaking and groaning
from the cold. Just outside she saw the same UFO that had visited
the Bastion before, or at least the same kind.
Just outside the hangar was the Speaker, and only the Speaker. She
frowned. Hmm. His entourage must have either stayed in the ship, or
he'd come alone, which she found highly unlikely. The alien glanced
up at the rising hangar door, and hands clasped behind his back,
approached her.
She raised a hand, motioning her soldiers to stay in place while she
walked forward toward him. He stooped about twenty feet from the
soldiers, clearly waiting for her to arrive. At this distance, they could
speak in relative privacy, which was no doubt what the alien wanted.
He looked behind her, the corners of his lips twitching. "Tell me,
Director, do you greet all your guests with such an escort, or only
your allies?"
Ah, so that's was what this was about. "They are being dealt with,"
Saudia stated, wishing it was a few days in the future. "But these
attacks take time, and XCOM is not an insignificant opponent."
"Is that right?" The alien asked, cocking his head. "You have been
attacked twice, two of your major bases are under threat of an
XCOM attack and your apparent… leak… to turn the populace
against XCOM failed. Neither the Elders, nor I, believe that they are
being dealt with ."
The Speaker appraised her, his eyes hidden behind the spectacles.
"That you even have to prepare for such an attack speaks to either
your own arrogance, overconfidence or incompetence when dealing
with XCOM. You were warned they were a threat, and yet you
treated them no differently." His voice turned harsh. "And now they
threaten you. You thrive on secrecy. What use will you be to us when
your greatest advantage is stripped away by XCOM?"
"So I take this to mean you will win if they attack?" The Speaker
demanded.
"Without question," Saudia promised. "If they attack us, they will all
die."
The alien unexpectedly broke into an eerie smile. "For your sake,
Director, I hope you are right."
"A statement," the alien answered simply. "You are running out of
chances to justify our investment with you. Should it get worse, the
Elders will see no reason to continue it."
"Tell me," Saudia said, glaring at him. "Do you actually speak to the
Elders themselves?"
He nodded. "Yes."
"Good," Saudia stepped back. "Then tell them the next time they are
"displeased" with me, to come down themselves. Unless you come
for a separate reason, you will no longer be allowed within the
Bastion. I will not deal with intermediaries anymore."
They looked at each other in silence for a few minutes. "Very well,"
the Speaker finally said. "I will. I would suggest you not fail again,
should your request be granted."
"Noted," Saudia stated. "Convey that we will also not turn any more
psionic subjects after the ones you will collect today. Should we
agree to turn over more, it will be at our discretion, not yours."
"Yes, I am," Saudia interrupted, raising a fist. "You are our allies, not
our superiors . You do not command us. You work with us. We are
willing to do that, but we are not underneath you and will not be
treated as such. Do I make myself clear?"
"Or our alliance will be concluded," Saudia finished. "We will both
lose more by splitting than remaining together. But it will be as
equals. Nothing more or less."
The alien was silent again. "I will convey your… words… to the
Elders," he finally said. "But I will warn you, should the Elders come
speak to you in person, do not address them with such disrespect.
Not if you value your life."
Saudia pursed her lips. "Duly noted," she stepped aside and waved
her hand towards the inner hangar. "Now, let's collect what you came
for."
The Speaker nodded and they both walked further into the hangar
towards the final pair of Furies.
Judges
Judges
Both women stared at each other across the table, one calm, the
other nervous. Both had sensors attached to their heads, as well as
their chests and other monitored organs. Patricia rapped her fingers
on the table as she looked at the woman who was trying her best to
compose herself. The longer the silenced stretched, the more the
woman's terror became more apparent.
"And give you the satisfaction?" The woman hissed, a spike of anger
breaking the growing terror. "Never!"
Patricia paused and opened her eyes, knowing the woman would
see her eyes glowing with psionic energy. "… the unknown," she
finished. "You don't know just what we do, what we are. You've heard
the stories, no doubt, but you didn't think that XCOM was like this .
And that terrifies you. That we care as little for you as it seemed
when we were prepared to execute your people."
"Did I know that?" Patricia finished, resting her arms on the table.
"Long story. But the short version is that we don't need to torture
you. We don't even need to speak to you," Patricia tapped the side
of her head with a finger. "All I need is to read your mind."
She first focused on the woman before her, then her vision became
unfocused as she found the mind belonging to her. It wasn't hard,
not here, since she felt different and the Citadel had a rather low
population. All she wanted here was basic details, names, family,
small things.
The page immediately filled with words, all organized and formatted
just how she liked it. "Airi Mercado," she said out loud, the image of
the filing room superimposed over the real world. "Born April 21st,
1970. Husband Hideo, killed defending from our attack. Children
Daizo and -"
" Get out of my head!" The shrill voice shook the fictional walls of the
filing room and echoed even louder inside her own mind, causing
Patricia to wince. She withdrew and refocused on the woman visibly
swearing and staring at her, eyes wide with fear.
Patricia clasped her hands together and rested them on the table.
"Believe me now, Airi ?"
"Why even bother?" She spat. "You can just read my mind anyway.
Why give me a choice?"
"A courtesy," Patricia answered. "I'm well aware the mind is not
something that should be intentionally violated, but I will do so if
necessary. I'd prefer not too, as it's exhausting and time-consuming
for me, not to mention dangerous for you, but several of your friends
forced my hand."
"I did," Patricia confirmed. "And all their stories lined up, the
information exact from each one of them. The threat of seeing just
what was in their mind was enough for most of them, though there
were several holdouts." Patricia tapped the table absentmindedly.
"But in the end it wasn't difficult."
That last part was stretching the truth a bit. She'd been exhausted
after each mental examination, and had barely managed to find
enough to confirm what she needed to know. She'd needed several
hours to recover from each one, but had also gotten better at it each
time.
"Wait," Airi said, leaning forward. "Ok, I'll tell you. But what's going to
happen to us?"
That was a good question, and she wasn't exactly sure what the
Commander had meant when he'd given his answer. "The
Commander will ultimately decide that," she answered. "If you
cooperate, you'll make it much easier on yourself."
She sensed some hesitation. "You are going to tell me one way or
another," Patricia warned. "Any hesitation you feel will not matter.
Your only choice here is your willingness, or lack thereof."
Airi hesitated, then wrote down the answer on a piece of paper. "Say
it," Patricia ordered. "Do not lie. I'll know if you do."
She was telling the truth, but Patricia didn't really even need to
confirm it that way. Her answer was more or less the same as the
others. Whether this alliance was temporary or permanent was the
source of some diversion, but the answer was always yes .
"Within Japan," Airi answered quickly. "I only know a few outgoing
locations to China. If you want names of operatives, I can't help you."
Patricia nodded. She was telling the truth, though it wasn't overly
helpful. One of Zhang's agents would likely press her for the details
after, but all she needed was confirmations at this point. "Do you
know who the leader of EXALT is?"
Yep, matched up with everyone else. Patricia had no clue who she
was, but knowing who was actually running things would probably
help the Commander and Zhang. "Two more questions," Patricia
finished. "Then I'll leave. Someone will come later and ask you for
more details and you will answer them. Understood?"
Airi was silent for a few minutes, then bowed her head. "Yes. But I
don't know the address. It only know that it's in Beijing somewhere.
We keep our main bases secret except for those that absolutely
need to know. The best I can do is provide you the location where I
shipped supplies if it was needed."
"Yes."
The answers had ranged from yes to probably, so she was fairly
certain that was enough confirmation, at least in this case. It had
been somewhat surprising to learn that Solaris Industries was
implicated with EXALT, but since she'd only heard of it in passing,
wasn't overly saddened or feeling emotional about it. It did fit with
how EXALT operated. Influencing leading people and companies, or
in this case, controlling them.
Airi didn't bother to respond as she opened the door and stepped out
into the cell.
Zhang gave a curt nod. "Yes, Specialist. We will call if you are
needed."
She did wonder what the Commander would do with them once they
were thoroughly debriefed. She'd have to ask later, but for now all
she wanted was to sleep and try to avoid the voices and images
flashing through her mind now. She didn't know if they were
aftereffects of seeing so many minds, or a consequence of it. But
she hoped it would stop after sleep.
She smiled as she felt a familiar mind close and saw Creed with her
own eyes. He'd come down with her during the interrogations, and
even though he hadn't been allowed to participate, she was glad
he'd been in the general area, for unofficial moral and mental support
if nothing else.
He pushed himself off the wall and walked over to her. "All done?"
She weakly punched him in the chest. "What do you think?" She
growled, somewhat annoyed he'd asked such an obvious question.
He winced and she felt a spike of embarrassment from him.
"Point taken," he noted. "What I meant to say was how are you?"
She sighed and they both began walking back toward the barracks.
"Exhausted. I need sleep, preferably for a day. But I'll survive."
"You deserve it," he agreed. "You get what you needed from them?
All of them?"
"Every last one," Patricia confirmed, blinking and shaking her head
to clear it. "They can't exactly defend against it. They were all pretty
freaked out."
Creed chuckled. "I'd imagine they were. Most people probably would
be knowing you could read their mind."
"Here you go," he told her which she took and placed behind her
head.
"Can you…" she waved her hand in a circle. "Stay in this general
area? Please? I'm having some kind of aftereffects, it'll help me
focus a bit more if you're around since… well, I know yours pretty
well."
"No kidding," Van Doorn shook his head. "They were smart not to
have all their leaders be public figures. Aside from Solaris, I've never
heard of anyone important called Saudia or Diguon."
Van Doorn looked up. "Be that as it may, Matthew has done some
good, even if it was just a cover."
"Well, unfortunately for him we can now bring his little empire
crashing around him," the Commander pointed out as he set down
his tablet. "Five confessions can't be overlooked by anyone. Zhang
will have a field day putting this together."
"Good point," Van Doorn grunted. "It looks like you were right about
their alliance too, they're trying to use the aliens."
"Idiots," the Commander shook his head. "I suppose when you've
successfully hidden for who knows how many years, assuming you
can exploit an alien species for tech probably seems like a good
plan. A shame too. They might have been useful."
"The good news is that they'll likely turn on the aliens in the future,"
Van Doorn noted. "Which means they won't be focusing on us."
"Can EXALT really not see that?" Van Doorn wondered aloud,
looking up at the ceiling. "A society that can survive without detection
this long can't be completely stupid."
"Arrogant, not stupid," the Commander corrected. "Though I do
wonder if we're giving them pause."
"In any event, we probably know what to expect when we attack this
Mercado estate," Van Doorn redirected, looking back towards his
tablet. "Though Beijing is a lot of ground to cover."
Van Doorn smiled. "True. The aliens are surprisingly invested now,
they have a stake in this war. It makes sense they wouldn't want it to
go to waste."
The door suddenly hissed open and Bradford stormed in, flanked by
Jackson who looked uncharacteristically nervous. "We have a
situation," Bradford announced without ceremony. His composure
seemingly close to breaking.
"Look for yourself," Jackson answered as she turned on the TV. The
news station switched to CNN.
"I'm afraid so," Bradford confirmed grimly. "And it's only going to get
worse. Much worse."
"They have to," Bradford agreed. "Just based on the last few hours,
their country is falling apart."
"Clever," Van Doorn muttered. "But this is not good for us."
" Your quick response was the reason," the Speaker answered. "Had
you not acted swiftly, the Council would have been forced to take…
action… Fortunately, that was not needed. Yet now, I fear that it
there will be repercussions as a result of… recent events."
The Speaker clasped his hands together. "In addition to the multiple
incriminating documents released, it was also revealed that the
journalists responsible for releasing them received payment from
German and Israeli contacts. Some on the Council find it…
suspicious and coincidental."
" Your answer will be conveyed," the Speaker nodded. "Though the
question of what prompted this still remains."
" The Council will require more proof," the Speaker warned.
"Speculation will not be enough."
He'd discussed this with Bradford and Van Doorn. Until they had an
air-tight case with irrefutable proof against Solaris Industries or the
actual location of the Mercado estate, the Council didn't need to
know the results of the interrogation. He didn't think the Council
needed to know they had a soldier who was psionic yet. He'd prefer
to keep that card to himself until Vahlen either found a way to
replicate it or suppress it.
"The point that should be taken from this is that EXALT is likely
responsible for this," the Commander continued. "They want Brazil to
leave the Council. They want to connect XCOM to this somehow.
Leaving would accomplish exactly what they wanted."
Well, not unexpected, but he still wasn't happy. But road bumps
happened, and they'd just have to move forward. "Give the Brazilian
councilor my regards, and good luck," the Commander said. "I hope
in the future we can work with them to combat the alien threat."
And he meant that, with one catch.
Should he work with them again, it would not be through the Council.
" It will be done," the Speaker inclined his head. "We look forward to
seeing your next steps in countering the alien threat, Commander.
We will be watching."
"The aliens have been quiet," Van Doorn muttered as he went over
and turned on the holotable. "They're probably planning something."
"We'll see," the Commander muttered. "But when they do move, we'll
be ready. Bradford, we'll need to make up the loss here somehow.
Have Jackson put a list of possible countries together."
"Gladly," Van Doorn agreed and took the tablet and began looking it
over.
The Commander rubbed his forehead and closed the tab of the
document he'd been writing. Anything major that impacted his work
he always had written himself, and he did consider himself fairly
good at it now. But this was going to have a much larger impact than
anything before it. It was needed, but the amount of scenarios,
variations and political and economic repercussions was massive. It
might be time to recruit some experts who specialized in
international law.
That might not be a bad idea regardless, since XCOM was going to
become a more "public" organization. The more their influence grew,
the likelier chance that some countries might ask for their support on
various measures. XCOM would not become involved, of course, not
officially, but it might not be a bad idea to know the ramifications of
various proposals.
They had tried this once, and they would likely do it again provided
he wasn't careful. But he suspected that they were too busy going
through the remains of the Dreadnought now that the UN case was
over. As he'd suspected, the UN had delayed it by a few months, but
little more. The good news was that everything of value had been
taken, power sources, weapons, elerium, MELD. Only the metal
remained, though it was a significant amount.
A few more countries. That's what was needed before XCOM would
leave the Council. Brazil had pushed this back several months at
least, but the goal was in sight now. Once they withdrew, full
alliances could be established with the United States, Argentina,
Japan and perhaps the UK and India. Australia and Canada would
probably reject him for sure, and the rest were up in the air. Working
directly with XCOM, the Commander suspected that they would
increase their funding especially now that they were getting tech in
return.
But he still wasn't completely sure, and if he was wrong, would likely
ensure XCOM split or fell apart completely. He wasn't sure that was
a risk that should be taken yet. His intercom started flashing green
and beeping. The Commander sighed and hit the answer button,
hoping another crisis hadn't come up. "Central, anything new?"
" Uh, you could say that, Commander," Bradford actually sounded
stunned, which prompted the Commander to sit up straighter and
looked down at the intercom, frowning. This couldn't be good.
" Supreme Leader Iseul Gwan has just asked to speak with you,"
Central explained. "Should I put him through?"
" Positive,"
He shut the intercom off and rose from his chair, grabbed the remote
and turned on the screen in front of him. It was blank for a few
seconds, before flashing to reveal Iseul Gwan standing before him,
hands clasped behind his back.
He wore the darker gray uniform of the North Korean officers, with
several badges attached to the upper left chest per military tradition.
He had also forgone the overly ceremonial and ridiculous hat that
officers generally worn. Iseul was clearly cut from pure military cloth,
and his face reflected that. Sharp, angular and hard, he was a man
who took his position seriously and commanded respect. His short
black hair was expertly styled, as was expected with a regime as
strict as his, but there was a reason people had disliked dealing with
the man himself, and upon seeing him now, the Commander could
agree that he posed an intimidating figure, despite being older than
fifty.
If nothing else, this would be interesting. "Supreme Leader Gwan,"
he said cordially. "This is a surprise."
" I'd imagine so," Iseul's voice had a noticeable accent, but not
incomprehensible. "But your actions, and those of the alien menace,
have warranted my attention."
"I'm glad you recognize the threat," the Commander said. "But that
would not warrant a personal call from the leader of a country that
has isolated itself for decades."
" Because it doesn't," Iseul stated, his tone barely changing. "Both of
us recognize that the fate of our species is at stake. You have not
stood by and watched and neither would I. I believe it is time for my
country to take a greater role in the defense of Earth."
" That of an ally, preferably," Iseul answered. "I was skeptical initially
when your organization appeared. But your actions and presence
have confirmed that you are no United Nations puppet. And in that
case, I see no reason to work separately when we will be stronger
when our strength is combined."
It wasn't as though there was much of a choice here, not only did he
want to see exactly what Iseul would say to convince him, but he'd
be the first influential foreigner to enter the country in years. The
knowledge he would gain, even a little, might be useful to the UN
should he ever need it.
There was one thing that had to be cleared thought. "I see," the
Commander said. "When would you prefer I visit?"
" As soon as possible," Iseul stated. "I believe that will be better for
all of us. I would also suggest you come alone. Your advisors will not
be needed."
Iseul shook his head, almost in exasperation. "And bring down not
only XCOM, but the rest of the world in retaliation? No, Commander,
you will have my assurance and protection within my country. I honor
my promises, and you will be free to leave whenever you choose,
regardless of our discussion."
"Very well," the Commander finally said. "I'll come discuss the
possibility of an alliance. Though I'll warn you that it will be…
difficult… to convince me of the necessity."
For the first time, Iseul's lips stretched into a smile. "I look forward to
convincing you, Commander. Until we meet."
The video shut off and the Commander stood in place for a few
seconds as he processed what had happened. It now occurred to
him that whenever he'd reflected on his plan for defending Earth,
he'd rarely ever taken North Korea into account. He'd noted its
existence, of course, but actually working with them was something
he'd never thought about, let alone them coming to him in the first
place.
This move might seem like desperation to some, a last ditch move to
preserve a country before it was lost in the inevitable attack, but the
Commander had not gotten that impression from Iseul at all . He had
no doubt that North Korea would benefit from an alliance with them,
but it was going to take a lot for Iseul to convince him that it was
worth supporting his authoritarian regime.
Very little was actually known about the Supreme Leader, but he'd
been remarkably restrained during his rule, and wasn't seen as
unintelligent. Dangerous, yes, but dangerous and smart, which was
a worrying combination for many in the world, and especially South
Korea.
The door hissed open behind him and Van Doorn, Zhang and
Bradford walked in. "What did he want?" Bradford demanded.
"I didn't get that impression from Iseul," the Commander noted. "It
sounded like a genuine offer. Zhang, do you know much about him?"
"No," Zhang stated firmly, shaking his head for emphasis. "I have not
been conducting operations is North Korea, and the Triad never
conducted any business either. Too restrictive."
It was smaller than a United States air base, but there was no
question this was being heavily used. Planes, fighters and jets were
parked, and soldiers and engineers were going about their duties
with a mechanical speed and efficiency. Most were seemingly
ignoring him altogether, except for the small detachment standing
outside waiting for him.
The leading one wore the armor he'd seem from the recent video,
with the ornate red helmet, armor, and shoulder cape. Upon closer
inspection it was clear that some inspiration had been drawn from
XCOM gear, just based on how it was put together. That soldier was
flanked by two more, and these soldiers appeared to be wearing the
same kind of armor, expect it was all black. The helmet was also
much less grandiose, resembling something closer to a pilot's helm
than anything else. The North Korean emblem was emblazoned on
their shoulder pads, and what he presumed was their rank on their
upper left chest.
Once he walked closer the red armor-clad soldier raised a hand, and
he obliged by stopping. "You are the Commander of XCOM,
correct?"
She gave a curt nod. "That is correct. I am to escort you to your ride
into our capital." She swung her head to the right, likely speaking to
the black armor-clad soldiers flanking her. "다시 단계!"
"I have been instructed to answer any questions you might have
before your visit with the Supreme Leader," she said while they
marched. "Information on military movements or directives will not be
shared."
"The Supreme Leader can better answer your question," she stated.
"But yes, this division is new. We are the vanguard that will lead the
charge against the aliens and protect our country."
He saw a limo up ahead, and it seemed like that was going to be his
ride. Thanks to his enhanced eyesight, he could see the main city
just beyond, and from here it admittedly looked as impressive as
quite a few American cities he'd visited. But looks could be deceiving
and he was certain that they would avoid driving through any parts
that showed nothing less than happy, loyal, North Korean citizens.
Though he wondered if Iseul would bother. Both of them used
propaganda and knew its effect. Because of that, both of them could
see through it much easier. It would be interesting to see how he
portrayed the city. "Where will I be taken?" He asked.
The Commander gave her a wry smile. "Oh, I'm sure I'd be very
impressed. But I don't have time for your propaganda. Business
takes precedence."
To her credit, the woman didn't acknowledge his jab. "As you wish."
"Trust me, I have many," the Commander assured her. "But the ones
I have you wouldn't be able to answer, or you'd give a carefully
crafted response. I'm aware of how your country operates."
"Because they failed," she said. "Had they kept the populace calm,
we might have a different Germany today."
They were both silent for a few moments. "What is your name?" The
Commander finally asked.
"Iida Keyoko," she answered, inclining her head. "I would ask yours,
but from what I know, you don't have one."
The Commander's lips curled up at that. "I do have one, but very few
know it. It's unimportant, my title is all that matters now."
"A fair point, Commander," Iida answered. "Now that we are close, I
must tell you that we are not going to the Government building. That
was for the benefit of my soldiers. You are being taken to the military
installation spearheading the defense of our country against the
aliens."
They finally arrived and once both of them exited the limo, found
themselves in an enclosed garage-like area, empty, except for
guards at each exit, all of whom wore the black armor. They saluted
as Iida approached, which she acknowledged with a nod as they
walked through the door. The hallways were gray, bare, and sterile,
and they didn't encounter any more soldiers as they moved through
the maze.
Left, right, right and left, the Commander was trying to keep up with
all the turns, but soon after became convinced that Iida was
purposefully leading him in circles to disorient him from memorizing
the path, much like how Israel had done when he'd visited Tel Aviv.
They finally arrived in front of a glass door which slid open.
"Step inside," Iida ordered, extending her hand to the entrance. The
Commander obliged, not having much of a choice, and she joined
him and punched in a code on the other side. An elevator, that's
what this was. After she finished, they started rising and within half a
minute, slowed to a stop and the door opened to reveal a well-lit
room with ceramic tile and North Korean paraphernalia lining the
walls.
Flags, posters and statues were all present, arranged in such a way
as to be as impressive as possible. Quite honestly, he was
impressed, but it was nothing he hadn't seen from America or
Russia. North Korea had always utilized props and symbols
masterfully into their propaganda, and even if he knew the effect it
had, it was an art he could understand and respect.
They both stepped out and began walking, their boots clacking on
the tile. The Commander noted with some curiosity that there were
no portraits of previous leaders or figures. He'd have expected
something, especially from the Supreme Leader, but saw nothing on
the walls aside from flags and posters.
When the previous Supreme Leader had died almost thirty years
ago, the Commander had read some speculations from various
figures about the cause of death, the leading theories revolving
around assassination. It was difficult to know for certain, since North
Korean internal disputes were extraordinary hard to confirm, but the
Gwan's father hadn't been in poor health and only seventy.
Of course, North Korea propaganda could have hidden any ills from
the western world and it would be hard to know one way or another.
But given that Gwan's brother, who would have been first in the line
of succession, had been found guilty of treason and executed a few
years before made it plausible to think that maybe, Iseul Gwan had
caused the apparent abrupt death of the Supreme Leader as a
masterful power play.
The room suddenly opened up into a wider rectangle, where the far
wall was nothing but a floor-to-ceiling window. A large oak table was
in the middle of the room, and on both sides were two screens
displaying maps and rapidly scrolling information that the
Commander wasn't able to catch, not that it would have mattered
since he didn't know Korean.
In the middle of the room, in front of the window was Supreme
Leader Iseul Gwan, overlooking whatever was outside with his
hands clasped behind his back and wearing the same uniform he
had in his initial greeting.
Iida raised her hand into a salute. "우박, 최고 지도자!" She shouted, her
voice amplified in the silent room.
Without a word of farewell, Iida turned on her heel and walked back
to the elevator. The Commander took that as a sign to walk forward
and did until he reached the window. What awaited him was both
expected, and not at the same time. "Magnificent, isn't it?" Iseul
commented as they looked over the working area.
"You had no idea because I decided not to tell you," Iseul stated
without looking over at him, though the Commander detected trace
amounts of humor in his voice. "I could have, of course. The
gracious United Nations provided each world government with a way
to contact their anti-alien division in the event of an attack. Even us.
But I knew they would hoard what they gained from themselves
when it rightfully belongs to us."
He looked over at the Commander, his eyes hard. "I sent my soldiers
to storm the craft. Many died. But we won, and in the process,
gained the keys to ultimate victory. But you already know this."
"Your new soldiers," the Commander remembered. "If I may guess, a
derivative of analyzing the alien alloys?"
"My entire army?" Iseul looked him in the eye. "No. But we've
meticulously planned out the best use of our limited supply, and by
mixing alien alloys with metal on Earth, we are able to equip most of
it. It will not provide the level of protection your soldiers enjoy, but it
will allow us to wage an effective ground war with the aliens when
the time comes."
"And have you tested it?" The Commander asked. "The plasma
weapons the aliens use are far more powerful than human ballistics."
"Not with plasma, no," Iseul admitted. "But we've done what we can.
Jet cannons, rockets, AA guns. What we've developed will hold at
least once to most of those, barring shrapnel from the rockets into
unprotected parts. We lack your weapons to test, but I am confident
in my scientists and engineers."
"How long has this been going on?" The Commander asked, using
his enhanced vision to look closer at the workers who were
disassembling an alien computer.
"Nearly four months," Iseul answered. "The very best and brightest
working nonstop all hours of the day, knowing our days were
numbers," he pursed his lips. "I've also been following XCOM,
Commander, as best I can. My initial assumptions about your
organization, and you, were wrong. You are not a fool, you know
these aliens will soon truly invade and wipe out or enslave us."
The Commander looked at him grimly. "Yes, I realized that some
time ago. Unfortunately, there is little I can do except prepare for the
possibility."
"As do I," Iseul agreed, looking over the UFO. "I have not ignored
your growing number of countries working directly with you either.
Israel, Germany, Ukraine, Armenia, Turkey and more. No one else
has either, and your rapid expansion, regardless of its use, will soon
be seen as a threat if it isn't already."
"You may view it that way, but other do not," Iseul said. "Your
influence has grown, like it or not. Some view it as a threat, but for
others, XCOM represents the last hope before the world falls."
"On some level, that is true," Iseul conceded. "But you and I both
know most humans are not like us, they are driven by emotion, not
reason. Do you honestly not see why so many countries are willing
to risk sanctions or worse by the UN, opposition from their own
government, or will of the people to work with XCOM?"
"Or, in a word, hope," Iseul amended, with a small smile. "The rest of
the world is beginning to see the United Nations for what it is: inept,
corrupt, and broken. They saw what happened in Germany, in China,
and it was not a nebulous collection of politicians that saved the day,
it was not NATO, not diplomacy or any other useless ideal or power
of the United Nations. It was XCOM ."
"It was the reason I took matters into my own hands initially," Iseul
nodded. "But regardless of the technicality of it, I don't believe that
XCOM is part of the United Nations any more than I believe Mexico
is part of the United States simply because they share the same
continent. It might have started that way originally, but times have
changed. The United Nations, nor XCOM have acknowledged an
official relationship," Iseul gave a small smile. "And besides, do you
honestly consider yourself part of them anymore?"
The Commander gave him a wry smile; the man was clever. "No, I
do not."
"As expected," Iseul said with a nod. "But my point is that the nations
are rallying around the only force in the world that is openly doing
something. The only force that seems to have a chance . The United
Nations will fall, and I think you've figured this out as well. Why else
begin to secure as much additional funding as possible if not to
prepare for that eventuality?"
"Ah, yes," Iseul agreed knowingly. "I'd imagine working for the very
people who betrayed you would be a sufficient motive to break away
from them, if not instigate their fall yourself."
"To prove to you that I have no other agenda than the defense of
humanity and my country," Iseul stated. "And you know an army will
be needed to win the coming invasion. XCOM is proficient, but it will
not be enough to stop legions of aliens that will arrive to overrun us."
"I know what propaganda is," the Commander stated, his voice
lowering. "Yet based on everything I know, propaganda about North
Korea is rarely wrong. You are a dictator, to put it bluntly. You
suppress information and jail or kill those who question you. Your
military holds an iron grip over the country, its people poor and kept
reliant on you . Tell me, Supreme Leader, what of what I just said is
incorrect ."
Iseul inexplicably smiled. "Very little," he admitted. "But we both have
distasteful titles attached to us, Commander . You are a war criminal
who hung children on crosses. You assassinated heads of state at
your own discretion. You killed civilians with no remorse or concern,
even those just caught in the crossfire. You tortured, disfigured and
executed any who refused to conform to your view of the world. You
desecrated the graves of men and women who did nothing wrong
except follow a certain religion. You wiped out every symbol, village
and city important to Islam and accomplished something not seen
since the Romans. You killed a religion, made its people persecuted
and forced them into hiding. Yet I doubt Islam will survive like
Christianity, and it will be because of you ."
The Commander paused. "Do I wish I hadn't been needed? Yes. But
do I regret it? No. No, I do not. I accepted that the world would
condemn me, but I do not regret it for even a day."
He waved his hand over the area. "You called me a dictator. That is
not incorrect, but unlike you and most of the world, I do not view that
as a thing to be feared or rejected . Under my leadership North
Korea is one of the most prosperous nations in the world."
"Surprising how I've never heard of that ." The Commander
muttered.
"You really think your media would report that even if they knew?"
Iseul demanded, managing some incredulity before continuing. "But
that is ultimately unimportant. The reason for that is because I had a
vision for my country. A vision that was threatened by squabbling,
infighting, politics. Adults shouting at each other and holding the
people hostage in order to achieve political points. We were not
unified, we were divided and there were several factions within this
very government four decades ago."
Iseul pursed his lips. "The people feared the military and government
for very good reason, it wasn't uncommon for a military general to
send a detachment to a section of Pyongyang and arrest and
execute a few "criminals." Of course, this wasn't to crack down on
crime, but to strike at a rival. To lower his production or profits."
"Let me guess," the Commander said. "You planned to take over and
remove that?"
"A good guess," Iseul agreed. "As the second son of the Supreme
Leader, I fortunately had resources and advantages that made it
possible. The culling soon began when I came of age, and the
troublesome elements of the lower ranks in the government were
arrested or executed. I kept advancing, moving up. But as I rose, the
corruption only became more evident." His face wrinkled in disgust.
"My father reveled in the power this position offers, he cared nothing
for the people, only himself. He held lavish feasts while people
starved in the cities and field. He had no qualms of executing
servants for bringing a meal cold. He ruled through fear . My brother
was no better, he had no vision, no direction. He would have been a
puppet to my father's advisors and friends who openly tolerated the
skirmishing officers below them, as long as it didn't affect their
lifestyle."
His tone turned cold and the Commander noted his right hand
clenched into a fist. "It should come as no surprise that I purged the
leadership when I took the mantle of Supreme Leader. I don't simply
execute dissidents, Commander. I don't jail those who simply
question me. I only do that to those who pose a threat to my country.
I will not apologize for that."
"That people do not know what is best for them," Iseul answered, his
voice lowering as he continued. "They are not like you or me. They
are swayed not by logic, reason and necessity, but by emotion, by
lies . Hope . They want to be good, they want to be happy when the
reality is that life is not black and white, and good and evil are
relative."
"My people are satisfied with their life," Iseul hissed. "Unlike your
governments I actually provide for each and every one of my people.
They work for something much greater than themselves. They don't
need to be happy, they don't need to dream of a ' better life .' They
just need to be satisfied . They are content . Every man, woman and
child knows that they are one part in this country and there are few
honors greater than that."
He turned around and marched towards the table. "We are a united
country. America, England, Canada, the people only care about
themselves. The so-called "American Dream" is based on greed and
selfishness. Yes, they have the freedom to try and achieve their
unachievable dreams, and admittedly a few of them do."
Iseul raised an eyebrow. "Do you really believe that? You would
leave the fate of a country to chance just to preserve your freedom
?"
"Right," Iseul mused. "You can dispute it all you want, Commander,
but the truth is that both of us are driven by something more than
necessity . That will take you far, but there is one extra thing needed
to achieve what both of us have."
He raised a finger, his lips twitching as he seemed to suppress a
smile. "Consider the story of a younger man in the CIA, a brilliant
operative, one who can do missions and perform feats others are not
only unable to, but unwilling to. Now a new threat is emerging, one
that is expanding rapidly and uses tactics so brutal the world is
shocked. Right now everyone is hoping it will go away, but the
United States would rather get a handle on it early."
Iseul began pacing. "So this man is given whatever he needs to stop
them, complete autonomy. So he watches, learns and see what will
be needed to defeat this enemy. He knows what he must do and so
begins a campaign every bit as brutal as the terrorists he's fighting
against. In time his own government orders him to stop, yet he
breaks away and convinces his soldiers to continue the fight
because it was not finished."
Iseul let that sink in for a few seconds. "You may dislike it all you
want, Commander, but we are more similar than you want to admit.
We both saw a problem and what was needed to fix it. We both
succeeded and the world hates us for it, and we are at a crossroads
again, and like last time, you will be the determining factor who will
ensure our victory or defeat."
He stepped back and there was silence for a few minutes. "You give
a good speech," the Commander said, inclining his head. "And…
while I still do not support your current leadership of the country, I
can see why you feel that way."
"Progress, I suppose," Iseul conceded. "Yet this does not answer the
question I proposed to you at the very beginning."
"That depends on how extensive this compromise is," Iseul said with
a frown.
"You say your people are content and treated well," the Commander
remembered. "I want that confirmed. Not by you, but someone I
trust."
"And would that be it?" Iseul demanded. "One investigation that will
take up valuable time?"
"If you want this alliance, which may very well not happen,
absolutely," the Commander stated. "You are risking nothing here,
whereas XCOM is likely going to be condemned by the international
community at large. And that will be the absolute minimum . I'll have
to discuss this with my Council more, but there may be more
requests. I am glad you're open to them, though."
"Within reason," Iseul amended firmly. "Do not ask use to become a
democracy."
"No," the Commander shook his head. "Not yet. But you will have to
involve showing the world that you aren't the evil they claim you are.
And that will require proof."
"We shall see," Iseul muttered, clearly focusing on the words ' not
yet' . "But you were raised in a western country, so your concern is
understandable."
The Commander inclined his head in thanks and then stepped away
and began walking back towards the elevator. That had not gone as
he'd expected, but he wasn't quite sure it was a bad thing. It was
uncomfortable just how good a speaker Iseul was, and he was
definitely a dangerous man, but also seemed to be… genuine, for
lack of a better word.
The Commander couldn't read minds like Patricia, but he could read
people, and Iseul really did seem to believe he was doing the right
thing for his citizens. It was bizarre, but… that's what it seemed to
be, and as much as he disliked it, things did change with that
revelation. Because it told him that Iseul could be reasoned with, and
should the cards be played right, he might be able to do what no one
else had been able to, change North Korea.
"A dictator who isn't driven by power," Vahlen noted, frowning. "I'm
skeptical."
"He has power," Zhang pointed out. "He's had power for decades. If
the ambition for more was what was driving him, why has North
Korea been silent for so long?"
"Tell that to South Korea," Shen said with a pointed look at the
Commander. "You forget that there may be other reasons to refrain
from expansion besides being content with what he has. Not every
dictator is an idiot."
"On that we're unanimous," Van Doorn agreed, looking towards the
Commander. " Did the Supreme Leader discuss his southern
neighbor?"
"No," the Commander said, pursing his lips. "That topic never came
up."
"I'll speak to both the President and Supreme Leader about the
possibility," the Commander said, resting his hands on the holotable.
"I think I can at least get them to start discussions. But if North Korea
is amenable to this and South Korea isn't… that won't be our
concern anymore."
"Except for the political fallout," Bradford noted. "If we side with North
Korea over the South that will not go over well with the general
public."
"Smart," Van Doorn nodded, picking up a tablet. "I assume you want
one of the human rights groups to lead the investigation?"
"Got it," Van Doorn nodded as he made some notes on his tablet. "I
have some people who could head it."
"It feels very good to be discussing all the great changes we'll
suggest to North Korea," Van Doorn noted slowly. "But we should be
wary of pushing too much. We can't demand the government change
overnight. It will have to be slowly."
"We end a shadow war between two countries, ensure the country is
actually as prosperous as he claims and potentially release an
unknown number of prisoners," Zhang answered, ticking the points
off his fingers. "In return we receive the financial and military backing
of a wealthy and advanced nation."
"But with North Korea more open, we can push for change in the
future," the Commander pointed out. "Should the Supreme Leader
be as… reasonable… as I think, he might be able to be convinced to
adopt more diplomatic elements, along with possibly additional
incentives."
"No one can expect the country to change overnight," Van Doorn
agreed, setting his tablet down. "But this is the first time that
something can be done to break the status quo. Forgetting the
military and financial benefits to this, I don't think we can morally
ignore this opportunity just because we don't get everything we
want."
The Commander nodded. "Well said. Compromise for now.
Whatever we can accomplish is better than nothing."
"I warned him we'd have conditions for an alliance," the Commander
said. "I suppose we'll see how serious he is about wanting this."
"I'll handle the Council," the Commander assured him with a smile.
"But I suppose it'll depend on how the negotiations go. I think even
the Council would be hard-pressed to condemn XCOM and me if we
manage to broker peace."
"They might," Zhang muttered. "But only because we've done what
they could not."
There was a round of sarcastic chuckles at that. "We all know the
pros and cons of this," the Commander said, looking around at them.
"Time to make a decision. All in favor."
All of them raised a hand, though Shen, Vahlen and Bradford did so
somewhat hesitantly. But it was good enough. "It's settled then," the
Commander nodded. "I'll contact Iseul and see how open he actually
is."
"Let's hope it goes well," Van Doorn said, finally breaking into a
smile. "Because if so, this could be a major turning point in history."
"That will depend on us," the Commander stated. "And if they decide
to renege on anything we agree on, we will make sure it will not be
tolerated. Dismissed."
Though he did have to admit that the timing was a little convenient,
especially since he didn't know who in their right mind would blow
the lid off this now ? Excluding the ethics involved, this was quite
possibly the worst time to do something like this, even if it could be
justified. Perhaps the Council would know a bit more about the
situation.
In fact, he'd learned a lot more just working in the Engineering Bay
and observing than the carefully planned inspections that were relied
upon. Such as Shen having a separate lab in the back devoted
exclusively for MEC experimentation and cybernetics. Interesting
how no one had shown it to him in the initial tour.
He'd taken a closer look, of course, but hadn't really found anything
beyond a workshop devoted to the cybernetic aspect of XCOM.
Though if the prototypes he'd seen in there were any indication,
Shen and the Commander literally had big plans for the MECs. Lily
was also surprisingly informative as well, though she didn't say much
beyond what he already knew. She was surprisingly comfortable
talking around him, which might have been due to having no one
else to talk too. If nothing else, it made things easier when actually
talking to the elder Shen.
Herman shook his head. Right. Enough reminiscing, time to get this
done. He had the feeling that Tamara might keep what he said to
herself, so in the interest of transparency, had reluctantly decided to
inform Warnup of the recent developments. He opened up his laptop
and began making the call.
"In this case, I agree," Herman said, sighing. "But only because I
want no part in whatever discussion follows afterward. I did my part
and kept you informed, end of story."
"I don't believe so," Herman answered. "I've been working with
XCOM to develop some experiment warfare concepts. To diversify
their arsenal, so to speak."
To his credit, the strongest reaction from Warnup was several blinks.
"You're working with XCOM? Directly?"
"If you mean I'm using XCOM resources to develop equipment for
them, then yes," Herman confirmed. "Provided the Commander
approves, some of my concepts might be incorporated into the
XCOM armory proper."
Herman resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but continued on. "Of
course I am. I noted some issues with the way he was conducting
the war and proposed some solutions. He agreed and let me work."
" You're supposed to be watching the Commander," Warnup almost
growled. "Not enabling him."
"Forgive me for not wanting more soldiers to die when they could be
prevented," Herman snapped back. "And no. I'm here to observe,
and watch for violations, but I still haven't found any. But nowhere
was it said that I couldn't help XCOM, and even if there was, that is
one time I'd break the rules."
" Are there really none?" Warnup demanded. "Or are you just not
wanting to see it? You honestly believe the Commander is
conducting this war within the rules?"
Herman crossed his arms. "Quite honestly? No, I don't. But I really
can't do anything about that without proof. You may be willing to
remove someone on gut feeling alone, but I am not. Until I find
irrefutable proof one way or another, I'm going to keep working with
the Commander and XCOM."
" You really think you're going to find anything by sitting around
passively?" Warnup asked, his tone growing angry as he leaning
towards the screen. "This Commander isn't an idiot; he knows what
you look for and I guarantee he's done everything he can to hide it.
You have to go digging, Herman, not just accepting what you see at
face value."
"Perhaps," Herman answered, gritting his teeth. "But then all I'd be
doing is proving to the Commander that everyone in the UN is a
bunch of self-righteous firebrands."
" Really," Warnup drawled. "You think I'm a firebrand? Besides, I
think Van Doorn disproved that to the Commander since he's
apparently in his inner circle."
"Probably helped by the fact that he's not part of the UN anymore,"
Herman pointed out dryly. "And from what he told me, the Council
was somewhat influential in his decision to leave."
Warnup winced at that. "That was admittedly not the best situation."
His face turned harder and serious a few seconds later. "Your
appointment here has been disappointing to say the least. The fact
that you cannot find one violation either speaks to your
incompetence or unwillingness to do so."
What the hell was he saying? "No," Herman answered, still not quite
sure what to feel. "That's not how it works. I didn't come here to
convict the Commander. I came to help and make sure he followed
the law. He has . Why can't you accept that?"
" He's playing you," Warnup insisted. "Why else allow to work on
your project if not to distract you from-"
"Maybe because he's more concerned about action than politics,"
Herman snapped. "Because unlike you, he can actually work with
people he doesn't like. He can take suggestions from them. My
opinion of his actions hasn't changed, but I have a lot more respect
for him than you right now."
Warnup stiffened. "You've worked with the United Nations for years. I
highly doubt you'd resign over this."
Oh, if he just pushed a little farther. "Do you really want to try me?"
Herman asked quietly.
Not his most professional moment. But he didn't really care at the
moment. Warnup was now one of the most unreasonable, short-
sighted and biased people he'd had the displeasure of encountering
in years. No wonder Van Doorn left after dealing with people like
that. If this was what it was like at the higher levels of the United
Nations, he sincerely wondered how anything functioned.
Well, Warnup wasn't going to be getting any more updates from him.
Tamara may be biased towards the Commander, who contrary to
what Warnup seemed to think he believed, was dangerous and likely
was committing crimes he didn't know about it. Though Warnup
hadn't been entirely wrong either when he'd accused him of just
accepting what he saw.
Because quite honestly… he was caring less and less about what
the Commander had done. He'd been around him, spoken with him
and his advisors enough to conclude that whatever the Commander
was, no matter what he'd done, that he wasn't the enemy. EXALT,
the aliens, those were what everyone should be afraid of. Those
were now the priority for him, especially since a failure to defeat
them would likely mean the eradication or enslavement of humanity.
He wondered if Van Doorn had the right idea. He was tired to trying
to straddle the line between neutrality and actually doing something,
a line that had arguably been crossed by him helping XCOM. But
what was the alternative? Sit back and do nothing, almost hoping for
the Commander to screw up? No, he had to do more.
But what?
He didn't want to fully leave the United Nations. Warnup had been
right there; contrary to what the Commander believed, the United
Nations had done a lot of good and was not irredeemable. It had its
problems, but it was inevitable in an organization this large. It would
be wrong to leave simply because of one moronic councilor. But
perhaps his position could change.
He shook his head. He'd think about how best to handle this later,
right now he needed something to take his mind off it. He opened up
his laptop again and began working on another idea of his. Refining,
creating and designing it for an unknown amount of time, so
absorbed was he in it. The troubling thoughts in the back of his head
persisted, but over time they calmed down, and surprisingly by the
end, he had an idea of what to do.
It might take some time, but it was needed. But first he had to take
this to Lily.
North Korea was frustrating to deal with in general, and one of the
few countries where EXALT's influence was close to non-existent. It
was admittedly because their extreme isolation and obsession with
control made any sort of infiltration borderline impossible. Even the
agent that was inside wasn't high up in the government, and that
little operation has literally taken years to set up.
Now, North Korea had admittedly not been high on her list of
influential or threatening countries. Since they lacked nuclear
weapons, any threat they posed would be mitigated by the threat of
China, Russia and America. They lacked any sort of influence
outside the country itself, except perhaps South Korea.
She pressed the button which would receive the call when it came.
Fortunately all EXALT agents were punctual and she only had to wait
a few minutes before his hologram appeared in front of her. He was
dressed in the regular gray tan uniform of a low-ranking North
Korean officer, and would seamlessly fit in to any of the Asian
countries. His black hair was a bit disheveled though, which seemed
a strange oversight, especially in North Korea.
"I'd expect so," Saudia agreed, clasping her hands behind her back.
"Tell me."
" Of course," Kyung picked up a tablet and looked down at it. "I
assume you saw Supreme Leader Gwan's address?"
Saudia nodded. "I did. Do you know how much of it was sincere or is
it simply propaganda?"
" It's always propaganda here," Kyung grimaced. "But in this case,
everything I've seen indicates that he's genuinely concerned about
the aliens. Those two soldiers who were flanking him? They're from
an entire division I had no idea existed until a few days ago. They
were debuted at the address, which means this has been going on
for a few months."
Saudia pursed her lips at that. She'd wondered if that was the case.
She didn't really fault Kyung for not knowing about it sooner, since
any sort of deviation or unauthorized investigation carried huge risks.
"Those soldiers seem different. Almost as if they tried to emulate
XCOM's armor style."
" Seeing as how this division is primarily anti-alien, I think that's not
inaccurate," Kyung agreed, frowning. "But I did manage to learn that
the armor this division wears is derived from alien materials. So
North Korea is definitely getting them from somewhere."
Yes it would. And it also elevated North Korea quite a bit is regards
to their threat. It would take China time to figure out what to do with
the Dreadnought, but the end result would likely be something
similar to North Korea, but in the meantime, as hard as it was to
believe, North Korea was arguably one of the most powerful
militaries in the world.
Saudia looked down as she thought. Who had access to alien tech
now? XCOM had made alliances with quite a few smaller countries,
but none of them, barring Israel, was large enough to pose much of
a threat. China now had access to alien materials….Germany was
also likely receiving some aid from XCOM was well.
But… no one else, if her agents placed throughout the world were
accurate. Which meant America, England, and Russia were behind
in the arms race for once. She wondered how long it would be before
the Commander of XCOM decided it best to allow the major powers
access to mitigate China. He was apparently American, so it wasn't
an unreasonable assumption to make.
She sighed. "Why would XCOM have any impact on what Iseul does
with his new army?"
Saudia blinked in disbelief. That she had not expected. "Are you
certain? Do you have proof?"
" Aside from seeing Supreme Leader Gwan's chief officer escorting a
man exiting a skyranger and talking with people with a higher rank,
no," Kyung answered wearily. "I can't exactly take pictures without it
looking suspicious. But I'm positive of this. Why else do you think I
risked contacting you?"
Assuming it was true, and right now she didn't see a reason to doubt
Kyung since he was one of the most loyal agents she had, it was a
major piece of information. If they had proof, Elizabeth could use this
to actually cause some harm to XCOM's image. Every human rights
watchdog organization, as well as most of the UN not to mention
South Korea, would crucify XCOM on the altar of public opinion.
But they didn't have proof, not yet. But she could be certain that if
the Commander of XCOM was planning to form some kind of
alliance that he would be preparing for every possible outcome.
There were nations who would withdraw support out of pure
principle, so they had to have some kind of plan to mitigate the
fallout.
" I've only met the Supreme Leader in person once," Kyung
answered, a grimace on his face. "He is dangerous, Director. Very
dangerous. He's intelligent, ruthless, charismatic and reasonable. He
won't refuse options out of hand because of pride. So my guess is
that if the Commander could successfully argue conditions in a way
that sounded reasonable to him, he would likely do it."
There were precious few dictatorships of either kind that were of any
note, and North Korea was a near-perfect representation of the
latter. They could definitely use this information, but at the moment
she wasn't exactly sure how to use it. However… the mere
whisperings of a possible North Korean-XCOM alliance in the right
places might be enough on its own.
Well, Elizabeth had come through on Brazil. Time to see what she
could do with this. "You've done well," she lauded, inclineing her
head to Kyung. "Your objective now is to gather proof. Take whatever
precautions you need, but I want the world to know of this as soon
as possible."
" That will take time, Director," Kyung warned. "And I'm not sure
XCOM would send an ambassador again even if they do decide to
form an alliance."
His lips twitched at that. "It will take time. But it will be done,
Director."
"Good," Saudia inclined her head. "I wish you luck, agent Kyung.
Your work will not be unrewarded."
" Assuming I live to enjoy that, " Kyung commented wryly. "But I
appreciate it, Director. Until next time."
With that, he reached over to an unseen control and the hologram
disappeared, leaving Saudia alone to ponder the ramifications of this
information.
Abby looked in the mirror, making sure she looked presentable. Not
bad, all things considering. She'd never pictured herself as a
businesswoman, but she had managed to pull it off rather well. Black
pants and jacket did contrast well with her blonde hair which she'd
elected to keep long. She did wonder if she was overdressing a bit,
but it never hurt to look professional.
She brushed a few strands of hair behind her ears and stepped back
and left the bathroom. She spun around quickly and blinked a few
times and everything blurred around her. It was still taking some
getting used too, these gene mods as they called them. She hadn't
had time for extensive ones, but they'd enhanced her eyesight to an
insane degree before she'd left.
It was amazing just what she could see now. Inhuman was the best
word, but didn't really seem to apply here since she was still very
much one. But something she hadn't realized at first was just how
much easier it was to read people. Minute facial gestures, twitches,
rapid blinking, even to a novice like her she could suddenly catch a
bunch of little hints indicating how someone was really feeling.
It had been exciting for her, and now she was going to see just how
good she really was. This was her first assignment without Ruth
overseeing her and she was admittedly a bit nervous. But it wasn't a
particularly difficult assignment. Zhang suspected that the local NBC
station in San Francisco was a front for EXALT, or at least being
influenced by them.
Her job was to observe, gather evidence one way or another and
report back to Zhang. Her forged credentials were that of "Christine
Rivers," professional editor which would give her access to most
stories that were being published. This would be her first day
"officially" on the job, which would mostly be to assert her
surroundings.
Since Zhang hadn't specified, she was going to assume they were
equals until someone decided one way or the other. She glanced at
the clock, grabbed the keys to the car she was using and walked out
into the bright California sunlight.
She winced and quickly put her sunglasses on. One downside to her
vision being enhanced was she was more sensitive to bright lights,
but it also tended to die down after a few minutes. Jochern was
waiting for her, impatience written on his face as he leaned against
the car. She'd been surprised initially how young he was; she was
only in her mid-twenties, but he looked no older than twenty himself.
Still, he'd been nice and courteous to her and seemed like a decent
person. She did note his expression change as he got closer, the
irritation fading. "Sorry," she apologized. "This look alright?"
He blinked once and she noted with some amusement that his
cheeks were turning ever so slightly red. "Uh, yeah," he managed.
"Very good."
"Ah," she grew more serious at that. "Were you there when-"
"No," he shook his head quickly. "I was already with XCOM by then.
But it wasn't exactly… easy ."
His lips twitched. "I'm guessing Zhang didn't tell you how I actually
joined XCOM Intelligence?"
"No," Abby answered. "He just gave me your name and position."
"Ok, short version," Jochern shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "I think
I might have accidentally been working for EXALT."
"You know all those protests before the Hamburg attack?" He asked,
cracking his knuckles absentmindedly. "I was friends with one of the
leaders. There were some others interested as well, and one of them
hired me to… well, spy on him. Give him updates."
"Not quite," Jochern scowled. "I became his friend after I made a
deal with this guy. Seriously, I was almost certain he was
government and didn't exactly feel safe refusing, not to mention he
was paying pretty well. Anyway, it wasn't difficult to become part of
his little revolution circle. Revolutionaries are easily idealistic and
don't like to believe the worst in people, especially those that say all
the right things."
Abby was starting to see why Zhang had brought him on. Even if he
was a dishonest and manipulative person, she honestly didn't think
he was overly malicious. "So I'm guessing Zhang found out and
offered you a job?"
Huh. That was admittedly not the story she'd expected, but she was
glad she knew all the same. Young he may be, but if Zhang and the
Commander felt it safe enough to allow him a job here, he likely had
some idea of what he was doing. "Thanks for telling me," she said,
nodding towards him.
She hesitated. "Less exciting than yours, I'm afraid. I was a combat
medic in XCOM up until a few months ago. I was on the
Dreadnought assault."
His eyes widened. "Right! You are Abby! I thought it was some kind
of mistake when they sent your name to me."
"Why did you transfer here?" he asked, resting his elbow on the
armrest as he looked at her. "You were a hero. Everyone who
survived was. Why leave?"
Abby pursed her lips. She was aware that some considered her a
supposed hero, but didn't exactly feel entirely comfortable with that.
"Zhang talked to me before that mission; he'd offered me a position.
In the end I choose it because I felt I could do more good here."
"Question," Abby asked suddenly. "You said how you joined, but not
why ? You could have refused, yes? Why did you stay and risk death
or worse?"
"How could I just… leave when I knew that aliens were invading?"
Jochern demanded, gesturing aimlessly. "That's not something I can
ignore, especially when I contributed to it, no matter how small. I
guess this is sort of a repentance for me, but more importantly, it's
the right thing to do."
"Not personally," Abby shook her head. "I tended to keep to myself.
But there were stories where I worked, even back to med school. I'd
hear of wives or husbands leaving or divorcing when they learned
their partners were terminal. There were always students who quit
because it was too difficult. One thing that really stuck with me was
the realization that most people don't like challenge."
"But you stuck with it and didn't run," Abby amended. "You're fighting
for something bigger than yourself, all of us are, but the truth is that
most people don't like their comfortable lives challenged or changed
if they can get out of it."
"Well, if the world is any indication, I think people are going to be
finding out a lot about themselves soon," Jochern said, looking back
out the window. "Change is coming. War is coming and it's not
something people will be able to ignore."
Abby glanced over at him. "You really think so? If the aliens were
intent on conquering us, wouldn't they have done it already?"
"I don't know," Jochern admitted. "But we can't keep beating them
without some kind of retaliation. I don't like it, but something is
coming. The Commander knows it, Zhang knows it and the sooner
we all accept that, the better."
"If that's the case, then what can we really do?" Abby asked
curiously.
Jochern nodded to the studio they were pulling into. "We wound
them any way we can. Starting with their puppets in EXALT."
Abby unbuckled her seatbelt after she parked and looked at the
studio building in front of her. "Then I suppose we should get to
work. Let's see how influential EXALT really is."
"I told you I'd win," she said as she took off her training mask.
"Believe me now?"
On that Soran agreed. After seeing her fight quite a few times, he
was certain Carmelita would have won easily even without her
enhancements. Samuel was good, but nowhere near her level. Much
less so now that Carmelita could pick up an armored man with
apparent ease and throw him. The whole ordeal didn't appear to
exhaust her, either.
"You still haven't beaten me," Creed interjected, finally walking up.
"Maybe now you'll have a chance."
Creed gestured to the training floor. "If you are. You sure you don't
need a break?"
From his tone, Soran couldn't tell if Creed was actually being sincere
or sarcastic. Carmelita apparently interpreted it as the latter and
tossed a training mask to him. "Get out there," she stated and
trudged past him. Soran saw Creed give a wry grin as she walked
past and put on the mask which matched his black armor.
There were already a fair number of soldiers in the training area and
they were starting to gather around now that the two best operatives
were facing off again. Soran had witnessed a couple matches
between them, and each time Creed had ultimately emerged the
victor. He was remarkably quick for his size, but he used it to his
advantage whenever he could, which was why Soran suspected he
ended up the victor. It would be interesting to see now that
Carmelita's genetic mods appeared to equalize her in terms of
strength.
"I would have agreed," Samuel pointed out. "But then I actually
fought her. It's insane how strong she is now."
"Strength isn't why," the man shook his head as he turned his
attention to Creed and Carmelita preparing to fight. "It's how he
fights."
"Have you seen him fight?" Soran asked, looking over. "Because
strength is an essential part of why he wins."
"Better, I've sparred with him myself," he answered. "Oh, sorry. I'm
James Nolan, Joint Task Force 2."
"Pleasure to meet you," James inclined his head. "Though I'm afraid
I'm unfamiliar with the unit."
Canada. So his initial reading on James had been close. "I wonder
why that wasn't mentioned," Soran muttered.
"He's trying to tire her out," Soran noted. "I don't think that'll work this
time."
Creed didn't seem deterred this time and stepped back at the last
possible instant which made Carmelita's charged punch hit air.
Creed sidestepped, grabbed it and hooked his leg under hers and
twisted her arm at the same time, flipping her over onto her back
with a loud thud . Creed stepped back and assumed a ready
position.
Now Creed finally took the initiative and stormed towards her and
began laying down a systematic routine of strikes to her chest, arms
and legs. Carmelita matched each blow with a block, but only just
since it was clear she wasn't able to fully anticipate every strike. But
the ones Creed did land didn't really seem to affect her at all.
Now Creed used his size and strength to keep her pinned down, and
no matter how much she struggled and thrashed, wasn't able to
remove him from her back due to his sheer size and body mass. She
kept it up for nearly a minute before finally going still. She said
something Soran couldn't hear, but it must have been a concession
since Creed stood up and then hauled her up.
"Told you he'd win," James said with a satisfied smile. "Strength isn't
a match for technique. Especially not his."
"Eh, debatable," James disagreed with a shrug. "I think these genetic
mods will test that assumption."
"Oh, I'm sure they'll eventually come up with some "perfect soldier,""
Samuel continued. "I was speaking more broadly. Because the idea
of what makes the "perfect" human is completely subjective."
"True," James agreed. "Though I wonder, are you going to undergo
the modification if asked?"
"Fair point," Samuel mused, looking up. "I hadn't thought of that."
"Well, for the record I'd also hold back," James said with a smirk.
"Though mostly because I'm not certain all the kinks have been
worked out of this program. You don't want to be part of the first
wave. The second or third is the best time to join. Much less risk of
complications."
That was the smart way to do things, but Soran wasn't convinced
that they'd refuse should the Commander ask them to be part of the
program. They were ultimately soldiers who followed orders, and
while Soran knew that the Commander would likely respect their
choice, it was anathema in the military to go against a superior
officer. Offers were often a masked form of orders.
The thing was that anyone asked would probably do it willingly, since
the Commander was someone who was universally respected
among the soldiers. It was an attitude he hadn't seen in… a long
time. Now that he knew the Commander a bit better, he had to admit
that the initial, and unusual, loyalty that he'd noted in the beginning
seemed to be well founded.
At the very least, the Commander knew what he was doing. Which
was relieving.
"XCOM only takes the best," Soran nodded. "Glad to have you."
"Thanks," James said. "But I think this will work out eventually. We'll
come together eventually. No matter the past, this threatens the
future for everyone . That can't be ignored."
Oh, it very well could be ignored. And since there had never been an
instance in human history where everyone came together for some
common good, he didn't exactly hold out any hope that this would be
the time. Humans were too diverse, especially today. The only way
the world would work together was by force, and there was currently
no organization powerful enough to force the United States, China
and Russia to work together, much less the EU.
But they probably already knew that. If the full forces of the army hit,
Soran wondered where they'd hit. With each major country
conquered, the chances of one of the remaining superpowers taking
it upon themselves to form one united government grew
exponentially. America would likely make the most sense to remove
first, or Russia.
Military power should be targeted first, and even though China had a
massive military, they were more of an economic power than military.
America was a military and economic power, not to mention they
would likely try to work with Russia and China instead of conquering
them. Whereas Russia and China wouldn't be so friendly.
Unlikely, since XCOM was just as secret as any black ops unit. They
couldn't have known.
He looked up and saw that Samuel and James had wandered off,
still talking. He looked back to where Carmelita was sitting and was
mildly surprised to see her still there. She looked pretty deep in
thought, likely wondering how she could have lost her match with
Creed. She still unsettled him, but right now she looked like a normal
confused human being instead of a merciless killing machine.
She looked up at his voice and scowled. "But I didn't now, did I? I
guess I should thank him."
"You should," Soran nodded. "At least it was now and not in the
field."
"Yeah," she muttered. "I guess gene mods can't improve everything."
"No, but you should take every advantage you can," Soran advised.
"You're faster, stronger and can jump farther than him. Use that. You
lost because you fought just as you had before."
"But I can watch and observe," Soran amended. "And you held back.
Why?"
She paused for a second before finally answering. "It felt like
cheating."
"True, true," she sighed. "Though I'm not sure it would have made
much of a difference. He's better than me, no way around that."
"It has been a long time since that's happened," Carmelita mused. "It
gives me a goal, at least. Beyond killing aliens."
There was silence for a few seconds. "Can I ask a question?" Soran
finally asked.
"Do you feel different?" Soran asked, crossing his arms. "After the
modification, I mean."
"So what will you do after the war ends?" Soran asked, wondering
what she'd say. "Assuming we win, of course."
"The aliens have a homeworld, yes?" She looked back up. "After we
push them back, I'm certain XCOM will follow and finish the job, and
when they do, I'm going to be there to wipe out their species once
and for all."
Well, fortunate that the Commander was more reasonable than that.
Although… Soran didn't necessarily think he'd rule out genocide if he
felt it was necessary. But he doubted it would be the first choice. He
wouldn't approve either way, no species was completely
irredeemable, but in this scenario it was unfortunately a very real
possibility.
That particular phrase he'd heard many times, but he'd always
considered it rather fanatical; something serious leaders didn't throw
around because the implications were staggering. And yet that
sentiment was growing, if not outright accepted, not just in XCOM,
but in the world at large. Extremism was likely to rise during turbulent
times, and fear made people accept otherwise irrational and
questionable ideas.
But in this case, Soran couldn't exactly fault them for being scared.
Unlike before, this had the potential to end in the destruction of
humanity. XCOM had seen the brutality of the invading forces, so
was it a surprise that they'd want to respond in kind?
No, it wasn't. But the only thing he could really do is hope the
Commander handled this with the reasonableness he'd seen before.
But time would tell for sure, and for Soran, he felt that time was
coming very soon.
Iran
He was dreaming.
The sun still beat down on him, but since he knew it wasn't real,
willed the temperature to remain at a comfortable level for him. He
saw the restaurant and Farida sitting at one of the tables just as he
remembered. She wore the common grab of Iranian women,
complete with an open-faced hijab. Not much different from the other
women walking around.
Farida took a sip of her water. "I wouldn't put it past you, to appear
and vanish her just to spite me."
The Commander also took a drink of the water that was in front of
him. He didn't know if that had been there to begin with or his
subconscious had manifested it. "It would be a waste of time. I've
accepted that this is just how things are here now."
"To your credit," Farida nodded, setting her drink down. "Even now,
that's something I can admire. You at least acknowledge the truth
and don't run from it."
"I was thinking you would tell me," the Commander answered.
"Because I have no idea."
The Commander sighed. "You also know perfectly well that one,
there will be no alliance unless North Korea makes concessions, and
two, my options are limited and I have to do whatever it takes to
prepare for the final invasion."
"No," the Commander shook his head. "I don't think so. I wouldn't
have married you if you were that blinded by emotion. The only
reason you're like this now is because you're dead."
"It was also our first real talk," Farida amended. "Not as unlikely
partners, but as… well, friends." Her voice got softer at the end.
"I'm glad you remember that," she said softly. "I suppose it's not a
surprise you'd be reminded of it when you're choosing my
replacement."
The Commander pursed his lips. He knew that it was only an illusion
before him, but he'd hated hearing her so… betrayed and found it
impossible to get mad at her for it. "This is about Vahlen."
She shrugged. "You think I wouldn't know?"
She had a point. "But that doesn't change anything. She is not a
"replacement" as you so eloquently put it, nor is it a betrayal. You're
dead."
"On some level you don't believe that," Farida said quietly.
"Otherwise I wouldn't be discussing it with you. We don't talk about
issues you've settled in your mind."
"No," Farida paused. "It's not that. You're afraid to tell her who you
really are."
Farida smirked. "You really have to ask that question? Yes, you
should be. Perhaps she'll see you for the liar and manipulator you
are."
"She deserves better than you," Farida shot at him. "And I think that
you know that."
"I believe your previous wife has spoken enough," the alien said with
a satisfied smile and lowered his hand, palm down. The ground
under Farida's glass cage opened and it fell into it perfectly. "Now,
with her out of the way, we can talk." The alien finished as he walked
over.
"Of course you would have," the alien placated, lacing his fingers
together. "But I have no patience for wasting my time, and she was
certainly wasting yours. You didn't answer my question, why do you
tolerate her questioning you?"
"That's not the point," the Commander sighed. "I need to be able to
defend what I do, otherwise I have no business giving orders that
affect nations. You might not understand that, but I need to make
sure I'm not living in an echo chamber."
"I suppose we have different opinions on this," the alien said, looking
back at him. "Though I do understand you reasoning."
"Because you are of interest to me," the alien stated, turning to face
him, hands clasped behind his back. "Few species are worth taking
note of, and individuals within them, even less so. There have only
been several individuals who had attracted my attention, and you are
one of them."
"It matters little," the alien answered dismissively. "But your time is
running out, for you and your species."
"Provided you had the army and technology, you would pose a
threat," the alien dismissed. "You lack both. Your weapons are still
primitive to what we wield. We can replace our forces easily, every
soldier you lose is a costly endeavor. You cannot fight a war of
attrition, Commander. Unfortunate you are so opposed to us. You
could have been useful."
There was silence between them for a few minutes. "What are you?"
The Commander finally asked. "A sectoid? A thin man? Something
we haven't fought yet?"
The alien looked at him, smiling as he did so. "Does it really matter?"
The Commander raised an eyebrow. "Is that your name or what you
are?"
The alien, Aegis, looked back at him. "I could ask you the same
question, Commander ."
Aegis spun on his heel and motioned towards the frozen crowd.
"Humans cannot accept a position where they are not in charge," he
stated. "There is only one cure for that. This mindset must be
changed. The leaders must be purged and the people shown that
betrayal, sedition and war is not only unacceptable, it is wrong . And
the only way to accomplish this is war. Brutality that the masses
won't forget."
The Commander had never thought of it that way… but when put like
that it was disturbing. "And what makes us worth all this trouble?"
The Commander demanded. "Why not let us live in peace and move
on to another species?"
"Because our time is running short," Aegis said. "You will be the final
species before we begin moving into the inner galaxy. We are not
the only advanced species in the galaxy, and when we reveal
ourselves, we will need every advantage possible."
The implications of that hadn't really registered with him, but the
underlying reason was clear. "You need us if you go to war."
"No," Aegis stated flatly. "But your species has too much potential to
ignore. You are worth the investment here."
The Commander's lips curled up. "We'll see how that holds up. The
cost will be high, I assure you."
"I tend to agree," the Commander nodded cautiously, not quite sure
what Aegis was getting at. "But hampering your allies unusually isn't
a wise strategy."
"And having allies that seek to depose you isn't wise either," Aegis
responded with a smile. "EXALT is under the illusion that they are…
playing us. Believing they can use us to fulfill their goal of controlling
the world. An impossible dream, but it suits us now to have them
believe that "the aliens" can be used so easily."
"Oh, I don't want that," Aegis shook his head. "I want you to hurt
them. You are looking for the Mercado Estate, yes?"
He raised a hand and the entire world changed in a whirl and the
Commander suddenly found himself on a balcony, skyscrapers and
city surrounding him. Aegis walked up beside him and pointed at a
modest skyscraper almost directly across from them. "67 Tao Lu,
28893 Beijing, China," Aegis said. "That is it, Commander. I'd advise
you check beforehand, but you will see I'm correct."
The Commander looked over and he was gone. He knew then that
he could have woken up then, but held off for the moment. He
needed to think.
"So you're saying that it… spoke to you?" Bradford confirmed slowly.
"Again?"
"To his credit, the alien cipher he gave you is still relevant," Zhang
reminded him, as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. "We
have yet to detect or discover any issues."
"It still doesn't make any more sense," Van Doorn said, pinching the
bridge of his nose. "Are the aliens trying to lose?"
"The deal the aliens and EXALT have is currently benefiting EXALT
more than the aliens," the Commander began. "And EXALT clearly
intends to betray them at some point, probably when we've been
defeated or even sooner. The aliens aren't exactly fans of that, but
EXALT is an additional tool against us now."
"Unless it were stopped," Shen said, looking around the room. "The
aliens clearly engineered this war between us. Perhaps… continuing
the fight isn't the answer."
There was silence around the room. "Quite honestly, I would prefer
that," the Commander finally said. "But that isn't an option anymore.
If EXALT doesn't recognize the aliens are playing them, they never
will. And they were against us before the aliens became involved.
Remember the cyber-attack? Germany? Aside from that I can't
ignore a global organization manipulating events for their own gain."
Zhang nodded. "We can't ignore the threat they pose, alien allied or
not."
"In the event that is an option, I will speak with the Director," the
Commander said, looking at Van Doorn. "Even if it's unlikely, it might
cause internal issues if I mention that the aliens are aware of their
'subterfuge.' I'll give a short speech on how the aliens are using both
of us and the whole spiel. They won't listen, but I do want to gauge
reactions."
"Of course it's not a good idea," Zhang agreed, crossing his arms as
he looking at the map intently. "But perhaps I should have rephrased
that: How angry do you want the Chinese to be at you?"
"If they're smart they'll understand why we couldn't tell them," the
Commander insisted.
"I'm sure they'll understand," Van Doorn said with a sigh. "But I can
guarantee they won't like it. It'll set a very exploitable precedent if
they let it slide too; because then any covert unit can perform
operations in China without informing them, then claim it's because
the government is 'compromised.'"
"So what will the ramifications be?" The Commander asked, looking
at Van Doorn. "I suppose they'll cut their funding? Denounce us
publically?"
"Probably both," Van Doorn shrugged. "They might leave the
Council, worst case."
Zhang shook his head. "And leave Russia and the United States
alone in the Council? Unlikely. Not to mention antagonizing us isn't a
wise move."
She blinking once, and shook her head and focused her attention on
him. "I think it's self-explanatory. Who is the greater enemy here?
EXALT or China? If EXALT, we should take every advantage
possible and deal with the Chinese afterwards. We can justify this;
its China's acceptance that will cause problems."
"If we get a handle on this early, it might also negate some of the
negative effects," Bradford noted thoughtfully. "Van Doorn might be
able to hold his press conference immediately after the attack."
Vahlen's eyes lit up at that. "Yes! I still have the bodies of the failed
test subjects in storage we can use. It would be easy to say they
were found at the Mercado Estate."
"And would expose the heinous deeds of EXALT for all to see,"
Zhang continued, his voice sounding almost smug even if his
expression remained neutral. "It would prove that EXALT is not worth
defending, and that we were justified in our attack."
"And that all of this happened under the watchful eye of the Chinese
won't go unnoticed," Bradford commented. "That actually might
make them pull back on public comment."
"As long as we're aware of that," Shen agreed with a sharp nod. "But
I do agree in this case. While questionable, the plan here is sound."
"After we secure the Estate, Van Doorn will have his press
conference later," the Commander continued. "He'll end it with
something along the lines of "We have evidence of the evil deeds of
EXALT," and so on, which will lead to us releasing the footage and
test subject corpses."
There were nods across the room. "I suppose I'll have to prepare,"
Van Doorn sighed. "This is going to be so much fun."
"As long as it's not the cheap stuff," Bradford amended. "If we're
going to celebrate, we're doing it proper."
"Sorry," she sighed, looking up. "I was just thinking about what the
alien told you. Beyond where the Mercado Estate is."
"Ah," the Commander nodded. It would make sense she was fixated
on the other interesting bits. "You mean about what Aegis said about
the aliens themselves."
"True, true," Vahlen agreed, a slight sigh escaping her lips. "But I
can't help but wonder what these aliens are, what they're like. Even
this Aegis; I'm curious about his species, what drove them to their
conquest of other worlds?"
"I think he made that clear," the Commander said. "Because we have
'potential,' whatever that means, and they need an army for when
they move the more advanced species."
"Maybe," Vahlen shook her head. "But something still doesn't add
up. I think we're missing something and the missing piece is driving
me crazy."
He put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, don't worry too much about it.
We'll catch one of these aliens one day and you can ask it all the
questions you want."
Vahlen smiled at him, a full and genuine one. He knew her serious
persona did initially put people off, but she really did have a beautiful
smile. It was enough for him to ignore the other signs of stress on
her face, the various specks of substances from the lab on it, the
faint circles under her eyes and unruly strands of hair out of place.
Stuff he'd not have notice before being enhanced.
But he'd never really nitpicked much around women he cared about.
"Maybe as a Christmas present?" Vahlen suggested lightly. "I'd like
that."
The Commander gave her a smile of his own. "I'll look into that.
Hopefully the stores won't be out of stock."
She chuckled lightly. "Hopefully not, but I won't hold it against you."
She reached up and gently grasped his hand in her lithe one and
lowered it. "I know you're enhanced now," she continued quietly. "But
you're not invincible. I sadly wasn't able to make that happen. But
you surviving to Christmas would be good enough for me."
"Mhmm," she looked up and down his body. "I hope I did a good
enough job."
He gave her hand a slight squeeze, not too hard to avoid hurting her.
"Trust me," he said lightly. "You did."
"Well then," she let go of his hand reluctantly. "Let's see you prove
it."
She was still under investigation, but initial reports by Zhang were
indicating she was clean. A relief, really. She was proving to be an
invaluable part of the team and he'd have hated to execute her for
treason. Still, she wasn't cleared yet, but the Commander felt it safe
enough to accept information she had and consider her suggestions.
"Varies on which part of the city," Jackson sighed and shook her
head. "I've split the protesters into several categories now. Violent,
non-violent and confrontational."
She nodded and began tapping on her tablet. Several parts of Brazil
were highlighted in green, predominately close to the cities. "The
non-violent ones are the largest and most coordinated," Jackson
began, looking at him. "Predicative, as you've probably guessed.
They're trying to strategically protest where it'll have the most effect,
which is now at the capital. The primary method of communication is
social media, which we're monitoring for signs of extremism."
"No," Jackson bit her lower lip. "Bradford didn't think it would be wise
to rely on them and I agree. Any potential threats are forwarded to
the acting military, which at the moment is split from the
government."
Yes, it would. Which was why the police were probably tolerating
these protestors for now. Because one wrong move would likely turn
the city into a warzone and what would follow after that were mass
arrests and detentions, something that neither the police, nor military
had the resources for.
"So the violent protesters are outside the cities?" The Commander
asked, looking back at the screen.
"Sort of," Ariel tapped on her tablet again and red sections of the
country appeared, much more scattered than the big green pockets.
"They're operating close to cells, and have attempted several coups
in much smaller local cities and neighborhoods. The military is
currently putting them down and I suspect they'll be gone by the end
of the day."
"Ever since the military took control of the Federal District, there's
been no word," she answered, shaking her head. "I think we're
looking at a coup."
"One sec," Jackson raised a finger and the image of an older light-
skinned Hispanic woman with graying cropped black hair appeared.
She wore the dark forest green uniform of an officer with the
accompanying medals and rank badge. If he had to guess, she was
probably about his age, maybe a bit older. Her face was devoid of
wrinkles, but was clearly worn and aged.
"And the Navy and Air Force? Are they going along?"
"It's not confirmed," Jackson warned, her lips twitching. "But if either
branch was firmly against it, they would have acted by now. But if
this is a coup, things are probably going to get restricted very fast,
especially with her in charge."
Huh. Jackson had never really mentioned that, and he'd never taken
the time to look at her file. "You're from Argentina?"
"No, no," she shook her head, smiling. "Born and raised American.
My parents immigrated years before I was born, but I've been there
quite a few times. Most of my extended family is still there, in fact."
"Well, I hope that everything turns out alright for them," the
Commander said, inclining his head. "But I'm not sure the situation
will be resolved for some time."
"I know," Jackson sighed. "But I'll still try, I want to do that much, not
just for them, but everyone in the continent."
"Look into that," he ordered. "And prepare for a surge in talk about
XCOM."
Everything looked in place. Everything felt tight and snug, and the
weight that normally slowed him down seemed to be non-existent.
He could feel the additional padding, but it wouldn't hamper him
thanks to his modification. He was still fascinated that the rims of his
irises were a faint gold, the color of MELD. It was a subtle, yet
noticeable change of the modification that he rather liked.
But now it was time to form an assault plan with Zhang and Patricia.
He felt it was time to involve her a bit more in the planning stages
now so they could take full advantage of her abilities. She'd proven
herself to be an excellent field commander, which was why she was
going to be his second-in-command this mission.
Seventeen soldiers was far larger than any previous assault unit. But
EXALT was no doubt expecting them, and he wanted to send a
message of overwhelming force they wouldn't forget. With Patricia's
psionics, his and Carmelita's gene mods and Myra, he figured that
this time, XCOM had the clear advantage.
He turned on his heel and began making his way towards his locker.
Time to get to work. He grabbed the gauss assault rifle and laser
sniper rifle mounted inside it and placed them on the slots on his
back. The gauss sniper rifle would have been more powerful, but he
didn't believe they'd be in a situation where that extra power would
be needed. Aside from the low clip size, the laser weapons could still
cut entrances and that might be more useful this time.
A gauss pistol, med-kit and smoke grenade. All good, time to head to
Zhang.
He'd also let Van Doorn bring Herman up to speed on what was
going to happen, minus the fabricated evidence, so he wouldn't be
completely unprepared. He could imagine the protests when he
learned that China wasn't going to be told ahead of time. A shame,
but Bradford would deal with him if he became too disruptive, and
the Commander honestly didn't think he'd be a problem.
He still got the impression that Herman didn't exactly like him, but
was without a doubt someone he could work with. However, he did
wonder if the Council was pleased with his performance. He'd clearly
not shared anything damaging, and the faction of the Council that
was against him couldn't have been pleased at that.
But until Herman gave him a reason not to, the Commander no
longer considered him a dangerous threat. EXALT and the aliens
had that pegged for now, and it was time to deal with them. He soon
arrived at XCOM Intelligence Control, his helmet tucked under his
arm as he entered the room.
Patricia was already there and armored up as well, her red armor
just as marred as his, only even more noticeable since any
disruption showed up much clearer on color. Both she and Zhang
were looking at a hologram of a skyscraper, both stopped talking as
he entered. Patricia immediately snapped into a salute and Zhang
just nodded.
"Probable," Zhang agreed. "But there's more. All the entrances are
barred or trapped. The cyber defenses are equivalent to the
Pentagon and the amount of energy the building draws is
substantially more than the surrounding block, much less an 'empty'
building."
"So our best chance is the roof," the Commander noted, pointing to
the roof of the building. "Safest, at any rate."
"I would advise that," Zhang nodded. "We weren't able to detect any
AA defenses, but that doesn't mean they don't exist. And I would still
expect ambushes to be prepared."
She closed her eyes. "I should be able to. But we'll be in a heavily
populated area so… I'm not sure I'll be as accurate with so many
people around me."
"Well, then this will be a good test," the Commander said. "You won't
be working with small groups all the time."
"I know," she sighed. "It might be easier than I think. Soldiers have
noticeably different minds, XCOM and EXALT even more so."
"I also want to try using your powers offensively," the Commander
suggested, looking into her eyes. "How you do so is up to you, but
limiting yourself to just sensing them is a waste."
"But that takes time," Patricia pointed out. "A few minutes at least."
The Commander pursed his lips. "Then I would say this is either a
good opportunity to get faster, or a chance to develop a new way of
using your power."
"If that's the case, I might require cover," Patricia said slowly. "It will
require my full concentration."
"Yes," the Commander confirmed. "We didn't know it at the time, but
it did explain why those soldiers were more skilled than the EXALT
guards we've fought previously."
He shook his head. "No. But expect traps, ambushes and choke
points."
"Good point," Zhang scowled. "Let's hope the floors are weak
inside."
That was probably the most relevant information they needed. Time
to actually make a plan. "Now let's get a plan together. Zhang, did
you get my soldier list…"
"I know," the Commander sighed. "But I've fought and seen so much
that it's not quite as frightening or disturbing as the first few times.
Very little can surprise me."
"You had a flash of curiosity," she shrugged. "Yes, I'm still a bit
nervous before entering a firefight. A bit more so now that there's
additional pressure."
"As long as you control it, that's all that matters," the Commander
encouraged. "And you're perfectly capable of what I ask. I know it."
He waved the door open and strode in, his hands clasped behind his
back with Patricia flanking his right side. The fifteen soldiers and two
pilots waiting for them quickly formed into two lines and snapped into
salutes.
"At ease," he ordered, letting his gaze sweep over them, his HUD
identifying the soldiers before him, but most he knew by sight. Even
the newer soldiers he knew their names and histories, and after this
he wouldn't forget them for sure. There was a bond forged in combat
that could never be broken after.
" This is Big Sky to Citadel Commander," Big Sky said. "We're
departing now. Burning Sky, Gray Sky, you copy?"
" Loading MEC now," Gray Sky answered. "We'll be airborne in one."
" Copy," Big Sky affirmed, his tone on the edge between cocky and
serious. "We'll be waiting. Let's go kill some traitors."
"Probably," the Commander agreed. "But we're not pressed for time
here. We'll clear floor-by-floor if needed. We've also got Patricia to
warn us of any possible ambushes."
" I'll sense for hidden groups," Patricia said. "They won't be able to
hide behind walls."
"They'll probably let us make the first move," the Commander said.
"So we'll have time to set up. That's best case though. Once we're in
position on the roof, Myra will be dropped and we'll proceed inward."
"Will Myra be able to fit inside?" Marten asked, looking around the
skyranger. "I'm, uh, not sure she'll fit in the elevator."
"Worst case, she cuts a hole in the floor," the Commander answered.
"We'll have a better idea once we land. We don't know the layout, so
we're going in blind beyond the first floor."
The Commander stood and made his way near the exit and the rest
of the soldiers stood and unhooked their weapons with a variety of
clicks and hisses. Some still used laser weapons, the rest gauss.
Soran stood beside him, holding the gauss rifle calmly. "This is it," he
muttered, seemingly more to himself than anyone else.
But life was always full of risks, and all he had to do was land on one
specific skyscraper.
Easy enough.
"Deploy!" He roared and charged off the ramp and onto the roof
below.
The Commander hit the ground with a soft thud and took a moment
to observe his surroundings as the rest of the soldiers landed behind
him. Immediately to his right was an elevated helipad. Empty, but it
might provide some cover should they be attacked out here. There
were also six AC units on the rightmost side, which would also be
essential.
Still, there was precious little cover everywhere else. But probably
twenty feet in front was the entrance to the Estate itself. Two wide
glass doors were the only visible entrances he could see. Concrete
walls extended from the doors to almost the edge of the roof itself,
and they lacked any sort of windows or openings that he could see,
and the walls were devoid of any sort of paint or covering. It had
clearly been designed to be as inconspicuous as possible.
But just from here he could see just into the initial room. A strange
black pyramid caught his attention as it was the centerpiece in the
entrance. A couple portraits hung up on the wall of unknown people
and he could see a couple red rugs that led into opposite rooms to
the right and left of the entrance. It looked rather luxurious, with the
two lush oak chairs and ornate table with a vase of healthy roses,
which he supposed wasn't a surprise for an organization as old and
powerful as EXALT.
"Got it," she answered, raising her gauss autorifle and taking her
place beside him. The soldiers with longer range weapons went
behind the helipad ramps and railings and raised their weapons at
the entrance. The rest of them took positions behind the AC units,
the ones with the new gauss variant of the shotgun, the 'Alloy
Cannon,' taking a more forward position.
Myra landed soon after and took a place near the center, her own
weapon trained on the entrance as they waited. "We're in position,"
Creed affirmed from the helipad, looking over to visually confirm with
a nod.
"There are twenty, maybe thirty in the room beyond," she said, her
voice doubled and sounding uncomfortably like Aegis. "They know
we're here. They're coming."
A sense of calm suddenly fell upon him, the world instantly seemed
to become crisper, clear, even though that shouldn't have been
possible. The sounds of the night faded away except for the sounds
of their breathing and the movements of the soldiers. He felt a hand
touch his shoulder pad and grip it, and he turned to see Patricia
doing it, faint wisps of purple energy sparking off her.
Just a few seconds more. The soldiers were just stepping into the
adjoining rooms… now.
"Fire!"
Both soldiers fired even before the first letter was out of his mouth.
Both rockets sped towards the entrance and shattered the glass
doors as they hit and finally crashed into the hard wall. Or at least,
would have, had a group of EXALT soldiers not charged through
first.
The night lit up with a tremendous explosion that rocked the roof.
The odd sculpture that had been in the middle of the opening room
was gone and the Commander saw the area splattered with
shrapnel, fire and blood. It also broke whatever trance Patricia had
put them in and the world resumed it's normal noises and
distractions.
There must have been more EXALT soldiers directly behind the first
wave, because they immediately took up positions behind the ruined
walls and began firing their laser weapons. XCOM returned fire
instantly, barrels flashing red as they spat out deadly projectiles. The
Commander peeked out from cover and got a first real look at them.
Yep, they were definitely Venator. At least six armored men and
women were methodically aiming and shooting, seemingly
nonplussed by the death of their comrades. They were well trained
too, they were dodging gauss and laser fire from all sides while
managing to fire off some shots of their own.
The Commander lined up a shot with his rifle and fired. The EXALT
soldiers he aimed at fell back, his head virtually gone. It hadn't even
been a difficult shot thanks to his enhanced eyesight.
"Look to the walls!" Veronika called out and the Commander noted
suddenly that some of the bare concrete walls on both sides of the
burning entrance he'd noted earlier slid up to reveal twin turrets per
wall, each one manned by an EXALT soldier, though these wore red
bandannas. Well, it seemed like they held something interesting after
all.
The turrets themselves were single-barreled, though massive in size,
about twice as large as an XCOM autolaser and were built behind
the wall so the more delicate machinery of the turret was protected.
The gaps in between the turret and wall, which allowed them to
swivel and aim were apparently unprotected, but he did note that
there was some kind of glass or plastic that covered the gunner's
heads, which he assumed was bulletproof at the very least.
The entire front line of XCOM was forced into cover as the lasers
raked over the initial area, scorching the metal which also sparked
with each laser pulse. "Myra! Take care of the entrance!" The
Commander ordered as he heard a lull in the fire. "Everyone else
concentrate fire on the turrets."
Carmelita peeked out and took a look where the turrets on the left
side were, leaned back and turned on her heel. Taking a step back,
she jumped up into the air, over the AC unit towards the far wall,
landing in a perfect place between the two turrets that couldn't swivel
to aim at her. James took her spot, and he, Veronika, Patricia and
Carmelita began firing on the turrets.
A scream rang out and the Commander looked to see the ruins of
the turret closest to the left side of the building, the barrel shattered
and blood splattering the broken glass of the head protection. He
couldn't see directly into the building, but he assumed that the
person manning the turret had died.
Another shout from the right side indicated that another turret had
been neutralized. "Hold position!" He called to Myra. He didn't want
to split them up yet.
"Ah!" Marten grunted as a laser beam hit his shoulder, forcing him
back. The remaining turret was still firing at them, making a retreat
suicide. The Commander suddenly noticed one of the snipers put
down her rifle and raise a very familiar weapon in its place while
aiming towards the helipad.
"Rocket! Clear the helipad!" The Commander yelled and tossed his
smoke grenade into the area to give them some cover. The five
XCOM soldiers began running back as the rocket struck the ground
near them a second later. Shun, Samuel and Lesedi were thrown to
the ground by the ensuing shockwave, but seemed otherwise fine.
Soran tossed another smoke grenade as sniper fire continued
raining down, some striking the armor.
Marten and Tayla weren't so lucky. Marten was torn apart by the
proximity of the rocket striking him, and Tayla suffered the same fate,
albeit that she didn't die instantly. Missing several fingers and
covered in blood from her wounds, she tried raising her hand for
help, but several precise sniper shots ended her life before the
Commander could even think of rushing over to help.
"Two down!" Lesedi called furiously as she returned sniper fire with
her own weapon. Still behind the far back of the helipad, she'd
avoided being caught anywhere near the blast.
" Got my arm and leg," he heard Samuel answered. " I'll be fine. Get
Blake for Shun, the shrapnel got her bad."
Ok, maybe they'd all not gotten out ok. He risked a glance back to
Samuel, then scowled as he realized that they were behind the back
AC unit and he couldn't see. He quickly adjusted his helmet feed to
Samuels and he hadn't exaggerated.
It looked like the armor had absorbed most of the blast, but the
shrapnel had embedded itself in her joints and gaps in the armor. He
could see her chest rising and falling rapidly; not a good sign. "Blake!
Get back and help her!"
"Copy!" Blake yelled from his left and began running back.
" More are coming," Myra informed, taking a step back as a new
barrage of lasers hit her, leaving her armor more scorched than ever.
"James! Switch weapons!" He called pulling out his gauss rifle by the
barrel. James didn't question him and tossed his alloy cannon
towards the Commander and he tossed his weapon in return. The
Commander caught the square-barreled weapon, easily. Like all the
gauss weapons, it was a solid weapon, it's barrel plated with alien
alloys and the core glowing a soft gold. He cocked the weapon and
looked at Carmelita.
Carmelita landed beside him, falling to one knee and quickly rose.
The Commander took the opportunity to look around the roof.
Ventilations shafts ran across it in an apparent random order. They
might provide cover in a tight situation, but the Commander didn't
exactly think they'd hold up well against lasers.
A concrete wall about waist high ran around the perimeter, and the
side facing the current warzone had several snipers nests set up, the
EXALT snipers focusing fully on the much larger squad down below.
The Commander also noted some skylights, two roughly placed in
the middle, and two in the back of the roof. They appeared to be
glass and seemed to lead down inside the building itself. The
skylights themselves were angled up, almost structured like a mini-
roof of it's own.
Interesting. He'd have to make use of that once the snipers were
dealt with.
In one fluid motion he kicked her to the ground and pinned her with
his boot while following up with another blast from the alloy cannon
into her head which turned it into a red splat on the concrete. This
weapon was now in the running for his favorite. Remembering the
others, he quickly spun around but needn't have worried.
Two EXALT soldiers laid on the ground, their chests and limbs ripped
apart from Carmelita's alloy cannon. One body was sprawled against
a skylight, his blood coloring the glass a dark red and the other was
hung over a now-dented ventilation shaft, most of his head gone and
leaking blood onto the concrete.
The final two were retreating across the roof, leaping over the
ventilation shafts and running over the skylights, firing frantically with
laser pistols while Carmelita stormed toward them, basking in their
terror.
And they were terrified. He could see it in their eyes. Their red
bandannas meant they weren't part of the Venator EXALT soldiers,
these were probably just guards realizing their lives were about to
end. Carmelita seemed in no rush to finish the job either, as he saw
her maneuvering them into the far left corner of the roof. Panic made
their laser beams go far to the right and left, even making the rare hit
was barely noticed by Carmelita.
The Commander decided to save some time and leapt over the
skylights and ventilation shafts and landed on the left side of the
roof, a short way across from her and the terrified EXALT soldiers,
essentially ensuring that they wouldn't keep retreating.
His body turned red as his throat was shredded, along with his jaw
and shoulders. The body was thrown back by the force into the
barrier where the corpse went still. The Commander looked over to
see Carmelita slit the man's throat and then toss him off the building,
blood spilling from his neck as he fell to his death.
She looked over, her helmet and armor splattered with blood. "It
worked."
Well, he couldn't exactly argue that. "Fair point," he conceded.
"Patricia! We've cleared the roof. Status?"
" Both turrets are destroyed and we're moving inside," she
answered. "Shun is stabilized and I've left Soran to watch her. We're
currently holding outside the deep interior."
Both the Commander and Carmelita fired their alloy cannons into the
skylight and it shattered after a few volleys. Carmelita pulled out her
laser pistol and quickly cut the beams impeding their way as the
shattered glass fell to the floor. Their way clear, both jumped into the
room and landed in the back of it, large floor-to-ceiling windows
behind them.
His first impressions had been correct; this was one of the most
ornamented rooms he'd ever seen. Red rungs lined the floors and
skins of rare animals were displayed prominently throughout.
Portraits and paintings hung upon the walls and every piece of
furniture was a rich, expensive oak.
There was also something like a second floor over the whole room.
At each side he noted a stairway the lead up to it, which then
extended to something like a balcony almost up to the entrances that
let to this room on the left and right. These two apparent balconies,
which were lined with wooden railings and red rugs on the floors,
were connected by one overarching bridge which overlooked the
entire room.
The room also had a small u-shaped depression in it, starting from
near the entrances, and then wrapping around the elevated
centerpiece of the room. The Commander noted two more sets of
stairs that led down right from their own position, leading into the
depression that seemed primarily devoted to housing expensive
pictures and items.
But what really caught his attention was the centerpiece of the room.
A massive red hologlobe was displayed in the center of the room,
elevated above the depression. The Commander didn't know if this
was a coincidence or not, but Carmelita summed up his feelings
pretty clearly.
The Commander then swept the room for enemies. Two sets of four
were positioned facing Patricia's oncoming attack from both sides,
some in the depression, some out of it. They were more entrenched
than outside, which would have worked well, had he and Carmelita
not been behind them. The two balconies on either side also held
two soldiers, more snipers using the sniper's nest equipment from
the roof, who began firing at XCOM, who were taking cover behind
the nearby walls.
The Commander had no clue what she'd said, but the results
became clear soon enough. One of the EXALT soldiers suddenly
turned to the man she was entrenched behind and opened fire. "Die,
traitor!" She yelled and began firing at the other shocked EXALT
soldiers.
"Let's help her out," Carmelita said, raising her weapon. "Left or
right?"
She nodded and they both charged into the ornate room. The
Commander leapt up on the bridge connecting the balconies, easily
clearing the wooden railing and began approaching the oblivious
soldiers too preoccupied with XCOM to notice him behind them. The
Commander noted with interest that crossed flagstaffs with spear
tips hung on the wall, one with the flag of China, the other Russia.
Interesting.
But not relevant at the moment. He fired at the first soldier, the alloy
cannon shredding his back and he fell forward with a scream of
surprise. The other turned around with a shout as the Commander
grabbed one of the flags hanging up and quickly jabbed the end into
the man's throat with lightning speed.
Silence fell over the room and the Commander rushed over to join
Patricia. "Good work," he congratulated, noting the corpse of the
woman who'd betrayed EXALT. "How did you do it?"
She took a shuddering breath. "I set a trigger. A word that when she
heard, she would suddenly realize that her soldiers were traitors and
should be killed. I'm not sure how long it would have lasted, but
enough for a distraction."
"I'm fine," Patricia protested weakly as she lifted her helmet off her.
She looked exhausted, her face was flushed and sweaty, the irises
were much bigger than they should have been and her breath
ragged.
"No, you're not," Creed answered. "You pushed yourself too far."
Which was a going to be a problem. They still have the rest of the
building to clear and he was by no means convinced that EXALT
was defeated. They were winning, but there was still much to do.
"I agree," Blake nodded. "Your psionics took a toll. You need a break
at the very least."
"No!" She scowled, and forced herself up. "You need me now!"
"I don't know," she growled, her exhaustion clearly cutting through.
"But I'm doing a lot of stuff I didn't know I could do today. Maybe this
won't work, but I want to try and it's better than me sitting out."
Nothing yet.
They cautiously made their way down the drab concrete stairs,
weapons raised for any traps or soldiers. They descended for what
seemed like a long ways until they found a door. The Commander
and Carmelita once again took positions, but this time the
Commander looked at Patricia who seemed a bit more stable now.
"One sec," she murmured and they waited anxiously for a couple
minutes until Patricia slumped forward, forcing Creed to fall to one
knee to keep her from keeling over. "Wait for it," she muttered. "You'll
know when to go in."
A muffled explosion rocked the floor and the Commander didn't have
time to argue. "Stay with her!" He ordered Creed and kicked open
the doors to reveal a wide white lab room. Tables, sensors, glass
containers and pods were set up in an organized way and it
extended throughout the entire floor.
"Myra, now!" He said and they charged in. The bodies of several
EXALT soldiers were thrown against some overturned tables, their
bodies ripped as though by a grenade. There were still eight more
soldiers who immediately began firing at the approaching XCOM
soldiers.
The white room was instantly filled with deadly lasers and projectiles.
The Commander found himself by Fakhr who helped him turn over a
table for cover. "You still have a rocket left?" He asked as he
switched to his laser sniper rifle.
"Yes," she confirmed as she laid down fire against two Venator
EXALT soldiers. "But only one."
At that the air around her rippled and the man began thrashing as
the distortion began to affect him as well. The Commander didn't
know how long it lasted, all of them were entranced and concerned
by the spectacle in front of them. After what he could only assume
was minutes, the man's eyes rolled up into his head and he went
completely limp.
Patricia let go of his throat and stepped back. "Done," she said
quietly, her voice much stronger. "I guess it worked."
"I don't think so," Patricia answered as she pulled on her gauntlet.
"He's unconscious now, I think. But I didn't try to kill him. But I did
learn something interesting, there's only one more floor with EXALT
soldiers."
"Yes," Patricia confirmed. "They sent most of their soldiers to the first
floor. They thought that would be more than enough. The remaining
ones are making a last stand below."
"There are rooms here," she said in a trance. "Four groups of three
set to ambush us. I can take care of one. Then one lone person in
another."
The hallways than branched two separate ways, left and right.
Commander took the left and Carmelita took the right. The soldiers
evenly split up with no words since they just stuck with the side they
were already on. Patricia at his side, the Commander slowly kept
advancing down the hall. Patricia thrust out an arm, stopping him
immediately. "In here, waiting."
"Clear!" The Commander called, then stepped back into the hallway.
The Commander also smiled under his helmet. He'd heard that one
before, and back then it might have been an issue. But now…"Not
willingly, no," the Commander agreed. "Fortunately, we don't need
you to."
His body shuddered as dozens of bullets ripped into it and then fell
to the floor with a thud. Samuel walked over to the body and knelt
down, and gingerly lifted up a hand grenade Diguon had strapped to
his belt.
"I'm sorry," Patricia murmured, letting her arms fall to her sides. "I
should have sensed his intentions. I could have stopped him."
"Not your fault," the Commander assured her. "We should have
guessed he'd rather die than go with us. Come on, we might as well
see what this setup here is. And don't worry, Patricia, he won't be the
only EXALT leader we'll catch."
"Huh," the Commander said, looking over her shoulder. "I didn't
know that was a thing."
"I don't think it is," Fakhr shook her head. "But EXALT seems to have
something like it. What's interesting is that there's a list of outgoing
calls. No names or locations, but we might be able to call one of
them."
Saudia and Ethan stood waiting. Ethan was pacing, Saudia was
more controlled, though no less concerned. They'd received the
signal indicating the Mercado Estate was under attack several hours
ago, which had come as a surprise to all of them. That meant that
XCOM had bypassed the Chinese and attacked directly.
A risky move that she didn't think that the Commander of XCOM
would have taken. Even if they lost the element of surprise, they
wouldn't have to risk political fallout from the Chinese. But apparently
this Commander either didn't care or had already anticipated it and
had a plan to mitigate it. Each one was worrying and she was
fortunate she'd elected to remove the critical staff and projects from
the Estate early, else this would be much worse.
She'd miscalculated here, not just her either. Diguon had been
certain they would hear of an XCOM attack beforehand, and then
have a few precious minutes to prepare. But now all they could do
was wait and see. Given how much time had passed, Saudia was
beginning to suspect that the Estate had fallen. Diguon might be
captured or dead, which was the biggest blow since it would take
time to find a replacement.
Unfortunately, the Mercado family was probably the worst one to
have a sudden vacancy. Their size and split between the Russian
and Chinese sides was going to have both of them vying to place
their own candidates in place. It unfortunately wasn't a simple matter
of succession either, the inner circle of Mercado advisors ultimately
decided after much deliberation.
But they didn't have time for that now. XCOM had solidified itself into
a legitimate threat with this attack, and they couldn't afford the power
plays that would normally follow the death of a family head. In a
more peaceful time, she'd have let them sort it out, but now it might
be best to demand that she appoint Diguon's successor.
Saudia looked over his shoulder at the footage and blinked. "What is
that ?"
A robot that towered over the rest of the XCOM soldiers and
shrugged off laser and ballistic fire like water. Saudia kept watching
as the machine charged toward the front entrance of the Estate and
shot cones of flame into the soldiers.
"I suppose this explains the charred bodies we recovered," Saudia
muttered in realization. "This-"
Ethan put down his tablet and walked over. "I would like to assume
the best…"
"I guess the silver lining is that we'll get to meet someone high up in
XCOM," Ethan muttered. "Something, at least."
Saudia initialized the holographic array and a few seconds later the
image converged into the figure of an XCOM soldier. He was in a
wide stance, his hands clasped behind his back. He was clearly
accustomed to being in charge by the looks of it. The armor was
silver and thicker than typical XCOM armor, with the emblem in the
center chest.
Two weapons were attached to his back, what looked like a sniper
rifle and a shotgun variant. She did find it somewhat amusing that
even with his armor, she was still taller than him, although just by a
hair. His helmet completely hid his face and was armored fully minus
the darkened visor where the eyes would be. Both armor and helmet
were splattered with drying blood, which didn't exactly bode well for
her soldiers stationed there.
" Greetings," he said, inclining his head towards her. His voice was
deep, even before the synthesization from his helmet and
holographic array. "I presume you are Director Saudia Vyandar?"
They'd speculated that the XCOM might learn her name, and it
seemed they had. No point denying it, and she doubted it would help
them regardless. "I am. Who are you?"
Well then, the Commander of XCOM himself had fought. That was
interesting. "I don't suppose you would share more?" she pressed.
"Your name, for instance."
Her lips curled up. This Commander had a spine, which she had to
respect even if it was mildly irritating at the moment. "If you insist,
Commander . I suppose you have called to gloat; as if this proves
your superiority. We anticipated your attack days in advance. You will
find nothing of use."
He chuckled. "I suppose it's only fair," he said. "I've seen your face.
You've earned the right to see mine. Not that you'll recognize me."
He reached up and lifted it off his head with an audible hiss and
click. He lowered it to his side and placed it on a nearby table. He
was much younger than she'd assumed for the Commander of
XCOM. Maybe a little older, but even then she wasn't sure. Even
through the hologram she could feel the intensity of his gaze, his
brown eyes were cold and his face hard. He was definitely a born
commander, one who could actually command respect.
She heard Ethan sharply hiss and she glanced over to see him
seemingly stunned. His face was whiter than she'd ever seen and
his mouth hung partially open. Did he know him? No, she'd worry
about that later and returned her attention to the Commander. He'd
been right, she didn't recognize him, but after Elizabeth ran his face
through the database, they'd probably find something.
"You said you also had a warning," Saudia continued, crossing her
arms. "Please, enlighten me."
" With pleasure," he said with an unsettling smile. "The aliens are
well aware of the game you're playing. Did you really think you could
use them and they wouldn't notice?"
Scare tactics. Did he really think she would fall for them? "I doubt
that, Commander. If the aliens suspected we were using them, I
doubt they'd be so courteous as to allow us access to their tech."
" You really are arrogant if you actually believe that," the
Commander stated with absolute finality. "Do you really think that a
species that has mastered interstellar travel is fooled by your blatant
attempt to advance yourselves? You think they lack the intelligence
of the lowest intelligence operative? They are using you, plain and
simple. By denying it you are playing right into their hand."
"Insults will not persuade me," Saudia responded. "I don't suppose
you have proof of this?"
" None that you would accept," he answered, pursing his lips. "But
I'm curious, Director, just what your 'plan' is. Do you intend to betray
the aliens once we're defeated? How will you possibly gather an
army to fight the aliens after destroying the world in the process?"
Saudia raised an eyebrow. "Do you believe I will tell you that?"
The Commander lowered his arm and fixed his cold gaze on her.
"No, I do not. But there is enough instability in the world without you
adding to it. If I wanted to, I could ensure that your organization is
destroyed and forgotten forever."
"Now who's the arrogant one?" Saudia chided. "No, you could not."
"Be very careful how you proceed," she warned. "Brazil is only a
portion of what we can do. Thanks to your… bold attack, I would not
be surprised if more nations withdrew from your Council."
" A risk," the Commander acknowledged with a nod. "But one I feel
was worth it. But returning to my original point, as much as I would
like to dismantle your organization, I have more important issues to
deal with, quite frankly. This current war between us serves no one
but the aliens. You clearly plan on betraying the aliens later, so we
should not be enemies in this instance."
" A temporary one, until the aliens are dealt with," the Commander
answered. "I would be wrong not to at least provide the opportunity.
In any other circumstance I would hunt your people to extinction, but
as it stands I can overlook this as long as you refrain from interfering
in XCOM operations."
"You may have taken the Mercado Estate," Saudia said. "But don't
think that you've dealt us a serious blow."
" Fine," the Commander growled, stepping toward her, his eyes
blazing with anger. "Then here is what will happen to EXALT,
Director. I will dismantle every cell you control, piece by piece,
country by country. Everything will be shown to the world, and they
will soon be on the hunt for your agents. Will they find everyone?
Probably not, but they will eventually."
He paused, his eyes never leaving hers. "Your people will break; first
we will start at Solaris Industries and move from there. I will ensure
that your world falls around you and at the end, I will find your family
and execute them, with you soon after. It will take time, but if you
decide to make yourself my enemy, that is what will happen."
That speech should have made her laugh, but it was… unsettling.
He didn't speak in a grandstanding way, it didn't feel like a speech
prepared to appeal to her emotions. It instead felt exactly like this
was exactly what he was planning to do, punctuated by the pure
finality and conviction in his voice. This wasn't a speech from him, it
was a statement of what he was going to do .
And she wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. "I assume this is a
threat?" She finally said. Not her best moment but she wanted his
reaction.
" A statement," he said. "A warning if you'd prefer it. I'm giving you an
opportunity to not only survive, but actually make something out of
your decades of meddling. Think it over, Director. Cease your
operations against us and we will do the same. Think very carefully
about your choice, because after this, there is no turning back for
either of us."
"You've made your point clear," she answered. "But I think you're
vastly overestimating your influence in the world, much less power to
fulfill half the so-called warnings you just gave."
" I've done my part," the Commander stated coldly, stepping back
and picking up his helmet. "What happens next is up to you, Director.
Until next time." He walked away and the transmission cut off soon
afterward.
"Yes," Ethan whispered. "He's alive, and we've been fighting him this
whole time."
After-Action Report
Personnel
Status: Active
Kills: 9
Status: Active
Kills: 7
Status: Active
Kills: 7
Status: Active
Kills: 6
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Status: Deceased
Kills: 1
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Kills: 7
Kills: 1
Status: Active
Kills: 0
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Status: Active
Kills: 5
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Maverick 16: Specialist Fakhr al Din
Status: Active
Kills: 4
Status: Active
Kills: 12
Artifacts Recovered:
He turned to the woman sitting next to him. "So, what do you make
of this, Amanda?"
Cerian snorted as the two anchors began talking. "Gee, what do you
think? It seems pretty self-explanatory to me."
"Oh, don't act like England is any better," Mary interrupted from the
bed. "Every news station tries to be as dramatic as possible."
"Hey, Canada is pretty good," Baston defended. "It's much better
than here."
"I find it interesting that we're all discussing the news stations and
not that XCOM actually held a press conference," Cerian noted as
he turned the TV off. "Van Doorn was very coy, but I didn't really
expect anything less."
"I wonder if they told the Chinese," Ren commented from the nearby
wall. He'd been reading a book during the entire thing, but had
apparently picked up on some of it. "I'm not sure they'd really
approve, especially if the reason is to attack an apparent myth."
"Would they really risk the fallout?" Mary asked, not looking up as
she typed. "I'm no political scientist, but I'm pretty sure that you don't
want to make China angry at you."
Olivia pursed her lips. "Good point. I remember that MI6 purposely
let America and Russia track down the Commander after the War on
Terror was over. It was a long shot, but they didn't want to deal with
him if he ever came this way."
"Remember that we don't know for sure one way or another," Cerian
reminded them. "I'll have to check with Patrick to find out for certain."
"Did you know Van Doorn was with XCOM?" Ren asked Cerian,
putting his book down.
"Yes," Cerian nodded. "Patrick told me, I believe. He's not with the
UN anymore if you're curious."
"Hmm," Ren frowned. "I didn't ever think he'd leave it. He seemed to
always believe in it even when it was difficult."
"I served with him for a few years," Ren answered with a shrug.
"Great guy; something must have really set him off if he left. I wonder
what."
"No," Cerian shook his head. "Never meet the esteemed General.
Knew who he was, of course, but our duties were so far apart. I
doubt he would have really wanted to meet the UN's very own
assassin."
"Irrelevant now," Cerian shook his head. "Right, time to get to work. I
think a day or two more of observation will be needed since EXALT
will probably be on high alert. We've got our target marked and we'll
execute the plan in a couple of days and break into the building."
It took him a while to actually get there, and he made sure to park in
one of the many parking garages in the city, preferably one none of
them had taken before. Perfect, now he'd head to the café he'd
unofficially chosen as his lookout point. It was pretty busy this time of
day, which made it much easier to blend in. He put in an order to
solidify his cover as a customer and went to sit down outside where
there were quite a few circular tables with umbrellas over them, all
the while the massive building towering over him.
He'd kept track of repeat customers in case any were EXALT, and
there really didn't seem to be any. So either they sent out someone
new every day, he was just coming at the wrong times, or they didn't
have any at all. Well, he didn't notice anything that out of place. The
guard in front of Solaris Industries was doubled, which he found
interesting, and he noted the guards physically checking IDs of
people who came up instead of letting the automated systems scan
them.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked, motioning to the empty chair
beside him. "It appears every other one is taken."
Huh? Cerian looked around and to his mild surprise noted that the
man was correct. Odd. That never happened. Even on the weekend
there were still a few places open. He should have moved his chair
away, but he was stuck with it now. Worst case, he could leave and
come back later when this man was gone.
"Sure," Cerian answered slowly and neutrally, and the man sat down
and set his coffee on the table and turned to look at Solaris
Industries as well.
Well, it wouldn't exactly hurt to state the obvious. "Looks like they
hired some more guards," he said, motioning to the entrance.
"Wonder what prompted that?"
The man chuckled and shook his head. "I've seen a lot of idiotic
things in my lifetime," he answered, clearly amused. "But I've yet to
see someone try to attack a weapons manufacturer ."
In retrospect, it was probably a dumb question, but he was honestly
not concerned about a random conversation with an old man. "Are
you a new resident here?" The man asked after a few minutes.
"You must really like this shop then," the man commented with a thin
smile. "This is about the fifth straight day you've come at various
times."
"I come here daily," he answered. "I just noticed and found it
curious."
He was lying. Cerian couldn't recall anyone remotely like this man
entering, let along staying for a decent period of time. He'd been
careful to keep an eye out for agents, and when he spotted
extraordinary people, he always made note of them. This man would
have definitely qualified. Which likely meant that someone had
noticed him and he'd somehow not noticed, and now had sent this
man to him for… some reason?
"Do you have something to add to that?" Cerian asked, putting some
steel in his voice as he turned to the man across the small table.
"I do, in fact," the man answered, his smile not wavering. "You would
do well to abandon your plan. It will fail."
Cerian struggled not to react. There was no way anyone could know
what they were planning. Even Patrick didn't know the full extent of
the plan. The rooms had been swept for bugs and none of his agents
discussed the operation outside with anyone… unless they had and
hadn't told him.
"No," the man interrupted his train of thought. "Your people did their
jobs well. They are loyal."
"'Playing dumb' will not work on me," the man said, lacing his fingers
together. "But do it if you wish, I simply wish to convey my message
and then I'll leave."
"Because I know everything about you, Cerian Irelan," the man said
coolly, neutrally. "A UN assassin on the hunt for first XCOM, and now
EXALT. Your team of Ren, Mary, Darril, Olivia and Baston. A fine
group, if I do say so myself."
The man tapped his head. "How I know isn't important, Cerian.
Suffice to say I'm giving you a chance you shouldn't ignore."
"And we should just ignore the criminal activity just because you said
so?" Cerian demanded. "For some reason, I doubt that'll fly.
Certainly not with me."
"You speak from ignorance," the man refuted. "While
understandable, it is not something that can be easily explained.
There are larger threats to humanity than EXALT, which I might add,
is not one such threat."
"I think the United Nations will be the judge of that," Cerian stated.
"And I doubt XCOM would become involved if EXALT didn't pose
some threat."
"XCOM has been mishandled," the man stated. "But there were
extenuating circumstances in this case. You would do well not to
blindly accept whatever XCOM tells the public. You should know
better than any that the Commander is no ordinary man."
"Neither are you, by the sound of it," Cerian muttered. "So what is
this? A warning? Why would your superiors even let you give me
one?"
"Because they don't know," the man said. "I'm independent of any
superiors, and would prefer you not die as a result of misguided
justice."
"Think very carefully," the man warned as he stood. "I don't make
this offer often. Farewell, Cerian."
He walked away, leaving him alone in the seat. He clicked on his
earpiece and set it to contact all agents. "Abort mission today and
regroup in safe house four. We have a problem."
Ah, right. Outsiders could do that. They really were versatile beings,
ones he still wasn't sure were organic or synthetic. Or more
accurately, natural or created. He'd been leaning more towards
created since his arrival to XCOM, no being could perform the feats
he'd seen without being improved or designed in some way.
Soran sighed and filled out the signature line. "I never understood
the necessity of this."
"Hey, it's only one form," Blake chided, still giving a smile. "This is
nothing compared to hospitals I worked at before."
"I suppose," Soran muttered and handed the clipboard back. "Here."
"Appreciated," Blake said with a nod. "Also, did she say anything
after I left? I remember she was muttering something I couldn't
understand."
"She did," Soran shook his head. "But it was in Chinese, I couldn't
understand it."
Soran blinked and looked at what he'd written and frowned. Not a
good slip. "Apologies, I can do another one if you like."
"Not necessary," Blake dismissed with a sigh. "As long as it's your
name, I can technically accept it," he took a closer look. "This doesn't
look Japanese."
Probably best to leave now and talk to Shun. Soran nodded farewell
to the Chief Medic and opened the door in front of him. He was once
again reminded how small these rooms were; there was barely
enough room for a small sink, cupboard and bed in the corner.
Across from the bed was a TV which was currently off and Shun was
propped up on the bed with additional pillows.
She waved lazily as he walked over by her. "Hey, I guess I'm alive."
He raised an eyebrow. "I appears that way, though Blake sure made
a big deal about it."
"Ah, so that was probably him I heard," she recalled with a nod. "I
wasn't exactly paying attention."
"Good news is that you should recover with no issues," Soran said.
"The human body is oddly resilient."
"And strange," Shun agreed. "But I'm not complaining, though I think
I owe Shen more thanks than nature in this case."
"Well, you're alive and in one piece," Soran nodded. "That's most
important."
"Thank you," she said quietly. "So I assume that we won? What
happened after I blacked out?"
"And after?"
"Patricia led the rest of the squad inside and wiped out the remaining
soldiers in the main room," he continued. "She had me stay to watch
over you in case any came back or the Chinese sent a unit."
"Oh," she looked surprised. "So that was you, I wondered but wasn't
sure."
"Yes, it was me," he assured her. "I thought you were unconscious
else I would have talked to you."
"I think I sort of was," she added, shaking her head. "Drifting in and
out. Did I say anything in that state?"
"Nothing so far," Soran shook his head. "Though I doubt they'd talk
to me first. The Commander is probably dealing with them, but we'll
see."
"EXALT will probably want to retaliate soon," Shun noted after a few
seconds. "I guess I should focus on healing up. Maybe I'll ask for
some of those gene mods. They seem useful."
Soran pursed his lips and decided to risk it. It wasn't like he was
going to get another chance. "Think very carefully before you do,
Shun. Genetic modification will have consequences, ones you
probably won't know for a while."
She looked a bit surprised at the sudden gravity in his voice. "How
do you know? I doubt the Commander would have approved them if
he wasn't certain they were safe."
The thing was, Soran didn't disagree. The Commander probably did
think they were completely safe, otherwise he wouldn't have been
modified himself. "Because h-people are fallible, right now
everyone's ecstatic of what this kind of modification can achieve. But
it only takes one mistake, one flaw to bring everything crashing
down."
"You're probably being paranoid," Shun chided with a smile. "It's not
like you know it's going to happen."
"Don't worry," she assured him. "I promise I'll think it through. You
happy?"
She was probably just saying it to placate him, but there was little he
could do to change her mind. But perhaps she'd remember later.
"For now," he said, giving her a rare smile to show he meant it. "But
I'll let you rest now."
"Hey, you don't have to go quite yet," she protested. "I'm not that
weak, and I doubt they'll call you after you helped take the EXALT
base."
She didn't fail to notice Creed look skeptically at her enormous tray
of food, holding roughly double what he had on his own tray. Well,
the explanation for that was rather simple; she was hungry.
Apparently, extensive use of psionics only amplified it. After getting
back to the Citadel she'd taken a quick shower and would have
probably gone to bed had she actually been tired and Creed hadn't
asked if she wanted to get something to eat.
She'd still been rather energized after the battle, despite the fatigue
she could physically feel in her body. Creed's offer had also
reminded her that she was hungry, and since sleep probably
wouldn't be happening, here she was. It also appeared that
extensive psionic use also muted her passive abilities for a period
afterwards. Right now she could only just sense the people around
her, though she could probably still influence people if she really
wanted too.
"I didn't know you read fantasy," Creed commented as he also began
eating. "I honestly wouldn't have guessed that."
"I don't know if I should be offended at that or not," she said good-
naturedly. "And just what did assume I read?"
"Hey, I like those," she defended. "Well, sci-fi more so. Espionage
and military are sort of hit and miss. But I always loved reading
fantasy stuff as a girl and it's definitely one of the most interesting
genres out there."
"Maybe I just haven't read the right ones," Creed shrugged. "I just
prefer more modern settings."
"That is not fair," Creed pointed out. "You can just read my mind for
the answers."
Patricia snorted. "I'm flattered you think I still have energy to do that.
Trust me, I'm not going to read your mind. I can barely sense what
you're feeling."
"Oh yeah, I do like those," Creed answered, smiling. "But it's not my
personal favorite genre."
"Alternate history," Creed said. "Stuff like if the Nazis won World War
II or the South won the Civil War. I always found that fascinating,
how different the world could be if just a few events turned out
differently."
That she could agree with. She was somewhat surprised she hadn't
really… read any books in that genre. "Huh, I don't think I've ever
read one of those. You're right, that sounds really neat."
"Tell you what," Creed said, pointing a fork at her for emphasis. "We
win and we'll discuss my future writing career. Though if I'm going to
write anything, I'd probably do your biography."
"I'm flattered," she said, and meant it. Truthfully she'd never thought
much about what would happen after the war if they won. But it was
very likely that everyone in XCOM would be regarded as heroes and
that always came with a set of unexpected consequences; namely
interviews, books and probably a dozen more forms of media.
"Or, I suppose you could hire an actual writer who knew what they
were doing," he amended, backing off. "But hey, the offer's open."
"Honestly, I'd prefer you write it than someone looking just to get
famous off me," Patricia shook her head. "But I don't think I deserve
more recognition than anyone else."
"Of course you say that," Creed chuckled. " I'm the one supposed to
be in the background. You aren't really, not in XCOM. Everyone
knows who you are and respects you, like it or not. The Commander
doesn't just assign anyone to be his second-in-command on
missions."
He did have a point, much as she didn't want to acknowledge it. She
sighed. "Great. Just what I always wanted."
"We can move onto a more cheery topic if you want," Creed
suggested. "So, how did you… drain the energy out of that guy?"
She knew he'd meant it in jest, but this was actually a topic she was
more comfortable with since she felt she could actually answer it
accurately. "I'm not sure I actually did," Patricia began, wondering
how she could explain it. "Instead of… directly draining him, I think
that I flipped our states, for lack of a better word."
At Creed's confused look she continued. "I think I tricked both his
brain and mine, made him think he was exhausted and could barely
stand up and made me think I was reenergized."
"Sort of," Patricia said, biting her lip. "But I don't know for sure. I
wasn't exactly the most lucid when I tried that. It'll need more testing.
I suppose that if I collapse suddenly, my theory will be correct."
"I hope not," Creed said, concern in his voice and emotions. "With
how much you pushed yourself… I don't think it's unreasonable to
think you could kill yourself at a certain point."
"I'll get better at managing it," Patricia promised. "But I don't think
any of us can afford to hold back now. Whatever it takes."
"But not at the cost of your life," Creed warned. "You're good to no
one dead because you felt you needed to push yourself. We need
you alive. You didn't see how bad you looked, I practically dragged
you to that man."
"I know, and I'll try to get better," Patricia sighed. "And thanks for
that, by the way, but I wasn't worried about you carrying me."
"I don't think you know how heavy you are with that armor," Creed
pointed out humorously. "Not exactly a feather. I would have been
worried if I was carrying me."
"Not this time," Patricia corrected. "You were very adamant in your
mind, that I remember that clearly. You weren't going to drop me, no
matter what happened. It was sweet."
His tan face flushed slightly at that and he quickly took a sip of water.
"Well, I knew you'd yell at me later if I'd dropped you."
He was trying to wave it off with humor, which she found interesting.
But his feelings didn't lie and she knew what she'd felt then was
correct. She'd been fatigued and exhausted at the EXALT base and
the world had swam around her and yet she sensed him perfectly at
that time, probably because he was a solid mental anchor she could
always find as she'd clung to him physically and mentally.
She was starting to get some suspicions, but respected his privacy
to go directly into his mind at this point to confirm them. She didn't
want to make him uncomfortable either, so decided to let it drop. For
now, anyway. They finished eating and Patricia pushed her tray
away and yawned. "I think I'm finally tired now; think I'll get some
sleep."
She made a move to get her tray but Creed beat her to it and placed
it on his own. "I've got it," he assured her. "Get some rest."
She gave him a tired smile. "Thank you, I'll see you in the morning."
Creed likely knew very well that it technically was morning, but for
once didn't reply with a smart comment, simply taking her tray and
walking away. Feeling rather good and full, she began walking back
towards the barracks to get some well-deserved sleep.
"As long as they have it," the Commander interjected. "That's what
matters, and now we can monitor and see which ones decide to
cover it in more detail."
"I don't think the press liked my flat refusal of answers," Van Doorn
commented as he took a drink of water.
The Commander shook his head and smiled wryly. "Really, what did
they expect? We're clearly not going to reveal our future plans in
specifics. But you handled it well, sorry you had to go through it."
"Believe it or not, they were better than most," Van Doorn waved off.
"I think using two armed and armored XCOM soldiers had a
noticeable effect."
"Well, I'd call this a win," the Commander stated, looking around the
holotable. "The Mercado Estate is taken, public approval is rising
and EXALT is going to take a massive hit once the information about
their 'experiments' come to light."
"And China is noticeably quiet," Zhang added with a nod. "If they
were going to condemn us, they would have done so already."
That detail was true, but the Commander wasn't certain that was a
good thing. They'd sent the doctored evidence and several of the
bodies to Chinese authorities to prove what they'd found was "real,"
but hadn't heard anything from them ever since, positive or negative.
There was the possibility that they wanted to avoid embarrassment,
but they should have at least contacted XCOM privately.
But that was a minor note on what was a very good day. "The point
is that I think we've earned a small celebration, if only for a few
hours," the Commander continued, walking over to a table where
he'd set a small bag on. "Objections?"
All of them chuckled and shook their heads no and the Commander
took out several bottles of wine and beer and set them on the
dimmed holotable and headed back over and took another box of
glasses and headed back over. "I wasn't sure what your preferences
were, so I just got both. Wine glasses and shots."
"With that stuff you've got, Bradford, I think one shot is too much,"
Van Doorn commented as he opened a wine bottle. "I will never
understand people who like that stuff."
Van Doorn sniffed indignantly. "I can . I just think it tastes awful."
"Two people who don't drink," Van Doorn tsked. "What is the world
coming to?"
"Well, before everyone exhausts their one glass, I'll propose the
toast," Vahlen interrupted, nodding towards him. "To you,
Commander, for getting us this far."
"Copy that," Bradford agreed and raised his glass, followed soon by
all of them. He felt very humbled at that moment, especially since it
had definitely not just been him. He may have come up with the
major decisions, but without the people before him, it would have
never happened. "Thank you," he accepted inclining his head. "But
it's not just been me. I would never have been able to accomplish
this much without all of you. So," he grabbed an empty glass and
raised it. "To XCOM, and our eventual victory over EXALT and the
aliens."
There was a chorus of agreement as they followed suit and with that
most of them finished what little was in their glasses and set them
back on the holotable. "So, what was your impression of the fabled
Director of EXALT?" Vahlen asked curiously.
"Well, they should enjoy it while it lasts," Zhang said. "I think I'll take
advantage of the momentum and begin assigning agents to look into
Solaris Industries. Keep them on the defensive."
Bradford suddenly reached up to his earpiece and clicked it, and the
Commander observed him go from pleased and happy to serious.
"Got it," he said, all business again. "Thanks, Jackson. I'll let the
Commander know."
"Wish they could have done it before our little celebration," the
Commander muttered as he turned to set up the screen on the wall.
"Ah well, party's over."
The good news was that at least the Council had called early enough
so that he wouldn't have to worry about the potential impaired
judgement of his Internal Council. One glass probably wasn't
anything to worry about, especially with a team of professionals, but
he didn't want an additional worry beyond what he already had.
Flanked by Van Doorn and Bradford, with Zhang out of the picture
and Shen and Vahlen in the background, the Commander accepted
the transmission and the screen flashed to once again reveal the
Speaker, still cloaked in blue light and shadow.
" Do you suspect EXALT plants within the Council itself?" The
Speaker demanded. "And if so, do you have proof?"
"I doubt that there are any within the Council itself," the Commander
answered carefully. "Otherwise the situation would likely be more
dire. But I can't say the same for their aides or subordinates. Had we
informed the Council, am I wrong in assuming that the esteemed
Chinese Councilor would have contacted his government, and
sharing this information with them?"
" You are most likely right, Commander," the Speaker conceded.
"But we are together in this endeavor against EXALT and the aliens.
This recent attack, with no warning whatsoever, has shaken the faith
some councilors have in your willingness to work with the Council."
The Commander sighed. "I said I'd work with the Council when it
was appropriate and the same with keeping them informed.
Informing the Council, or anyone else, would have introduced an
unnecessary security risk and possibly compromised the mission."
" And yet, that is not your call to make," the Speaker continued
neutrally. "With any operation, you must let the government of the
country know the specifics. That has actually been one regulation
you've kept well up to this point. But the Chinese Councilor believes
that you've ignored it as a statement against his country."
"It had nothing to do with the fact that it was in China," the
Commander sighed. "I would have done the exact same thing if the
Mercado Estate was in Russia, Japan or America. While I have
disagreements with the Council, I don't believe they lack the
intelligence to see my point."
" I believe they do," the Speaker said, lacing his fingers together.
"But their issues stem from the fact that this is another incident in a
long line of insubordination to the Council. I might remind you that
XCOM is still under the United Nations. Your alliances with other
nations have not gone unnoticed, and you seem to treat the Council
the same way, not as a superior, but as an ally."
To his credit, the Speaker didn't exactly sound happy at the words he
was saying, but once again trying to convey what the Council felt.
"Because you are an ally," the Commander stated. "An important
one for sure, but one I do rely upon for certain things. In terms of
military direction you haven't ever dictated to me any directions, and
that's how it's been this entire time. This war is bigger than us or you,
humanity will need more than the United Nations to win and that's
why I'm looking beyond the Council. I won't refuse help or seek it out
because of your disapproval."
" While there is no doubt that XCOM will be instrumental, China does
not hold the same opinion, Commander," the Speaker continued
neutrally. "I will be frank, Commander. This does not reflect well on
your leadership and XCOM as a whole. Several councilors are
wondering if you are the right person to lead this initiative. Brazil may
have been out of your hands, but China was the direct result of your
actions. That cannot be ignored."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Van Doorn asked hesitantly, taken
aback by the storm of fury in his voice. "Antagonizing the Chinese
more-"
The Commander looked him coldly in the eye. "That's what the
Hades Contingency is for, no? Nations that attack us or our allies.
China will not risk a confrontation with us."
"You also believed they wouldn't leave the Council," Bradford quietly
pointed out.
"I did," the Commander acknowledged. "But they did and now we
have to make up for it. If China had wanted us to avoid it, they
shouldn't have left in the first place."
"I thought you said he was dead," Ethan almost growled as he paced
furiously back and forth. Saudia felt it best to let him roam and as a
result hadn't said much since the revelation that Ethan's Commander
and friend was not only alive, but also leading the fight against them.
"Of course there is," Ethan spat furiously. "They probably thought he
would be so grateful for being given a second chance and happily go
along with whatever they said. Cowards and hypocrites, all of them.
They knew he was needed but condemned him every chance they
got. He would never forget, he probably thinks all of us are dead
too."
Saudia pursed her lips. "That's what the records show, Ethan," she
said quietly. "You officially died almost nine years ago."
Ethan's shoulders sank and he was silent for a few seconds. "What
happens now?"
Saudia couldn't help but be a little relieved at that. A small part of her
had wondered if his loyalty to the Commander would override
everything here, including her. That was a part of his life she couldn't
fully understand or grasp the depth of, no matter how much she
tried. But she also saw resilience on his face as he said that, and
she knew the look. "But what?" She asked.
"I'm going to tell the others," Ethan said. "They deserve to know."
Saudia took a breath. She fully understood why he wanted to… but it
was a bad idea. "Are you sure you want to?" She warned carefully,
walking in front of him to get his full attention. "Learning that they've
been fighting him… how will they react?"
Ethan looked at her sadly. "I don't know," he said softly. "I know the
problems it will cause, but it seems wrong to hide it. The
Commander never lied to us and I've done my best to hold myself to
the standard."
"I know, I know," she whispered, fitting her hands in his own. "But
please, hold off for now. At least until we decide what we're going to
do."
"I don't know," she admitted softly. "I don't know this time."
"Then let's think it through," Ethan suggested. "It's not like there are
many options."
"About the aliens, his truce, or his threat?" Ethan asked. "Probably
all of them. He doesn't lie, Saudia, not about this, and especially not
when addressing his enemies directly."
Saudia remembered very well the story Ethan told about the
Commander dealing with his wife, but had irrationally hoped it
wouldn't extend beyond that. And despite herself, she was
somewhat worried. It was irrational, but the Commander was unlike
any person she'd watched in a war. She was in probably the safest
place in the world, but he'd shown a remarkable tendency to
persevere and conquer incredible odds. She wouldn't put it past him
to look at the considerable defenses of the Bastion and only consider
it as just another obstacle.
"And the aliens?" She said. "You think we've been underestimating
them?"
He let go of her hands and walked over to the bed and sat on the
edge, resting his elbows on his knees. "I think we've been lying to
ourselves about this whole arrangement with the aliens. I thought it
was just me since you didn't say anything, but I really don't think so
anymore."
Saudia walked over to the bed as well and sat down beside him. "Go
on,"
"I think these aliens aren't idiots," Ethan continued. "They're taking
advantage of us, and they know they have control, especially judging
by how easily they've taken the Furies. At this point we're so
transparent about our goals there's no way they can't see it."
"And if we don't the aliens may just decide to take over directly,"
Ethan countered. "Do you really want to risk everything for the sake
of some artifacts?"
That might not be a bad idea. At the very least it would cause the
Commander to stop and think about attacking, knowing he'd be
fighting his old soldiers. Although he might ultimately decide that they
were traitors and proceed anyway. But it probably couldn't hurt.
"Perhaps. But this can't be a decision made unilaterally. We need to
hold a meeting with everyone, to decide what to do about the aliens
and the Commander."
Ethan sighed. "I suppose that's best. But I want to be there. I can
answer whatever questions they have."
He was silent for a minute. "Yes Saudia," he said quietly, his voice
close to breaking. "I will. If I must."
She took his closest hand in her own. "Thank you," she whispered
quietly, sincerely. "I promise I'll ensure you have a say in the final
decision."
Ethan gave her hand a squeeze and sighed. "I suppose I better talk
with Elizabeth and Zara. Assuming his tactics haven't changed, and
based on our previous encounters they haven't, I know how he likes
to operate and might be able to help prevent infiltration. At least until
we make a decision one way or another."
"I'll hold off telling the rest he's alive," Ethan said. "But only until we
know the plan."
Saudia pushed herself off the bed. "I suppose we'd better get
started. There's a lot to do."
People who believed what they were doing was the right thing, but
were resigned to the fact that they were most likely not going to
survive. He supposed the question for him was if he doing the right
thing?
He didn't know for sure, but he knew that they didn't deserve what
was coming. The men and women he'd fought beside weren't what
he'd expected, and as a result had ultimately influenced him into this
decision.
With each step he took he knew how easy it would be to just turn
around, continue on with life as if nothing would happen, pretending
everything was real and this was his fight. But no, he'd made his
choice when he'd prevented an issue with Shun, when he warned
the Commander about Patricia, and when he saved Samuel from the
rocket.
The door slid open and Soran walked into the office. The
Commander looked slightly more stressed than before, and was fully
focused on his screen for a few seconds before looking up and
directing his full attention to him. "Ah, Soran. Good to see you."
Soran took a deep breath. "Yes, Commander. I'm here to turn myself
in."
The extent of the Commander's surprise was several blinks and him
standing to look him in the eye. Soran also didn't fail to note his hand
resting on the gauss pistol on his hip. "I think you should explain. If
you're turning yourself in, then who are you?"
"It will be easier to show you," Soran answered and slowly withdrew
one of the knives strapped to his chest. Lips twitching, he placed the
tip on the crook of his elbow. The Shapers had wisely noted well
beforehand that his blood would pose an issue should he be
wounded in combat, and to compensate had hardened his skin to
resist deep scrapes or scratches. It wouldn't stop a bullet, laser or
plasma, but it would prevent him from revealing himself accidentally
by a paper cut.
But the skin on the elbow was the weakest, and Soran knew he
could make a small incision with enough pressure. He hissed lightly
as the blade pierced his skin and a small dot of golden blood trickled
out. He looked up at the Commander, who, for the first time Soran
had observed, actually looked surprised, eyes wide at his bleeding
arm.
"I'm one of them, Commander," Soran stated quietly, letting the knife
drop to the floor with a thud. "I'm an alien."
Human and alien stared at each other, neither moving nor blinking.
The Commander's hand had unconsciously went to his hip where his
gauss pistol was holstered securely in his belt, but he instinctively
knew he wouldn't need it. His life was not in danger, not now. He
suspected that if "Soran" had wanted to kill him, he would have done
it already and certainly wouldn't have come to turn himself in.
Perfectly human.
Ignoring the fact that Soran had somehow managed to fool everyone
in XCOM, including the medical professionals and the Japanese
military officers who'd sent him here in the first place, this was a
disturbing reminder of just how advanced the aliens were. If they
could make a human mimic as realistic as Soran, there were
certainly more out there.
But that didn't erase the fact that he was turning himself in now. That
had to be taken into consideration. In almost any situation there was
always at least one path that seemed clear and right to him.
Justified, at the very least. But here… he didn't know what the right
thing to do was.
Traitors were different. They were people who legitimately turned for
multiple reasons, be they money, power, ideology or love. Very rarely
had the Commander ever found reason to respect a traitor's
decision, but at the very least he had no qualms about punishing
them. Caught spies were also straightforward.
No, the fact that Soran appeared to fall into the "spy" category wasn't
the issue. The issue was that he had turned himself in. He couldn't
be treated as simply a caught spy, and if he did cooperate….a tricky
situation all around.
The Commander had been careful to not let his true feelings show
too much on his face, but Soran had probably picked up on his initial
surprise. If he was one of the thin men, his vision had likely been
enhanced as well. Now that his secret was out, the Commander did
notice a change in Soran's demeanor.
It was subtle, but he didn't seem like the calm soldier he'd talked to
over the past few months. Now Soran's face had an intensity to it,
not that of a subordinate soldier, but that of an equal. He stood
straight and tall as he looked the Commander in the eye, unblinking.
The Commander slowly let his hand fall from the pistol and Soran
inclined his head. "Astute observation, Commander. You're right. If I
was going to kill you, it would have happened." His voice was the
same, but there was an air of assurance around it, as well as a faint
rasp that the alien must have hidden for months.
Soran took a visible breath. "I would prefer to have to answer all your
inevitable questions once. No doubt Vahlen will ask the same ones
and you'd likely want to have Patricia nearby as well so she can
determine if I'm lying or not."
"As I suspected," Soran inclined his head. "You've shown that you
are reasonable. I suppose I'll soon see how accurate that is."
The Commander held his gaze. "I'll determine the truthfulness of that
later, but for now I'm going to have you taken to alien containment."
Soran nodded his head towards the intercom. "Then I'd prefer to get
it over with."
"Gather the Internal Council and order Patricia, Creed and Carmelita
to suit up and come to my office."
There was silence at the end for a few seconds. "Done, Commander.
Heading up now."
Patricia's eyes snapped open and she took a few seconds to force
her brain to wake up before throwing her blanket off and sitting
upright on the bed.
She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling that was quickly
fading. The rest of the base was mostly asleep or resting, and
emotions weren't exactly running high. But there was no mistaking
what she felt; surprise, danger andoddly… relief all rolled in one
sequence.
Whose emotions she couldn't quite determine since the feelings had
been clamped down or reduced to the point she could no longer
sense them. Perhaps if she tried, but at the moment she didn't
exactly feel the urge to. It probably wasn't important. If it was, she'd
likely know about it. She deliberately began taking deep breaths and
attempted to slow her heartbeat which had unintentionally risen
since she'd woken up.
The mass of still, sleeping and quiet minds around her helped greatly
and she focused on their calming presence. Random flashes and
images appeared in her mind as she did so, a likely byproduct of her
opening herself up to the many people around her. She didn't have
context for any of them, but that wasn't something she needed. They
appeared in her head and she let them go almost as quickly.
A couple minutes later she was back to normal and was considering
if she should attempt to go back to sleep or start her day a few hours
early when her wristband vibrated. She suddenly went cold and
goosebumps broke out on her skin as the vibrations crawled up and
down her arm.
She immediately stood and moved to her locker and began pulling
on her armor. She felt a couple more people begin waking up, Creed
and Carmelita. Both were almost instantly alert, not much of a
surprise and she now heard them walking over.
"I didn't realize you were this fast," Creed commented under his
breath as he began putting on his own armor. "I only felt it a minute
ago."
Patricia lifted her chest armor over her head and lowered it slowly
onto her chest. "I was already awake."
Patricia thought for a moment. "I'm not sure," she admitted slowly as
she reached for her helmet. "Someone was surprised and relieved.
But there was also a clear sense of danger. But all of those faded
pretty quickly."
Determined and cold, that was how Carmelita felt to her right now.
Creed was almost the same, but less intense; more curious than
anything. As well as concerned, which she suspected was aimed
towards her. She wanted to reassure him, since he sometimes had
the idea that her psionics were more of an issue for her than they
actually were. But she didn't want to make things… well, awkward,
with Carmelita around.
Although she did have an idea. She put her helmet on and as the
HUD initialized, gently placed her arm on Creed for a couple
seconds, pushing one simple emotion and phrase that she hoped
would resonate enough that he got the message.
I'm ok.
She withdrew her hand and reached for her gauss cannon. Creed
had his helmet on now and was looking at her wordlessly, likely
trying to figure out if it was her or not. She gave a quick nod, which
would mean nothing unless someone was looking for it. Carmelita
had her alloy cannon in hand and Creed quickly grabbed his own
gauss rifle.
The line clicked off. "We should have asked who it was," Creed
muttered under his breath. "And how they were caught."
The doors slid open and she saw the Commander in front of his desk
and Soran standing off to the side. Why was he here? Had he been
called as well? Although if that was the case, then why wasn't he
wearing his armor?
The Commander pursed his lips and nodded to Soran who took a
step forward. "That would be me, Carmelita," he said calmly. "You're
here to escort me to alien containment."
His words didn't register at first, not to her or anyone else from the
looks of it. Patricia blinked under her helmet, not comprehending at
first. Was he saying….was he…?
"… You?" Carmelita said, her voice colored with shock in a rare
moment of pure emotion. "You're…"
Shock, surprise and conflict were rolling off both Carmelita and
Creed, and echoed by her since she felt exactly the same. He….he
was an alien ? This whole time ?
Creed took the initiative, pushing through the shock and not letting it
affect him or his voice. "Hands behind your back, Soran, or whatever
your name is," he ordered, the harshness in his voice amplified,
even to her. Soran nodded calmly and complied while Creed
snapped the binders on him.
The Commander cast a sidelong look at the now cuffed Soran, who
looked exactly the same as the months they served and fought side-
by-side. All that was just an act? He'd been using them this whole
time? "He told me," the Commander finally said quietly. "He just
walked in and told me."
His lips twitched. "Go down with them, help them set up alien
containment," he turned to the table. "I'll be down shortly. There are
some issues that need to be cleared up first."
She was more than happy to salute and back away. She did not
want to be in the same room when the Commander informed
everyone what had happened. A security breach like this was
unacceptable and both Zhang and Bradford were likely going to have
to answer for it somehow. To her knowledge the Commander had
never lost his control or temper. But there was a first time for
everything.
And if this was the time, she wanted to be far away when it
happened.
He deliberately kept his voice calm, but still several of them winced
at the sheer harshness and anger in his voice. And he was angry…
but contrary to what they probably thought, this was one instance
where multiple people were at fault. Yelling at them would serve no
purpose, but action needed to be taken here to ensure it wouldn't
happen again. Because he suspected that the outcome wouldn't be
nearly as… well, good, if the aliens managed to infiltrate them again.
Bradford opened and closed his mouth several times, before just
shaking his head. "I made a mistake, Commander. Everything
appeared to be in order, but I have no excuse here."
"I concur," Zhang agreed with a firm nod. "We failed here, and it
could have cost your life."
"Yes," Bradford tapped on his tablet. "I have all the papers here. We
know now that they must have been forged, but they are identical to
real ones. All his medical history is likewise included and signed off
on by verified doctors."
"So that tells us the aliens can forge authentic documents," Van
Doorn noted. "That will make future verification… difficult."
"Not necessarily forged," Zhang amended with a glance towards Van
Doorn. "It's not unreasonable to assume that there was a Soran
Kakusa and he was either removed or killed. Using an already living
soldier would be much easier than creating a new one."
"I doubt it," the Commander shook his head, becoming more certain
of his conclusion. "He had no good reason to reveal himself if that
was the case. He knows Patricia is a psionic and that I won't exactly
be lenient. He could have continued on, and barring an unexpected
event, I'd have never known."
"You did say that Patricia sensed something off about him," Zhang
recalled. "Patricia might be rendered unreliable if he can influence
her perception of him."
"Patricia only got that from surface emotions," Vahlen pointed out.
"Not a full mind read. If she can't do that, then that argument would
hold more weight. As it stands now, that's not the case."
Everyone was silent. "He's been working against us," Van Doorn
stated. "That can't be forgotten."
"Probably the best move," Bradford sighed. "Who do you want with
you?"
"No one," the Commander shook his head. "I'll conduct the
interrogation myself. I'll have an earpiece so all of you and Patricia
can communicate."
"I suppose you're not worried about him attacking?" Van Doorn noted
rhetorically.
The Commander shrugged. "No, I'm not. If he'd wanted to kill me,
he'd have done it before now. Besides, I'm enhanced and armed. I
can take one alien."
"What of the soldiers?" Bradford asked with a frown. "Do you want to
suppress this?"
"It would be pointless and a lie," the Commander shook his head.
"No, but don't promote it unless asked. This will shake morale, so I
want to assure everyone that there are no more alien infiltrators. I
want blood and DNA tests started now ."
"I'll begin setting it up," Bradford promised. "Vahlen, I'll need your
help with that."
"No," the Commander shook his head. "EXALT is still a threat, and if
the aliens managed to get in, it's possible EXALT did as well. But it's
no longer a top priority."
But he'd been in XCOM long enough to know how the module
worked. It was elevated slightly off the ground and build like a
cylinder and had a very limited amount of room. It was really only
suitable for interrogating specimens who were going to be disposed
of soon after and wasn't appropriate for any sort of long-term
incarceration. Should the Commander decide not to execute him,
he'd likely be moved to a regular cell.
Right now the alien containment room was empty, save for Patricia
and the Internal Council. Vahlen was monitoring the module itself
and the rest were just watching the immobile human doppelganger.
His gauss pistol strapped to his waist, the Commander nodded at
Bradford. "Open it."
He didn't blink.
He just stared at him with his otherwise human eyes, without looking
away once. The Commander didn't know if he'd been doing this and
he hadn't noticed… no, he'd blinked some, he would have at least
noted if it were otherwise. But now he supposed that Soran didn't
see the need to imitate that human function anymore.
"Yes and no," he clarified, shook his head. "My species is called the
Vitakara. I am part of the Zararch… our… intelligence branch, to put
it in terms you understand."
"I was involved very little with the infiltration itself," he answered
slowly. "I suspect that a psionic trigger was placed in someone high
within the Japanese military. We know how XCOM recruits its
soldiers, and since Zararch agents had already imputed the correct
files, it would follow that I would be deemed an acceptable recruit for
the XCOM project. Though we were somewhat surprised that you
didn't perform thorough medical examinations upon arrival to the
Citadel. Regardless, all I know is that when I was activated, I was
sent to the place where Big Sky took me and several other recruits
here."
"I don't know," he pursed his lips. "However, I was not a cheap
investment. You believed that the reason our first wave of
infiltrators… stood out, was because we didn't know how to mimic
you accurately. That was true at first, but we learn fast. That's why
the Zararch agents you've fought over the past months have been
better, but not perfect. They don't need to be."
He waved his hand, indicating the glass walls. "All they need to do is
fit into a crowd. Expending resources for perfect replicas like me
would be a waste and are only reserved for true deep cover
operations."
"So how likely is it that they could replace key figures around the
world?" The Commander asked grimly, lacing his fingers together.
"And what exactly did you do?" The Commander demanded coldly,
lacing his fingers together as his gaze bored into Nartha's. "And how
?"
That was… better than he'd feared. But even a general location was
bad if the aliens wanted to perform a more in-depth search. "I see.
Do they know that Patricia is a psionic then?"
"No." Nartha stated flatly. "I'm unsure what you've deduced on your
own, but I'll clarify it now. The species you've fought so far are under
one commanding species. The Ethereals."
Nartha visibly became uneasy. "Yes, they are. Powerful ones, much
more so than Patricia or any sectoid you've encountered. They are
the sole reason why this collective hasn't fallen apart. They are
feared and respected for good reason. There are not many, but they
make up for it in sheer power and cunning."
Nartha shifted in his chair. "Off the record, Zararch estimates put the
numbers between eight and twenty. I've only met two in my life."
"Easily," Nartha stated easily, and the Commander saw actual worry
in his eyes and his features echoed that sentiment. "You don't
understand what they are capable of. Listen, one Ethereal is all it
takes to conquer a planet or subdue a species."
"Yes, one," Nartha insisted, leaning forward. "Tell me, how do you
think that the mutons were brought into their army?"
Soran pursed his lips. "Perhaps I can illustrate this better by telling
the full story. If you want, of course?"
Oh yes, he most certainly wanted to hear this. Not only was this
fascinating, but it might provide some actual useful information about
the mutons and these Ethereals. "We're under no time constraints.
Go ahead."
"The Commander raised an eyebrow. "And how long ago was this?"
"There were some attempts later," Nartha clarified. "But for the most
part, no. There was no need. They had no understanding or defense
against our technology. We simply planted trackers on key
specimens, listening devices in their tents and towns, and observed
their actions, rituals and wars from a far distance."
"A great deal," Nartha admitted. "The Mutons are tribal by nature and
had advanced their society to the point where tribes numbered in the
tens of thousands. They were an anomaly from the norm because
their knowledge and understanding of weapons, warfare and tactics
was far beyond what should have been possible."
"So what explanation was there for this?" The Commander asked
curiously.
" What is their world like?" Vahlen's voice asked. He supposed she
could be forgiven for breaking protocol here. He repeated the
question.
"So did I at the time," Nartha agreed. "So they decided to test the
intelligence of them. A cache of our tech was deposited near one of
the weaker tribes. The Ethereals wanted to see what they'd do."
"And?" He prompted.
"You haven't told me what they look like," the Commander noted.
"That might be helpful."
Nartha's lips twitched as he remembered. "The two I met were very
different, but some physical characteristics were the same. Both
were exceptionally tall, the smaller of the two I've met was at least
eight feet. They are bipedal and have four arms with five-fingered
hands like yours. Their garb is also very… ornate. They don't show
their faces, and I believe each helm that covers them is unique to
each individual Ethereal.
"So the one you met first," the Commander instructed. "Describe
him."
That was not exactly an image that was encouraging. "A psionic?"
"All Ethereals are psionic," Nartha reminded him with a nod. "And
this one had a palpable aura of command. Not something imaginary
and it wasn't something you noticed when he was in the room. But
when he spoke, his words echoed in your mind far more than they
should have. You wanted to follow his orders and fall in line. I don't
think he was even trying to do it, it's just… something that happens
with them."
"The Battlemaster took issue with the current plan," Nartha said,
some amusement coloring his voice again. "He felt the tactics were
'dishonorable' and scrapped the current plan and instead ordered
that caches of weapons similar to the first test batch be deployed to
dozens of locations around that world. His reasoning was that they
deserved the chance of a 'fair fight.'"
The Commander raised an eyebrow. "That's… oddly honorable."
And not what he'd expected either. It didn't look like Nartha was
lying, and he didn't see a reason he'd start now… but that still
seemed a characteristic of a more merciful species. It would not
have been the path he would have chosen but he could admire the
gesture.
"The Battlemaster was," Nartha said wistfully. "And to this day I still
admire him for that. So he then allowed the mutons a brief amount of
time to use the caches while we prepared to enhance and uplift the
species itself. The Mutons of course, began new wars, even bloodier
when they figured out how to use and create the new weapons.
When the time finally came, the Battlemaster took me and a few
more agents and began the assault on the largest tribe of the
planet."
"By the time he reached the chief, the remaining soldiers were
fleeing," Nartha finished. "But yes, rather easily and spectacularly.
His final act before he killed him was tearing the knowledge of his
language out psionically and stabbing him in the heart. He wasted no
time in taking command of the remaining warriors and non-violent
population."
"And I suppose after securing it, he moved to the next one?" The
Commander asked.
"No need for cloning," Nartha disagreed, shaking his head. "They
reproduce quickly on their own. They lack the genetic or physical
diversity present in your or my species. There are subtle differences
between them, but not very apparent unless you know what to look
for. The Zararch believe that the Ethereals and sectoids have been
creating offshoots, even further enhanced mutons, but we've seen
no proof of that."
"So how do they operate now?" The Commander asked. "Are they
automatically assimilated into your army or how is the relationship
between the two species set up?"
"Young mutons are allowed to grow up within their species for the
first five years," Nartha explained, crossing his arms. "They mature
quickly, and their basic intelligence doesn't rise much beyond those
formative years. The sectoids oversee the induction of species into
the military, so they choose the best young mutons and take them
away to one of the military training planets. At the same time they
also take the weakest, deformed and ill."
"The Ethereals are a very practical species," Nartha stated, his tone
turning cold. "The sectoids even more so. They use deformed and
weak ones for their experiments. I don't know what they do with
them, but I'm certain those children wish they had died. The floaters
are a direct result of the experiments; mutons who serve no purpose
other than to die in battle, slaves to their programmed mind."
Nartha shook his head once. "The point of that story, Commander, is
to demonstrate that the Ethereals are not to be trifled with. That was
one of the more honorable ones. I know for a fact that most aren't
nearly as merciful."
"So what is the point of all this?" The Commander asked, indicating
the area around him. "The conquering of species? The invasions?
The Ethereals don't exactly seem benevolent, but I don't think they're
doing all this just for power. Why are they interested in humanity?"
It did make sense, but the Commander felt there was more.
"Anything else?"
"I don't know for sure," Nartha admitted, shrugging. "The invasions
and abductions were initial tests to see how you would respond and
adapt. By what accounts I know, you passed once the Hamburg
Assault was pushed back. The Ethereal overseeing Earth planned
for the possibility of that, and wasn't that surprised." The
Commander held back from asking details about this Ethereal for the
moment and let Nartha finish.
" Her," Nartha corrected. "I'm not convinced the Ethereals have
genders like us, but the voice that came out of that orb was feminine,
so I'm going with that. She was called Sicarius… yes, that's the
closest translation. She was far different than the Battlemaster. She
was much shorter, only standing at roughly eight feet and wore black
robes that covered her entire body, the material itself adorned with
gray symbols. Her helmet was also… disconcerting, it was
essentially a silver orb. No eyeholes or breathing holes. Thankfully I
didn't notice much."
"I personally think she thought this assignment was beneath her,"
Nartha shrugged. "Most of the major decisions regarding the plan for
humanity have been given by the Zar'Chon. I suppose Sicarius got
her wish in the end, since just before I was deployed she left and the
Zar'Chon told me that the Ethereals were sending someone else
who would 'Actually take humanity seriously.'"
Nartha clasped his hands together and rested them on the table.
"Officially… no one other than the Ethereals, and maybe some of the
Sectoid Hive Commanders know. But there are rumors. One of
which being that the Ethereals are dying."
That did make sense on some level, but the Commander wasn't
quite convinced that was the full motivation. Aegis had spoken of
then moving onto more advanced civilizations after Earth was taken,
so even if there was some sort of final threat the Ethereals were
preparing for, it likely wouldn't happen for a very long time.
He shifted in his seat. "I didn't think highly of humanity initially, most
of what I was told was that the majority were unreasonable and
warmongering. But I suppose spending time among you has
changed my mind on that. I had friends among the soldiers and
learned much. You have your own thoughts, motivations, dreams
and desires, and I don't see you as any less sophisticated than my
own species before our own meeting with the Ethereals."
Nartha shook his head. "But that wouldn't have been enough. What
finalized my decision was you, Commander. Before this I wouldn't
have thought anyone could pose a threat to them, but now… I think
you could be the one to challenge them successfully."
"Flattering," the Commander said slowly. "But I'm not under any
illusions as to our strength against the full alien army. I know a final
invasion is coming."
"It is," Nartha nodded. "Which is why your time to prepare is even
shorter than you think. You need to strike quickly, decisively. Most
importantly, you need to unite your species now, otherwise you will
lose. You already have begun evening the playing field in terms of
weapons and tech, but the war for Earth will be much larger than
squads of eight."
He'd suspected that. "I see. You truly believe that XCOM can
organize a defense?"
"If anyone can, it is you with XCOM," Nartha nodded. "And there are
others who are tired of living under the Ethereals. No one has done
anything because it was an unspoken law the Ethereals cannot be
challenged. But if they learn of a war… it might be enough to
convince them to do the same."
"What debt?" The Commander asked. "You said they saved your
species?"
"Yes," Nartha nodded. "Which is why I dislike going to war with them,
but they will not listen any other way. They have taken advantage of
us, and those who raised questions were quickly removed. That has
happened long enough, I feel."
There was silence between them for a few moments. "He's been
telling the truth," Patricia informed him in a subdued voice. "At least
what he believes is true."
That wasn't hard to believe. If it turned out that Nartha had made or
lied about this, then the Commander would have honestly been more
impressed than annoyed that he'd said it so convincingly.
So… there were other aliens out there. An entire civilization that
might be convinced into fighting the Ethereals. Although it wasn't out
of the question that Nartha might be exaggerating the number of
people willing to fight. He needed more context. "I don't suppose you
could share the story of how the Ethereals saved your species in the
first place?"
"I can," he said. "But it might take a while."
"I suppose it could have been either very positive or negative," the
Commander guessed. "I can see war breaking out."
"It very likely could have," Nartha agreed. "Remembering our history,
if even one race had refused and gone to war, we would very likely
have destroyed ourselves. But fortunately, the opposite happened.
We came together as one species and actually made moves to unite
in full. Similar to your United Nations if it actually worked."
"We started dying," Nartha said grimly, his face darkening at the
memory. "Thousands at once. Everyone thought it was an anomaly
at first, since the majority of those dying were older, but what raised
questions was how they found the bodies. Their skin was split open
and their internal organs had either exploded, liquidated, or quit
unnaturally. After a few more waves of much younger people died,
they soon found a common cause: Genetic modification."
Just hearing the story made the Commander uneasy, not just
because he could see some parallels with what they were doing
here. "I assume the time varied on several factors?"
"Age, what was modified, how extensive it was and how much they
were modified already," Nartha clarified. "Which was a problem…
because the scientists, so sure of their own creations, were the most
extensively modified of all. The short version, Commander, is that
unless we could find a cure, our entire species would die within a
century."
"This wasn't something restricted to the elite," Nartha sighed. "It was
a part of life. It was the equivalent of phones for you. Even if it is
basic, everyone in the civilized world has one. And yes, there were
those who chose not to be additionally modified. But it didn't matter
since our children had been modified in the womb to ensure they
came out healthy. They were already doomed, they would just be the
last to die."
"Not when something has been proven," Nartha said, his lips curling
up. "Unlike certain members of humanity, we actually listen to our
scientists and trust that they aren't lying. Unless someone could
provide some kind of evidence refuting an established and proven
position, they were ostracized and dismissed. In retrospect, it was a
mistake not to be more skeptical or deny other viewpoints. Perhaps
someone would have noticed if the stigma of speaking against
scientists hadn't existed."
"I assume there was panic once the public learned they could be
wiped out?" the Commander asked after a few seconds.
"No," Nartha shook his head. "They could not find a solution. More of
us kept dying, and now it was mostly the younger generations and
scientists. Our population had already been reduced to half of what it
was and hope was running out. Every scientist, teacher and
engineer was working furiously at all hours of the day, but the
general population was slowly resigning themselves to death and a
not-insignificant number began committing suicide, rather than wait
for the inevitable."
"The Ethereals?"
"We owed them," Nartha agreed. "But I'm certain the Ethereals didn't
do it completely out of the goodness of their hearts. They knew how
to use us and use us well. We didn't object of course, since everyone
was so grateful to simply be alive. But the honeymoon period wore
off a while ago. The Ethereals control everything our species does
now."
"No," Nartha agreed. "It's… conflicting. Our lives have improved for
sure, and we know more than ever before. But in return we've
essentially been reduced to second-class citizens. Tools to be used
when appropriate. My original dream was for us and the Ethereals to
have an alliance similar to the sectoids, more as equals. But I know
that will not happen. They see no reason to change the terms and
none of my own people will speak up for fear of expulsion or
execution. There is only one path if the role of the Vitakara is to
change. We must fight."
" Ask him how he resists psionics," Patricia asked. "I can sense him,
but only if I concentrate only on him."
"Let us hope it doesn't come to that," Nartha inclined his head. "But if
you want to strike a blow against the aliens now, I can help you."
The Commander leaned forward. "I think that would be a good plan.
I'm also curious about one more thing, what about EXALT?"
"I know little about why the Ethereals want to use them," Nartha
shrugged. "But I do know that if they underestimate the Ethereals,
they will be reduced to puppets. They are a distraction, Commander.
You would do best to focus on the real threat."
Easier said than done. "At this base… I assume it will be heavily
defended?"
"Yes and no," Nartha revealed, shaking his head. "You will find no
turrets or armies of soldiers. But if it's under the sectoids, you have
more to be worried about. Their experiments are arguably just as
dangerous and highly unpredictable. But your greatest threat will be
the Hive Commander, assuming the sectoids deemed it necessary.
While not as powerful as an Ethereal, a Hive Commander is at least
as dangerous as Patricia."
He made a mental note of that. "So now for one final question, for
now," the Commander said, tapping his finger on the table. "What
about you? What do you expect or want from this?"
The Commander was silent for a few seconds. "I will decide that
later," he finally said and stood. "You've earned a reprieve from
execution. What you've provided will change the war, so thank you,
Nartha. Your fate will be decided later."
"I think it's safe to say we're in much deeper than we thought," Van
Doorn commented. "That… it's hard to think the same after hearing
that."
"He was," Patricia assured him quietly. "Everything he said was true.
Trust me, I made sure. He even stopped whatever psionic distraction
he'd been doing."
"It doesn't look good," Bradford said, his voice clearly subdued.
"Even if the Ethereals are only as half as powerful as he claims… we
don't have a defense to that. We're not ready."
"Unless we take them out," Patricia argued. "It worked with the
dreadnought!"
"And can we rely on that every time?" Van Doorn demanded. "It
doesn't matter how many we take down, they'll just send more!
When it comes down to it we're one planet and one species. How
many do the Ethereals control?!"
"Enough."
Everyone stopped and looked to the Commander, who had his back
turned to them. He was looking at a screen displaying the general
area that Nartha had identified was the alien base. On the surface
there seemed nothing but sand and rock, but a subterranean scan
had revealed a clear underground base that extended far below.
He'd been watching it, deep in thought and the rest of them had
continued talking as normal. But now he held their attention as he
turned around. A newfound resolve and determination was in his
eyes and was reflected in his voice. "Our task is no more impossible
than before," he stated, looking at each of them. "If you thought that I
didn't consider this possible, or even if you didn't consider it, wake up
and face the facts. You heard what Nartha said. We should never
have lasted this long. But we have . We weren't supposed to take the
Dreadnought, but we did . We were not supposed to pose a threat,
but we do ."
He paused, his tone frosty. "We should not worry or agonize about
what the aliens are capable of. We know now how powerful they are
now, what they can do and what they have at their disposal.
Knowledge is power and now we can adapt to prepare. We are not
going to stop. We are going to drive the Ethereals off Earth forever."
The Commander shook his head. "But first we will cripple the alien
operations on our planet," he turned back to the screen. "And once
we storm their base, we will move to the next. When the next UFO
lands we will take it as well. We will continue turning Earth into a
death trap for any alien that dares step foot on it."
"The virus is entering the final stages," Vahlen updated, even her
voice subdued from the gravity of the situation. "I'm refining the
effects now from the data I've gathered, but it will work-"
"Can you have it ready to deploy by the end of the month?" The
Commander demanded.
She hesitated, then finally nodded. "I can, though I'll have to devote
several more resources towards it. The Chryssalid project is entering
testing phase. It would help if I had a few more test subjects for
implementation testing-"
"Done," the Commander stated. "You'll have them by the end of the
week. Bradford, make it happen."
She gave him a salute, her eyes filled with resolve. "Give the word,
Commander."
She took the tablet gingerly and began scrolling through it. "Van
Doorn, have some of the soldiers secure Nartha and bring him up
here."
There was one issue he hadn't spoken to them about: the actual
uniting of humanity. But luckily, he had an idea and what had initially
seemed like a worst-case scenario might wind up being their best
chance.
He'd thought he'd have time to plan a little more thoroughly, but that
didn't seem to be an option anymore. Change needed to happen
now, and his power to do so was limited.
A/N: The next chapter is written and is being reviewed now. Since it
might not be finished before Sunday, I want to wish everyone a
Merry Christmas in case I don't get another chance to and once
again thank you for reading my work. Seriously, thanks to every
single one of you.
-Xabiar
Alien Base Assault: Sectoid Hive
Alien Base Assault: Sectoid Hive
The Commander had considered the best way to deal with the
distribution of the knowledge that "Soran" was a spy, but had finally
decided the best way was the most direct. He'd initially thought that
letting the information get out on its own would be sufficient, but then
realized that way might lead to important details being distorted until
what was being shared wasn't true at all.
With that in mind, after Patricia had put together a list of soldiers for
the assault, he'd ordered them to assemble in the Barracks and just
planned on giving them some basic facts. "Soran" was an alien, had
turned himself in, and had provided them with the location of an alien
base. The details about the aliens themselves would be restricted
until they could they knew what they were going to do with it.
He'd declared it informal, and the soldiers knew at this point that he
meant it. Not that he'd been overly concerned they'd take advantage
of that; in the barracks now there were no soldiers that
unprofessionally dressed. All of them wore the plain XCOM fatigues
at least; only the soldiers selected for the assault were geared up
and ready to go. At this point, few of them aside Patricia knew the
full, or even partial extent of what was going on, but there had
undoubtedly been speculation.
Still, he hated speeches like this and didn't know how best to start it,
so he opted for the direct approach. "I've asked you to assemble
here to ensure that I am the first person you hear this from. This is
one rumor that cannot go unconfirmed." He paused. "The former
XCOM soldier known as Soran Kakusa has turned himself in as an
alien spy."
There was a barrage of gasps, sharp intakes of breath, widened
eyes and looks of surprise and shock from the soldiers gathered
across the room. They refrained from quietly conversing with their
neighbors, but just from their expressions and body language he
could tell they wanted answers. "I'll stress that it was voluntary," he
repeated. "And because of this he has revealed to us a great deal
about the aliens themselves, of which the important parts of which
will be compiled and distributed. But what immediately concerns us
now is that we have the location of an alien base established on
Earth."
There were several shouts of "Yes Overseer!" and all the armored
soldiers began moving towards the front and his job done, the
Commander turned away and began walking up to the Situation
Room. He clicked his earpiece. "Van Doorn?"
" Here."
"Have Nartha brought up now, ensure he's restrained effectively, and
tell everyone else the operation is about to start."
He heard the nod in Van Doorn's voice. "Will do, Commander. See
you up here."
Still, he could at least feel some relief at not having to hide who he
was anymore. After that conversation, the fear of execution had died
down somewhat. He no longer expected that to happen to him, but
the question now was what would happen to him.
But the important parts he'd condensed to the Commander and now
everything relied upon what he did with that data. At least he'd sent
some false data to the Zar'Chon before deciding to turn himself in,
so he had some time before they suspected his death or betrayal. It
wasn't inconceivable that the Commander or Zhang would use him
to funnel bad intel to the Zararch, though they had to know that
would only work a few times before they caught on.
He did wonder how his friends would react, even though they likely
would consider him one no longer. He suspected not very well; it was
traditionally accepted that anyone, regardless of species, wouldn't
exactly cope well when learning that someone they'd become friends
with was all a lie. He wondered if any of them would come speak to
him, should they even be allowed.
The door to the cell abruptly swung open and Nartha looked up,
assuming a neutral expression. Two armored and helmeted XCOM
soldiers he didn't recognize walked in. "Up," the taller one ordered,
his armor striped with navy blue on the chest plate and legs. Nartha
complied and presented his hands.
"May I ask where I'm going?" Nartha finally said as they began
escorting him out of the cells.
"To the Commander, on his orders," the woman answered, her own
tone tight. "You apparently wanted to help. I guess we'll see how true
that is."
Really. Hmm, now he had an idea of why he was being escorted up.
The Commander likely wouldn't waste time after he'd revealed the
Sectoid Hive, and since he was the only alien with knowledge of how
they operated, it would make sense for the Commander to exploit his
knowledge. This reinforced his decision to trust the Commander with
this; he was fortunately acting exactly like he hoped he would.
"Why did you do it?" The man asked as they walked, his tone more
accusation than anything. However, Nartha wasn't quite sure how he
should answer. They could be asking why he'd worked against them,
or asking why he'd turned himself in . Those had very different
answers.
"Hmm," the man muttered as they walked, but kept silent as they
escorted him up to the Situation Room. The door hissed open and
they stepped inside. Every one of the Commander's inner circle was
there. Zhang, Van Doorn, Shen, Vahlen, all crowded around a
holotable. The Commander was in the center, behind the holotable,
looked up and greeted him with a nod.
The soldiers saluted and stepped back as they exited the room. After
the door slid shut, Bradford sighed. "You might as well get over here
and make yourself useful," Nartha complied and began walking over,
figuring best not to push his luck in asking the binders be removed.
"Be careful," Bradford warned harshly, steel in his voice. "One false
move and-"
"Now that we've established the obvious, let's get to work," the
Commander interrupted, looking at all of them in the eyes. "You
wanted to make yourself useful, Nartha. I want to see just how true
that is."
"Provided I have the knowledge, I will tell you what I know," Nartha
promised.
Ah, right. They didn't know. "Yes, the majority of the sectoids XCOM
has fought have been of the pilot variety. Even those you've
encountered on abductions. They make poor soldiers, but they are
the most expendable of the species. Combat-oriented sectoids are
generally not created without a major cause."
" Grown," Nartha corrected her, maintaining eye contact. "And yes,
each sectoid variant is grown from a pre-created template. Pilots,
scientists, engineers, leaders, all are specifically designed and
created for one specific purpose."
She frowned. "They couldn't have always been like this, yes?"
"I doubt those will cause too much of a problem," the Commander
said, pursing his lips. "Especially since there might be chance they
turn against the sectoids."
"A base this important will likely be under the control of a Hive
Commander," Nartha revealed, shivering at the thought of those
creatures. "You asked about the sectoids before they turned to
genetic modification, Vahlen. A Hive Commander is one of the
sectoids from before they turned to cloning completely. I don't know
much about their history, but from what the Zararch have learned,
the sectoids lived in a caste system of sorts, and one day the ruling
class of sectoids decided to perfect the species as they saw fit. A
goal the Ethereals helped them fulfill. Those ruling sectoids are now
the Hive Commanders."
"I suppose it's lucky we've got a psion of our own," Van Doorn
commented. "Can Patricia… shield soldiers from the potential
effects?"
"You heard the Commander," Alexei said, resting his arms on his
legs as he leaned forward. "We can't blame ourselves for that.
Seriously. He looked perfectly human."
"Maybe, but it could have been far worse," Samuel protested. "If
something had happened…"
"But it didn't," Creed finally said, leaning back into the skyranger
seat. "I don't know why, but… he did surrender."
A relief, since she might have refused if that was a condition. This
was where she belonged, and from how sincere the Commander
had been when telling her that, as well as his emotions and body
language, she believed he held the same opinion about himself. In
his case, it was understandable. The Commander couldn't be risked,
and she wondered how hard he'd fought to go on the Mercado
Estate assault.
She suddenly felt unreasonably tight and looked down at her hands
to see them clutched into fists. She then realized that she was
physically reacting to what everyone here was feeling. Tense, tight,
on edge. Not really unexpected, and it varied from soldier to soldier.
The newer ones, Fakhr, Maria, Lautaro, they were much less intense
than the ones who'd actually known and worked with Nartha.
They were still talking, and she'd lost track of the conversation but
knew that it needed to end before they got too much farther. They
needed to be completely focused on what she knew would be a hard
fight. "He did it because he thinks we have a chance."
"Why he turned himself in," she said wearily. "You wondered, and
that's a reason why. It also helped that the propaganda he'd been
told about humans didn't match from what he saw with us."
"How do you know?" Samuel demanded, his helmet not hiding the
intensity she felt from him.
"I was there when he was questioned," Patricia said. "We need to
focus now. We can discuss or worry about this later . We can't let
this distract us, otherwise that's going to get us hurt or killed. Got it?"
She felt some resignation from all of them, even as they nodded, but
they did relax a little which she was grateful for. She rested her hand
on the cylinder on her belt which contained the outsider shard.
Nartha had said that the signature it emanated would be essentially
an all-clear signal which would open the door and let them enter the
base.
" But your greatest concern will be what Soran has designated as
the 'Hive Commander,'" Vahlen interjected. Interesting. Patricia
couldn't remember her ever observing combat operations before.
"From his descriptions, it's an old and psionically powerful sectoid.
Much more so than any encountered previously. We are unsure of
it's actual power, but there is a good chance that it will try to
psionically influence or control you. Be wary and careful, because
the thoughts you have might not be yours."
As if on command, all of the soldiers in the skyranger turned to look
at her. "Is that possible, Overseer?" Maria asked, her voice tight. The
Ukrainian was still getting used to everything, but she'd so far been
very composed despite how hectic things had been since she'd
arrived. Mind control had probably not something she'd had to worry
about in the Berkut.
"Mind control? Yes, I know it is," Patricia said softly. "I've done it
before, and if this Hive Commander is as powerful as me, it can
probably do the same thing."
"I don't suppose there's a way to block it?" Afif asked, clasping his
hands together. "Or at least mitigate it?"
"Not that I know of," Patricia shook her head. "The only thing I can
suggest is keeping the possibility in the back of your mind. Mind
manipulation is insidious and is almost unstoppable, especially if you
don't realize it," Patricia flexed her hands. "I might be able to sense it
if one of you is being influenced… but I don't know if that will work.
We have to watch each other, make sure we're all acting normally."
" A good plan," the Commander agreed. "Once you get the door
open, you'll likely drop into a hanger of sorts. It's also possible it's
being used as a storage area as well. Expect immediate resistance
and secure the base."
" Keep all possible captives in their cells," the Commander ordered.
"Do not release any until the base is clear. We don't know what the
sectoids have done to them, and it's highly possible that they're
compromised. Do not listen to anything they say, no matter how
much they plead."
"I can always verify to make sure," Patricia suggested. "I might be
able to sense psionic tampering. I know what to look for."
" Do that if they have information," the Commander amended. "But
do not free them. Those orders stand. Understood?"
" Good. I will keep updating you based on new information," the
Commander finished. "Good luck. Citadel Commander, out."
" This is Big Sky to Thunder Team," Big Sky said over the comms.
"We're approaching the LZ now. Fallen Sky, maintain flight until the
hanger doors are open. Overseer Trask will secure the initial area."
"Yes, Overseer!" They shouted and she felt their initial tenseness,
shock and confusion fade away as determination, resolve and fury
set in. They were ready to take revenge for the thousands of humans
who'd died or been abducted. Today would be another day they
struck a blow to the aliens, one they wouldn't forget.
The altitude fell and the skyranger shook as it landed on the ground.
The ramp descended with a hiss onto the sandy dunes. "Deploy!"
She ordered. "Weapons ready!"
They charged out with their weapons raised onto the desolate and
abandoned desert. Sand dunes extended as far as she could see,
except for one oddly flat square area. She motioned them forward,
and they took cautious steps towards that direction. She had them
surround where the square was and she cautiously stepped onto it
and slammed her foot down.
Here goes nothing . She waved it over the device and waited.
Nothing happened at first, but a half-minute later, the flat area that
had seemingly been desert opened up. Two panels slid into the
sides, sand spilling down into the hidden base. Patricia looked down
into the dark abyss, and saw faint pulsing lights on the bottom.
Patricia slid down the rope and landed on the ground with a soft
thud. She quickly looked over the soldiers behind her and did a quick
head count. Everyone was here, and Myra towered over everyone in
the back. Good. Time to move out.
Now she turned around and took a quick look at her surroundings.
Already she was reminded of the Dreadnought. The walls were the
shimmering alien metal, and the faint pulsing that she remembered
was stronger than she'd ever felt before. It wasn't lit well, and the
only purplish lights came from some small ones attached to the wall,
which also helped brighten the room as the metal reflected it.
Directly and front of them was a multi-colored shimmering shield, like
the ones on the UFOs and Dreadnought. It was about the size of a
typical garage door, but would be easily big enough for all of them to
get through. She sincerely hoped that the sectoids weren't waiting
for them on the other side, since there was almost no cover before
the entrance and she couldn't see beyond it.
As she felt her senses dull as she mentally probed the area, she
noted the three assaults going up right before the door and falling to
one knee, weapons raised. Creed and Afif stood at each of her
sides, protecting her as she worked. The rest of them either took a
firm stance or fell to one knee as well, weapons all pointed at the
entrance.
She closed her eyes and pushed outward. What immediately hit here
was that there were a lot of quiet minds in the next room. Like
sleeping… but even quieter. Sleeping people had bursts of activity,
usually from dreams, but this was just flat . Human?
No… wait.
She could sense distinct minds now, those that felt nothing like
humans. It was less individual minds, and more like one mind with
several different points. She nodded to herself in her trance. That
would line up with what Nartha had told them, of them
communicating telepathically, and with them being clones, it might
follow that they had the same thought patterns as well.
"Wait for it," Patricia cautioned, raising a fist as she formulated her
attack. The Mechtoids might not sense her, which meant she might
be able to use it. She clutched her fist, as she'd learned it helped
with visualizing what she was doing. She charged directly into the
mind of one of the quiet alien minds and found herself in what
seemed to be shifting, shimmering purple ball.
She snapped back into the real world with a start. She placed a hand
to her head as she readjusted to simply feeling emotions. "What was
that?" He asked.
A sudden squeal and the sound of plasma fire suddenly filled the
area in the distance. "Our opening," she said, hoisting her autorifle
up and aiming at the entrance. "Go in now!"
Metal boxes were stacked in neat rows in the room, and there was a
multitude of symmetrical pillars holding up the dull ceiling. On the far
left wall were dozens of pods containing green liquid stacked to the
ceiling and on the right everything was empty, and was also where
the majority of the sectoids were.
The panicked mechtoid had killed three of the sectoids before being
killed itself. Minus the one Samuel had killed, the rest were
spreading out and beginning to rain plasma on the XCOM soldiers
who were taking cover behind pillars and boxes themselves.
"Covering fire out!" Galia confirmed as she laid down fire on some
sectoids which allowed Maria to get to a pillar on the far right. Unlike
the previous times, Galia was without Aluma since Patricia hadn't
wanted to risk the dog unnecessarily since they had no idea how the
alien base affected animals.
Patricia swung out of cover and let loose a barrage of gauss fire at
the mechtoid closest to her. Several rounds hit with a thud but she
immediately fell back as the green plasma flew past her face, far too
close for comfort.
"Mordecai! Lock down the right mechtoids!" She ordered as she saw
him take the far back position Samuel had been.
The bang of his gauss sniper rifle rang out even through the loud fire
of the other weapons. The mechtoid cannon attached to its right arm
suddenly began leaking green smoke. "Maria! Now!"
Both gunners fired on the weakened mechtoid and this time hit it
squarely in the chest and head. The alien mech stumbled back and
fell to one mechanical knee. One of the sectoids nearby stopped
firing and began consolidating purple energy around it's head.
"Copy!" Lautaro called and tossed two smoke grenades towards the
line of XCOM soldiers. The pink smoke rose around her and she
quickly set her helmet to filter it out. Eden tossed several more
smoke grenades to the sectoid line which were momentarily hidden
by a sudden cloud of pink smoke.
Patricia knew that now was their chance, which meant she had to
take one of her own now. She let her autorifle fall to the ground and
clenched her fists and she concentrated on the soldiers around her.
Time slowed down as her power gathered as she mentally synched
her soldiers together, now all of them knew where each sectoid was
and what they had to do.
Myra took advantage of the lull in sectoid fire and charged directly
into the sectoid line and raised her left wrist and sprayed out a fine
mist against the center of the sectoids who squealed in terror as the
cloud touched them. Patricia was somewhat surprised but suddenly
gathered what it was from Myra's mind.
Acid.
The rest of the soldiers took better cover and continued firing on the
sectoids. The ones enveloped in the acidic cloud squealed and
shrieked as they began dissolving into gray and yellow liquid. Myra
prepared to unleash another volley but now the mechtoids focused
on her and she stumbled back, smoke rising from her armor as a
barrage of plasma fire slammed into her.
" Falling back," she informed them as she raised her laser weapon
and began firing back. Patricia broke the mind link with them once
the pressure in her mind became too unbearable and gritted her
teeth as she picked up her autorifle again.
She swung her weapon out again and looked at the mechtoid nearby
who which was somehow still alive. But now a transparent, faintly
purple shield enveloped it as it shot green gouts of plasma at Maria,
preventing any sort of retaliation.
"Outsiders!" Creed called and she looked to the far back where he
was pointing.
Four of the orange crystalline aliens walked in, wielding plasma rifles
as calmly surveyed the room. Carmelita, who was still firing from the
back, was now very exposed.
"Get out of there, Carmelita!" She ordered as she began firing on the
shielded mechtoids.
" Yeah," she answered, as she pulled something from her belt. "But
not before a parting gift." She tossed a small grenade towards the
group of outsiders who began running towards the fight. It exploded
with the black symbiote substance, immobilizing two of them.
Carmelita took a running leap and jumped back to the safety of
XCOM lines.
Ok, that would slow them down for a moment. A shriek and brief
explosion caught her attention and she looked towards the middle to
see one of the mechtoids explode and fall to the ground, leaking oil
and blood. She also noticed that most of the sectoids were dead,
and the remaining three were heading behind the outsiders.
"Fakhr! Take out the trapped ones!" She ordered, seeing the
outsiders trying to free themselves by shooting the substance with
their rifles. "Creed! Eden! Covering fire!"
The two of them began laying down a lethal spread of gauss fire as
Fakhr fell to one knee and raised her rocket launcher. "Lining up the
shot!" She yelled. "Firing!"
The rocket sped to the two outsiders in a second and lit them up with
a brilliant explosion that shook the ground. Fakhr had also managed
to get one of the sectoids as well. Fortunately the one who was also
providing the psionic shield to the damaged mechtoids as well.
More gauss shots rang out from behind her and she saw that
mechtoids fall to the ground, two bullet holes in the head that leaked
out golden blood. Mordecai. Excellent. The two living outsiders were
apparently realizing they couldn't win and began backing up, still
firing their plasma weapons and moving quickly enough so none of
the soldiers got a clear shot.
The outsider, with cracks in the armor, fell to one knee from the force
of the blast, and was ultimately killed by one more shot to the head
from Carmelita.
The room fell silent.
She looked up to see if the ceilings were clear, and seeing nothing
on the bare metal, looked around the room. "Let's see what's here,"
she ordered. "Iosif, Sarah, let's check the pods." Their Russian battle
medic and Canadian scout rushed over to her and they went over to
the wall of pods.
Upon closer inspection there were definitely people inside. "I guess
this is where they've been taking the abductees," Sarah muttered
sadly as she put a hand on one of the pods. "Though not really
unexpected."
"I don't see an interface," Iosif said as he knelt down and began
feeling the pods over. "Each pod looks self-contained though. They
might be alive."
Patricia put a hand on the pod in front of her and concentrated. Yes,
they were definitely in some kind of stasis. "They're not dead," she
confirmed. "I can sense that much. They don't seem to be aware. It's
like a coma."
"We'll worry about that later," Patricia said, turning towards the exit
leading further into the base. "The important thing is that we've just
saved hundreds of lives. But we need to clear the rest of the base
first."
All of them fell silent and Patricia didn't hear anything at first, then
after a few more seconds the sounds reached her ears. "Crying,"
she muttered as she walked forward.
"It sounds like babies," Galia added uncertainly. "But that can't be
right…"
" I'm not sure of that, Overseer," the Commander interjected. "We're
picking it up too. Unless the Hive Commander is influencing us as
well, it seems to be real."
Now that was disconcerting. Patricia wasn't exactly sure she wanted
to find the source, but they didn't have a choice. If there were
children here, they needed to help them. "Form up and let's follow
the sound," she ordered, walking up to the exit. "Be wary for a trap."
The wailing was much more audible now, and it set Patricia on edge.
The hallways were actually fairly open, though there was no cover
whatsoever. They were also inexplicably better lit despite there not
being any obvious lights. It was essentially a really long tunnel.
They'd gone down the right side, since that was where the crying
was coming from, and the further they went, the more uncomfortable
she felt.
It wasn't just in her head either. All of them felt it; the dull throbbing
that had only become more evident once the rush of adrenaline
faded. She wondered if it was worse for her because she was
psionic and was more sensitive to alien tech. Whatever. She just
wished this throbbing in her head would fade.
"Do you really think they have children here?" Nazar asked quietly,
his weapon raised as he looked around cautiously.
"I'm more worried about why they're crying," Fakhr added slowly. "I
don't think they're being treated well."
They all froze and pointed their weapons at it. It was set up exactly
like the others; a shimmering multicolor barrier. It was much smaller
than the other one, but still large enough for them to get through.
Myra might have trouble, though. "Let me see what's there," Patricia
said and closed her eyes again as she focused into the nearby room.
And nearly screamed as it felt like a screw was being driven into her
skull. She stumbled back into Creed who quickly steadied her. "What
happened?" He demanded.
"Pain," she gasped. "I should have felt it earlier. I think this place is
interfering with my senses. We need to get in there now."
The reaction from the other room was instantaneous. The twelve or
so sectoids in the room looked up from various tables, pods and
computers and were immediately met with a hail of gauss and laser
fire. Seven were killed outright and the rest scrambled back but
barely lasted more than a few more seconds as James, Carmelita
and Alexei charged in to finish the job.
Alexei gunned one down in the back. James shredded the leg of one
and finished the crawling creature on the ground with another blast.
Carmelita leapt in front of the last one and unceremoniously blew it's
head to nothing with the alloy cannon. Patricia herself ripped one
apart as it tried to flee backwards.
She quickly swept her weapon around looking for more threats, but
saw none. "We're clear," she muttered as she looked around.
"Everyone in here now."
Patricia led the rest of them inside and she immediately sucked in
her breath as she looked around the room. It was slightly smaller in
size than the storage area they'd come through, though not by much.
On the right side of the room were what appeared to be metal pods
of some kind spaced evenly down the room to the end.
"In case the invasion fails," Creed suggested softly. "Why wouldn't
the aliens try to grow their own human soldiers? We're exactly what
they want."
Patricia turned back to the entrance. "Myra, watch the outside. We're
looking around here for a moment."
"Overseer?" Lautaro said hesitantly. "I think you should look at this."
Patricia walked over to where he was and pursed her lips at what
she saw. Four glass cells, each containing a human within them. But
all of them were different in some way. One had his arms altered so
much they looked like hybrids of sectoid and human skins and flesh;
another woman's face had been altered so much it no longer
seemed human, more like a rodent. One man seemed unaltered, but
was just standing up straight, a happy smile on his face as he looked
sightlessly beyond her.
Patricia shook her head. "Nothing we can do right now." Upon closer
inspection it seemed that the test subjects were apparently oblivious
to anything around them. "Don't disturb them."
"Uh, Overseer," Maria said grimly, walking up. "I've found where the
crying was coming from."
Patricia motioned everyone to keep looking around and went over to
the far corner were Maria was. She froze when she saw what was at
the end, a small square about the height of the tables where the
distinct sound of crying was coming from. Steeling herself, she
walked forward and after taking a deep breath, looked down.
It was a sight she'd never forget. A mass grave of babies that were
filled the pit, the abominations wriggled around in the pit like worms
or maggots, still alive, still conscious, and still crying. She felt the
sour bile rise in her throat and abruptly turned away. She wasn't an
overly disturbed person… but that… that was genuinely horrifying.
"I guess that's what they do when they're finished," Maria muttered in
stunned and disgusted tones. "Just throw them in a pit until…"
" They do kill them," Nartha's voice interjected. "But only to use them
again."
"Practical," she spat. "Right." She walked over to one of the pods
attached to the wall and looked inside. It was designed somewhat
like a coffin, if it was metal, more curved and covered the face. In it
was a naked human male, or what was left of him. It looked as
though they were trying to take out his intestines…
No…
She sucked in her breath as she spotted something she should have
earlier. The chest was rising and falling ever so slightly. He was still
alive ! She quickly pulled out her pistol aimed it at the where the
head was under the pod.
"They're still alive!" She spat, pointing at the man. "I'm not going to
let them suffer anymore!"
"I…" she gritted her teeth as a sharp pain stabbed into her head. "I…
Commander, what should I do?"
Patricia looked down at the man and focused on his mind. Just the
faintest touch was enough for her to whimper and she took a step
back. "He can feel everything. "
" Then put them out of their misery," he ordered. "We won't learn
anything from them."
Patricia raised her pistol and fired and the chest stopped rising.
Several of the other soldiers had also walked over to the other pods
and repeated the same grim task. As Carmelita, Maria and Mordecai
executed the tortured test subjects, she noticed Eden standing over
one, her helmet off and aiming her pistol at the test subject.
Patricia frowned and walked over to her, as she'd just been standing
there, not moving for nearly half a minute. As she got closer she got
worried as she saw tears on her face. Oh, not good. Not now . "Hey,"
she demanded, trying to keep calm. "Get it together, Eden. We're
going to make them pay."
"What's the point?" Eden muttered tonelessly, her eyes never looking
away from the body. "One base. One alien. They won't stop. They'll
just keep coming."
"You don't get it," Eden interrupted in the same toneless voice, her
arm falling to her side. "There's only one way out for us."
Patricia's eyes widened and she moved to stop her but was hit with a
sudden sharp pain in her head. No… this wasn't normal. She had to
stop it, she could sense it now!
"I'll see you soon, sister," Eden said, raising the pistol again, this time
under her chin.
Bang.
The pain faded and Patricia shakily righted herself and looked at…
Eden's body. She looked up at Nazar and Galia who stood over it.
They'd failed to stop her. "Fuck!" She growled, storming to them.
"Why didn't anyone stop her? Why was I the only one who saw it?!"
"I did see it!" Galia shouted back. "But I thought you'd handle it…"
her voice trailed off. "I… I was sure you'd handle it."
Patricia went cold as she got what Galia was getting at. She looked
around the room and all the soldiers echoed the same shock she
felt. "What happened?" The Commander demanded.
"I think," Patricia swallowed as she looked around the room. "I think
the Hive Commander forced Eden to kill herself. I felt some psionic
influence on her and the instant I did… well, I was in pain. I think it
also slowed down everyone else, delaying their reaction until it was
too late."
Well, this wasn't good. Not a bit. Ignoring the fact they were now
down one soldier, the possibility that it could happen to any of them
without them knowing was even worse. "We need to keep moving,"
she said, moving to the center of the room. "We need to be focused.
If we're focused, maybe-"
"Just… getting a closer look," he said in the same listless tone Eden
had used a couple minutes ago. She immediately starched out and
sensed the psionic manipulation at work.
"It's the Hive Commander!" She shouted as she ran towards him.
"On it!" Iosif yelled, running forward, his hand already holding the
laser pistol. He took a brief second to aim and fired a sustained
beam aimed downward. Another second later it cleanly sliced
through the arm, just above the elbow. Mordecai collapsed to the
ground, panting and whimpering in pain as Iosif knelt down beside
him and pulled out the med-kit.
"I just… I just felt like there was something I needed to see at the
end," he tried explaining to Patricia as she knelt down beside him.
"It's irrational, I know… but it seemed normal to me. It felt right ."
She looked up at the contraction that had pulled the rest of his arm
in. They needed to get out of this room now, otherwise someone else
was going to get hurt or die to the Hive Commander. And she was
becoming increasingly worried she couldn't stop it.
She could hear the scowl in his voice. "Hell yeah. Even if I couldn't,
you can't leave anyone alone in this place. Not while the Hive
Commander is alive."
He raised a good point. Which meant that breaking off into teams
was also a bad idea. The more divided they were, the easier it would
be for the Hive Commander to weaken them. Right now she didn't
know the extent of it's power, but it was enough that they needed to
focus on killing it as soon as possible.
"Stay with him," she ordered Iosif, who nodded and helped Mordecai
up.
"Keep moving," she shouted as she headed for the exit. "Everyone
stay focused. If you even think you're being influenced, say
something . Especially if you're sure you're not. Got it?"
"We'll return for Eden after the Hive Commander is dead," she
promised, looking at the corpse of the once-happy woman. She
raised her autorifle. "Let's head down the other hallway. Proceed
with caution."
You are a child. You wield power you cannot begin to comprehend.
Now Creed turned his head towards her, his helmet obscuring his
expression. "It's talking to me," she said, reaching down for her
pistol.
" This is for your eyes only, psion," the figure of Creed continued,
turning to face her fully. "Your species is weak, frail and easily
controlled. Even your powers can't change that, no matter what the
Elders see in you."
Patricia clenched her fists and sucked in her breath. "Get out of my
head," she growled, focusing on banishing the subtle psionic strands
that had insidiously been working on her. She heard and felt a sharp
pop and the figure of Creed vanished and she stumbled back and a
hand caught her shoulder.
"I guess that's good to know," Mordecai wheezed, still clearly in pain
from the loss of his arm. "So we clearly can't trust everything we
see."
They kept walking down and finally reached a fork in the hallways.
"Left or right?" Samuel asked, looking from side to side.
"Ah, nothing," he growled, the scowl clear in his voice. "Damn Hive
Commander playing tricks, I think. I saw a huge spider on the ceiling
and… well, overreacted."
"Think very carefully about what you see," Patricia stated, calming
herself down as she continued moving forward. "The next time you
might shoot at one of us."
She sincerely hoped not. They kept walking until Patricia spotted an
entrance in the hallway. "Hold," she ordered, raising a fist.
"Carmelita, James, go check that out."
Both of them took a position on each side of the entrance. Unlike the
others, this one was actually physically closed. There was no way
she could see to enter it, aside from using explosives or trying to cut
it with their-
The door opened with a groan and hiss as it lifted into the ceiling.
"That seemed to do it," Iosif said, stepping back in satisfaction,
though appeared initially disconcerted as he saw her looking at him
intently. "Is something wrong?"
"That sequence you pressed," she said slowly. "Why did you do it?"
He started. "What?"
"Nothing will happen for a few hours," she assured him. "But we
should probably finish up. Let's see what's in this room."
As they moved inside, she took a moment to focus on Iosif who was
now emotionally rattled. That was not good and she couldn't risk a
panic attack or something similarly debilitating right now. So instead
she simply pressed one emotion on him… calm .
She hoped that would be enough, but little time to make sure, and
she joined the rest of the soldiers in walking into the new room.
Nazar spoke for all of them once they saw what was inside. "Woah."
Above them steel catwalks ran above them, ladders at each corner
leading up. To her dismay, she saw three outsiders patrolling them
and they reacted instantly to them walking in. What also caught her
attention were two mechtoids hanging from the ceiling.
The outsiders knew that as well, since their initially volley of plasma
was only directed towards the soldiers who were taking cover behind
the desks. The sectoids at the rest of the interior desks were either
scrambling back or returning fire.
"Fakhr! Get the catwalk!" Patricia ordered. "Creed, Nazar, Afif! Pin
the outsiders in! Don't let them move!"
"We'll lock down the sectoids," Samuel called out as he and Galia
began moving around the room, targeting the outside sectoids and
keeping them in a little illusionary box. There was a groan that came
from the ceiling and those two mechtoids fell to the ground and
immediately began firing at them.
The outsiders had no cover, and were faced with the choice of
withstanding inaccurate gauss fire or jumping down and fighting on
the ground. "Symbiote out!" Lautaro called and he tossed one of the
symbiote grenades towards the outsiders. It didn't quite make it, but
the splatter as it exploded in mid-air was enough to trap their feet.
"Firing rocket!" Fakhr called and the explosive sped towards the
catwalk and hit with a brilliant explosion. The catwalk groaned and
parts of flaming steel fell to the ground, including one surviving
outsider which hit the ground with a loud crack.
"Move up!" Patricia ordered as some of them suppressed the
remaining eight sectoids while the rest charge into new positions.
Myra dutifully kept the attention of the mechtoids who
understandably focused on her. James executed a sectoid that didn't
manage to scramble away in time. Sarah also blew the eye out of
another while Maria and Alexei shredded the frail bodies of two
more.
Carmelita leapt over to the cracked outsider that was trying to get up.
It never got the chance once Carmelita blasted it's head, shattering it
into a thousand pieces. Patricia grinned, things were going well and
all that was left was-
Myra thrust her arm forward and the mechtoid in front of her was
engulfed in an acidic cloud and stumbled back, shrieking. Maria and
Samuel quickly tore it apart with concentrated fire and it collapsed to
the ground.
Myra then charged the remaining mechtoid, slammed into it and then
blasted it with her laser weapon as it stumbled back. Several shots
later it also collapsed to the ground, smoke and sparks rising from
the corpse, while Myra then scanned the rest of the room, looking for
additional threats.
Iosif killed the last sectoid and all went quiet. Patricia quickly
reloaded and looked around the room. Whatever the sectoid had
been trying to do, it appeared to have failed. "Area secure," she said.
"Everyone alright?"
They all answered with an affirmative and spread out into the room
to get a better look at everything. "See if anyone can get onto the
computers," she suggested as she looked around the room.
"What do you think they are?" Fakhr asked, walking up beside her.
" Elerium," Nartha answered "That's what powers all alien tech. Very
efficient and useful, but extremely volatile."
She jogged over to where Alexei was standing over a computer. "I
have no idea what it's saying," he said excitedly, pointing at the
purple holographic screen which was divided into tiles again, each
with alien markings on them. "But I think I'm inside!"
"It's not all like that," Patricia sighed, raising a hand to cut him off.
"But he's right. If that's how you got in, you're a psionic now."
"Count me too," Galia added quietly as she walked up. "I just got
onto another of the computers. Don't ask me how I knew."
They kept going down the hallway, and Patricia believed they were
heading in the right direction. The pulsing was much stronger now,
the hum clearly audible, and most telling, she could sense the Hive
Commander much better now.
It knew where they were. It knew they were coming. And it seemed
content to let them pass. She'd tried probing the mass of psionic
energy but had been laughably rebuffed from learning anything
meaningful, receiving sharp stabs of mental agony in return.
No… she now thought it was personal. Because she suspected that
the Ethereals had an idea of what they were capable of, and had
charged the sectoids to harness what they could from them. The
idea hadn't occurred to her immediately, but it made sense the more
she thought about it, and despite the Hive Commander's words and
her inability to learn anything tangible… she'd felt it's emotions
briefly.
Humans were still inferior psionically… but she knew it was only a
matter of time before she could become just as strong as the Hive
Commander. Armed with this knowledge, she considered how best
to use it. If nothing else it might distract the Hive Commander should
they need one, though she had to be careful not to underestimate it.
Because the Hive Commander was more powerful than her. She
couldn't beat it on her own.
And that tapped into a fear that had receded slightly, but was still
very much in the back of her mind. The Hive Commander had
demonstrated what it could do in that experimentation room… but
had otherwise held back after that. But why? Had it just been to
scare them? Or were they being unintentionally led into a trap.
That was only one of two possible scenarios she'd considered. The
other being that the Hive Commander wasn't quite as powerful as
they'd been led to believe. Everyone had limits, even powerful
psionic aliens. Maybe forcing Eden to kill herself or Mordecai to main
himself had taken more out of it than it anticipated.
But… then again, she'd felt the Hive Commander. She'd sensed no
fatigue or anything to indicate it was weakened in any way. So she
didn't know. It could be an illusion, or perhaps the Hive Commander
was simply holding back for reasons she couldn't comprehend.
"Two barriers on the left," Sarah noted, aiming her weapon at the
multicolored barrier. "Choke points if we're not careful."
Patricia observed the area briefly. The two entrances were big
enough for maybe two at a time to get through. It also looked like
Myra wouldn't fit unless the entrance was raised a few feet higher.
Hmm. The two entrances were spaced about twenty feet apart,
which made it possible that they were for different rooms.
"I've got one as well," Mordecai said, walking up. Holstering his
pistol, he pulled it out and tossed it to her which she caught and
smoothly placed on her own belt in one smooth motion.
"Good," she said, turning towards the doors. "Those might be two
different rooms. So we'll have two breaches. Creed, take Nazar,
Carmelita, Afif, Alexei and Maria to the far one. Everyone else with
me. Get into position and wait for my signal."
"Will do," Creed nodded and waved his group of soldiers over by the
other door.
"On my order, try cutting through the wall," Patricia ordered Myra
who walked up to the wall blocking the path into the room. The
towering MEC gave her a sharp nod and raised her laser cannon in
preparation.
"Fakhr, how many rockets do you have left?" Patricia asked, looking
back at the kneeling Palestinian.
Patricia wasn't quite sure what that was, but she could make some
pretty accurate guesses. Just based on the name she supposed it
was a more powerful AP grenade, which also meant it extremely
dangerous to them as well as the aliens. "Don't fire unless I give the
order," she stated, then looked over to where Creed was positioned.
"You in position, Creed?"
Patricia nodded and placed the fingertips of her left hand on the wall,
a tactile move that let her focus on the immediate vicinity of the next
room. She noted the sectoids immediately, there must have been at
least ten of them, but what stood out was that there were… others.
Other minds, alien even to what she'd sensed before now.
"There's something else in the room," she muttered in a trance,
wincing as she tried exploring it more. Instead she was assaulted
with a series of images that made no sense to her, emotions that
consisted of nothing more than confusion, pain and terror. Everything
seemed to be going at random speeds, emotions flipped within
seconds and there was no context to anything that she glimpsed
from these new minds.
It suddenly dawned on her why. Whatever was in the next room had
been driven insane.
"Go now!" She ordered and tapped the barrier which dissipated
within seconds.
"Going in!" James shouted and he and Sarah charged into the room.
Patricia immediately noted that the initial part of the room was similar
to the human experimentation room from earlier. There were the
experimentation pods on the right side of the room that extended to
the wall. In the middle of the room were also surgery tables, where
three sectoids were dissecting… something.
The hell? And there was also something in them. "Three running
back!" Samuel called as he unloaded at a group of sectoids in the far
back. Myra also cut her way into the room, though wasn't really
needed now. One sectoid was instantly killed by Samuel's barrage
and the other two scattered. Patricia fired at the one on the left and
shredded it, the bloodied corpse thrown to the ground from the force
of the rounds.
Pity that they'd been hunted down like the animals they were.
"I think that's the last of them," James said as he walked around one
of the glass modules. "Didn't really put up a fight."
"Good riddance," Fakhr muttered. "I almost don't want to know what
they were doing."
They saluted and the rest of the soldiers fanned out and Patricia
turned to one of the glass modules. The one that went throughout
the length of the left-most wall seemed to be a desert environment. It
was bright, filled with sand, rocks and a scant few trees and
vegetation. She almost missed the creature in the far corner.
Frowning, she walked over to that corner to get a better look.
It's eyes had irises like humans, but were a solid black and were
focused listlessly on nothing. Unlike the rest of it's body, there was
no fur on it's rounded face, and there were visible incisors in it's
mouth. After taking a closer look, Patricia saw that the fur color,
without all of the dirt and sand, seemed to be a pure white.
She was almost surprised that it hadn't died yet. It's fur was falling off
in great clumps and scratches marred it's skin and face and it looked
physically malnourished. "I don't know," Patricia finally said. "But I
know it doesn't belong there."
" Female Borelians have incisors and generally lighter fur," Nartha
explained. "Trust me, I can tell the differences between genders in
my own species, Galia."
Forgetting the fact that he was a spy for the aliens, Patricia was
intensely curious about this race. Perhaps she might even ask him,
under supervision, of course. But she gently reached out mentally
towards the Borelian to see if it-
" I see," his voice sounded heavier. "In that case you must leave her
in the cage. Make it more comfortable, but if you open it she will
attack you. Female Borelians are dangerously aggressive."
"I don't think we'd be opening them in the first place," Patricia
muttered. "But thanks. Galia, see what you can do to… well, make it
colder."
"Overseer, you should come see this," Iosif said, coming to her from
the back of the room. She nodded and followed him to the back of
the room where several rows of pods stacked five high were stored.
She walked over and looked inside one and grimaced. Humans. So
whatever they were doing here involved them as well.
"Over here."
On that cheery note she headed back up to the front of the room,
where the experimentation pods and dissection tables were. "Creed,
we've cleared this room. Status?"
" No, but this one is more interesting," he amended. "It's for
sectoids."
Now that the smoke and danger had cleared, she looked at what
was on one of the experimentation tables. The thing on the middle
table seemed to be another Borelian, though this one was much
smaller, and the fur that wasn't stained with blood seemed thinner. A
child? At least it was dead, and it looked like the sectoids had been
dissecting the throat for… well, she didn't really know or care.
"I suppose I thought the aliens had more consideration for their own
kind," James said as he looked into one of the experimentation pods.
Patricia walked over and looked down into it and winced. It was a
Borelian, but the eyes had been removed and replaced by… she
hated to say it, but it looked like human eyes.
"Apparently not," Patricia agreed softly. "Creed just said they found a
sectoid experimentation room."
" Like I said, sectoids don't think like we do," Nartha interjected.
"Almost every species recognizes the individual on some level.
Sectoids, with the exception of the Hive Commanders, don't. They
are viewed, and view themselves, as essentially little more than
living, intelligent tools. They exist for specific purposes and have no
emotion, desire or empathy for anything beyond what they've been
created for."
"In this case, the Hive Commander," Patricia finished. "Nartha… are
all the Hive Commanders like this?"
" Cruel? Yes, though I don't believe it is born out of malice. It's just…
who they are. I don't think it's their fault, they just aren't capable of
seeing others as anything more than fodder."
Patricia sucked in her breath and a quick mental sensing of the room
detected psionic influence not from her. "Get him away!" She
ordered, then sank to her knees as an unbearable wave of pain
stabbed into her mind.
But they were too late. The door to the module slid up and Lautaro
shook his head as quickly stepped back. "Oh no-"
Patricia gasped as his pain rippled through her. It then grabbed him
by his arms and chest and threw him across the room towards them.
Patricia ignored his scream and dodged the body and raised her
autorifle and unloaded a barrage of projectiles towards the insane
alien.
The combined power of Samuel, James and her was enough to stop
another charge, and with yellow blood dripping from multiple
wounds, the Borelian collapsed to the ground with a final growl,
dead.
"Iosif! Get over here," Patricia ordered as she rushed to Lautaro.
"We've got wounded!"
"I'm coming over to see what's there," Patricia said, looking around.
"I want to take a look before we move on." She looked towards
James. "Come with me. Iosif, fix him up and meet in the next room
when you're ready to move on. Everyone else hold this position until
you're ready to move out. Understood?"
"Yes, Overseer!" They affirmed and with James at her side, they
quickly walked over to the next experimentation room.
The experimentation room next door was set up much closer to the
human experimentation room than the Borelian one. As seemed to
be standard for the sectoids, there were experimentation pods and
dissection tables in the first part, upon which Patricia was not
surprised to see sectoid corpses resting upon them.
Although unlike all the rest of the test subjects, where the specimen
being experimented upon seemed to be an unmodified specimen,
these sectoids lying in the pods and on tables seemed to be
modified in some way. Some had larger arms, brains, an extra finger
or two, were taller. But none of them looked healthy or even
complete.
"Too quickly," Carmelita stated coldly as she walked up, her armor
splattered with fresh sectoid blood. "We should destroy this entire
wall."
But such was war, and she didn't feel any sympathy for a species
like this. If the rumors about Vahlen developing a virus to eradicate
them were true, then she would face little opposition after what
they'd seen here.
She followed him towards the back of the room, glancing briefly at
the tables, some of which now had human corpses on them. At the
back of the room was a large computer-like object, and off to the
sides were some kinds of stasis pods.
"It appears the aliens are very interested in us," Maria commented,
as she stood in front of the left-most stasis pod. Patricia walked over
and looked inside. Within the green gel, a sectoid was suspended
inside. But it wasn't like the other little gray ones, this one was a little
taller, the muscles more pronounced.
They were gradually becoming more and more human. The last
stasis pod sectoid now even had the beginnings of a mouth.
Interesting. So much for a supposedly weak species, she thought
wryly. So… the Hive Commander had lied, which shouldn't exactly
be a surprise. But it was disturbing how much they'd been able to
modify the sectoid just using human genetics.
"So what is it?" Patricia asked. "Or rather, what is it supposed to be?
A soldier?"
"In case mistakes were made," Alexei guessed, walking up. "Aside
from that, they probably have to be careful of other factors."
Alexei sighed. "I don't know. How the hell am I supposed to get
inside the twisted mind of the aliens that came up with this, hmm?"
Patricia smiled. Well, that explained why the alien tech always did
what they wanted to. It was sensitive to what they really wanted, be it
unlocking doors or turning off power. Now that she had the map, she
knew exactly where they had to go to reach the central command.
Patricia closed her eyes and felt for the Hive Commander, who
projected calm, control and anticipation. "It hasn't left," she said
slowly. "It's still there, and it knows we are coming."
Patricia checked to make sure her weapon was fully loaded. "We
don't," she agreed. "But we're going to be very careful. Even the
Hive Commander has limits, and we outnumber it."
"Remember you have limits too," Creed warned. "And I doubt it will
be just the Hive Commander."
"Probably not," Patricia agreed. "But the longer we wait, the more
dangerous it becomes," now addressing the entire team, she began
walking towards the exit. "Everyone converge in the hall; it's time to
finish off the Hive Commander."
The map had been correct, judging from the widening hallway and
increased pulses and most telling, the presence of the Hive
Commander becoming for stronger for her. Another interesting sign
was that the alloy walls had suddenly been replaced with transparent
barriers, allowing them to see inside the inner working of the base.
There were nearly a dozen large pipes running along the walls,
some transparent, some not. Probably circulating or transporting
water, air or whatever the aliens used to power this base. Though
she didn't fail to note the flesh-like substance also in one of the
pipes. She'd considered asking Nartha if he knew what that was, but
at this point, didn't really want to know.
"And there it is," Alexei said as the multicolored barrier came into
view. Oddly enough the ceiling had also risen the further they'd got,
so the height of this barrier was probably twenty-five feet tall or
more. The width was probably more like fifteen, but more than
enough for them to enter.
Patricia knew leaving him behind was a bad idea, not until the Hive
Commander was dealt with, so she'd had Creed carry him all this
way, admittedly not an easy task since even a small man in full
armor was a ton. Not to mention Lautaro wasn't exactly small. But
Creed was the strongest here, so she'd had him carry him until they
arrived at the central command.
"Set him down close to the entrance," she ordered as the rest of the
soldiers began getting into position by the barrier. "The Hive
Commander should be too distracted or focused on me to try and
influence him."
"I can stay with him, if you want," Mordecai suggested, walking up.
"I'm not sure how much help I'll be like, well, this." He moved the
stump of his arm for emphasis. Patricia doubted that this was being
influenced by the Hive Commander, but she had to be sure. She
quickly sensed Mordecai's mind for any traces of psionic influence
and found none.
"Do it," she agreed with a nod. "Keep aware. We'll make sure the
Hive Commander is busy, but there may be other aliens still here."
He gave a firm nod and she imagined him smiling under that helmet.
He raised the hand holding the pistol. "That's what I have this for,
yes? Don't worry about me, kill the Hive Commander. We'll be fine."
Creed set down Lautaro gently and rose back to her side. "Then
good luck," she told Mordecai. "We'll finish up now."
He saluted and she returned it. With that done, she turned around
and they walked towards the massive barrier where the rest of the
soldiers were set up outside it. Samuel and Maria were set up at the
corners as usual and Myra was at the front, ready to take the brunt
of the attack if the aliens were waiting for them.
Fakhr had taken a knee and her rocket launcher was at the ready
while James and Carmelita were close by the two gunners ready to
charge in on command. Patricia walked up beside Myra and closed
her eyes once more. But this time it seemed the Hive Commander
knew what she was trying to do, because she couldn't sense
anything else beyond it.
"It's blocking me," she said grimly, opening her eyes and picking up
her autorifle again. "We'll be going in blind. Be ready."
"How did we ever operate before we had soldiers who could just
sense everything in the room?" Alexei commented dryly, and all of
them lightly chuckled at that, even Patricia smirked.
The barrier receded instantly and they got their first look into the
central command of the alien base. What immediately became
apparent was that the entire room was open, at least in the sense
that there was no alloy roof over them like the majority of the base.
The cave simply stretched up beyond what Patricia could see.
This was probably the largest room yet, both sides had ramps
leading up to an elevated walkway, which also had four stations each
devoted to one specific computer, and each also getting a ramp
extended to them. The middle of the room was a little different. The
middle square was a small depression in the room, with the frame of
the normal walkway containing ramps down into the depression.
"Maria, Sarah, Iosif, take the left side," she ordered, advancing
slowly. "James, Nazar, Samuel, take the right."
All six soldiers nodded and rushed off that direction. Oddly enough,
she couldn't see or sense any additional enemies other than the
Hive Commander who felt dead ahead. "Fakhr, Afif, go up on the
platform. Everyone else with me!"
With that said, Patricia began leading the remaining soldiers and
MEC down into the depression and up it again. Upon walking up the
ramp to the other side, she saw the final elevated platform, a ramp
directly in front of them leading up to it. The platform had a small
alloy barrier around the perimeter, but she could see what was on
this platform.
" We're in position," Patricia looked to the left to see Sarah in front of
an alloy barrier, ready to fire with Maria behind her and Iosif behind
them bother. A quickly look to the right confirmed that James, Nazar
and Samuel had set up in a similar way. Carmelita and Galia both
dashed to the walls right before the ramp. Alexei, Creed and Myra
stood by her as all of them focused on the one lone target.
The Hive Commander stood in front of the object, it's back turned to
them. It was larger than the other sectoids, though not as much as
she would have thought. It's muscles seemed more defined, not
malnourished as the other sectoids looked. Also contrary to the
lesser sectoids, this one stood up straight, without a hunch like the
others.
The two major differences were the skin, which was a ruddy orange
that seemed to pulse every few seconds, and the cranium which was
much larger and the skin around it was a much lighter color, almost
transparent.
"You hear what I allow you to," it continued, and Patricia suddenly
realized that the voice was coming inside her own head. She didn't
quite panic, since this was clearly just a projection or communication.
A form of telepathy, she supposed, but it was still disconcerting. "All
of this I allowed. You could have been stopped before, but I allowed
you to continue."
Ok, she'd bite. "Why?" Patricia demanded. "Was it just to show off
your horrific experiments to us?"
The last sentence was filled with such venom in it's voice and
emotions Patricia actually winced. Creed stepped forward. "You
didn't answer her question," he stated. "Why did you let us get this
far?"
"For the only thing worth doing," it answered, swiveling it's head
around the room. "Gathering information . Thanks to your supposed
attack, this data on your skills, powers and tactics can be used for
when XCOM foolishly tries to attack again. Everyone here is
expendable and can be replaced," it's head turned down to look
directly at her. "Including your soldiers."
It was worrying just how certain it sounded. Even in the event this
attack failed, she would have figured they'd done enough damage to
push back whatever they were doing… though if the Hive
Commander was to be believed, they barely done more than annoy
it.
The Hive Commander simply raised its hands and was enveloped by
a shimmering purple shield which negated all of the rounds that hit it.
Laser beams were simply reflected away. "You are surrounded by
traitors, Maria," it growled, extending a hand towards her, clutching it
into a fist. " Open your eyes!"
Maria shook her head. "Yes," she said, oddly calm. "Everything's
fine."
She yelped in surprise as Creed barely missed slicing her arm open.
Only a quick jump back saved her initially and she immediately
focused on a now dangerous Creed. "Stop!" She ordered as he
approached, brandishing his knife.
"Take care of him!" Carmelita yelled. "I'll deal with the Commander!"
Patricia didn't have time to see what she did, backing away quickly
as Creed kept advancing. "It's me! Patricia!" She pleaded as he leapt
towards her. She wasn't going to shoot him, she couldn't do that. But
she needed to subdue him quickly, otherwise he would kill her. Myra,
Alexei and Galia were trying to focus on the Hive Commander.
"I won't let you hurt us again," Creed growled at her. " Never again."
She didn't know what he was talking about, but he was clearly not
going to listen to reason. She focused in on his mind, ignoring the
rush of odd images and controlled, calm rage. The Hive
Commander's influence was trapping those images and feelings at
the forefront and had she time, she might have been able to remove
them.
She knew his mind more than most, so that made it easier to push
one command. Sleep .
Creed shuddered in front of her and fell to the ground a few seconds
later. One problem out of the way, she turned to see Carmelita
blasting away at the Hive Commander who still had the psionic
shield up.
She heard a shriek and looked over in horror as Maria unloaded her
clip into the back of Sarah who was thrown off the edge from the
force. "Traitors!" She yelled as she swung towards Iosif behind her.
"What have you done with them?!"
"Subdue him!" Patricia called as she threw her weapon down. She
needed to psionically counterattack if they were going to win.
Weapons weren't helping. "If that's not possible… defend yourself."
"I'm going to help Iosif!" Galia called out as she rushed towards the
left side of the room. "Suppressing!"
Maria was caught between two bursts of gauss fire, forcing her to
stick to cover for the moment. Alexei took some shots at the Hive
Commander who just looked down in disgust and motioned two him.
Alexei screamed and sank to his knees, clutching his head.
Patricia immediately focused on him, trying everything she could to
block the psionic influence from taking hold of him, which resulted in
her feeling like her eyes were being gouged out and shouted in pain
along with him. But it only lasted a few seconds and she'd
successfully stopped it from taking his mind.
The pain fueling her focus, she became laser-focused on the Hive
Commander in front of her. Arm encircled in a faint purple sheath,
she reached out to the alien, fighting the barriers in it's mind. All she
needed was one opening, one brief crack to get inside.
"Distract it!" She called, the sounds of the world becoming faint.
"Break it!"
That finally forced the Hive Commander to move to the side to avoid
the scorching flames. Yet it's mind held strong and became even
more focused as it prepared another attack. "Stay back!" Iosif called.
"I don't want to shoot you!"
"I'm sorry," Galia said, the pain evident in her voice. But it didn't stop
her from firing a clip of gauss rounds into Maria's back, forcing her to
the ground. Yet she still tried getting up, reaching for her pistol and
kept firing. Now Iosif stood, aimed his rifle at her head and fired,
ensuring Maria would never rise again.
" Afif! Stop!" Patricia looked above her to hear a terrified shout along
with a rant in Chinese and watched, horrified as Afif inexplicably
leapt off the platform. He dove headfirst and none of them were in
any position to try and catch him. The gauss fire drowned out the
sound of his neck snapping, but Patricia could imagine it very clearly
as he slammed into the ground, the impact nearly leaving his head at
a horizontal angle.
"You cannot fight if you cannot see!" The Hive Commander declared
as it enveloped itself in purple energy and thrust it's hands towards
the trio on the right. The fire towards the Hive Commander halted
and then stopped.
" Overseer, it did something," James informed, his voice calmer that
she'd expected. "I can't see anything."
"No!" She heard it growl, it's accent fading again. "We will never be
replaced."
It was working, if she could just unsettle it a little more. But she
needed to wrap up before all of them were rendered ineffective.
"Fakhr! Shredder!"
As she gave the order she pressed again. Then why do the
Ethereals have you working on us? A weak species would not
warrant their attention. Humanity is superior to you; we are better,
faster, and stronger. And that is before our psionic-"
"You are a child!" The Hive Commander screamed, the arura around
him flashing. With one extension of his arm and without breaking eye
contact with her, Myra was blow backwards across the room,
slamming into the wall. "You know nothing of this Gift! You are
incapable of comprehending, psion! Know that before you are
trapped in your mind forever!"
Patricia screamed as the Hive Commander broke into her mind,
overpowering her attempts of resistance easily, shifting through her
thoughts and memories. You are nothing . No! She was ! She was !
You are not. You never have been. You never will be.
It took every ounce of will to prevent her from just accepting that
indisputable fact. Because it was indisputable, deep down she knew
that. Why was she protesting such an obvious truth? It would be so
easy to just accept it, so easy to just accept that it knew far more
than she could ever…
And everything weakened ever so slightly, and then she knew it was
a lie.
" Get out of my head!" She shouted, thrusting her arms out, not
realizing that the expulsion of energy emanated from her. And now
she was angry, she watched the rocket fly down and slam into where
the Hive Commander was. It raised it's hands to create another
shield but she intervened, forcing all her will on one word.
" Delay," she growled, and the hand faltered, the shield flickered and
that was all it took for the last bursts of shrapnel to break through.
The Hive Commander squealed as it's legs and body were impaled
with hot metal, the concussive blast throwing it across the room.
Patricia again focused all her anger, rage and power on the wounded
Hive Commander. She saw it trying to crawl away, keeping itself still
mentally strong while she stormed towards the tiny creature.
" Open," she ordered, grabbing the thing by the arm and slamming a
boot down on it. The Hive Commander squealed as the limb broke
like a twig and for just a second, the barrier weakened and Patricia
broke into the mind.
The images of sectoids, aliens, tech she never knew existed, words
and documents in languages she couldn't even begin to
comprehend, all of it was centered in one central location. All floating
around in a dome with a glowing purple ball in the center.
She found herself inside and raised a hand, willing it all to stop and
everything ceased. Time froze and it's mind was fully under her
control. It's sensation of time had stopped and with that assured, he
briefly allowed herself to return to her physical body and looked
down at the twitching Hive Commander, leaking golden blood from
its torso and legs.
"… Overseer?"
" You were lucky," Nartha interjected. "If it wasn't for Fakhr, all of you
would have died."
"Are you crazy ?" Patricia demanded, eyes wide. " You want to
capture this thing? After what you saw it do?"
Patricia took a breath. "If there is no way to block psionics, then yes,
it's far too risky. Maybe if I guarded it constantly, and even then it's
not a good idea. Otherwise it's just going to get people killed. Please,
you all saw what it can do and I've felt it's intentions. Bringing it to
the Citadel would be disastrous."
She let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Commander. Before it dies…
I want to see what I can get from it."
She nodded and looked down at the twitching body of the Hive
Commander and pulled off her helmet. "What are you doing?"
Carmelita asked as Patricia let her helmet fall to the floor.
Patricia curled her lips up, into what looked like a smile but what was
just masking the building fury inside her again. She looked down to
her right hand, flexing the fingers as she gathered the power, a
shimmering manifestation cloaking her arm. Creed, Maria, Alexei,
Eden, Afif, this alien had fucked with all their minds and gotten some
of them killed.
Now it was time for the Hive Commander to experience the same
thing.
Patricia slowly knelt on the ground in front of the alien, and resumed
direct control over the Hive Commander's mind. "Get comfortable,"
she whispered softly to the alien before the physical world faded
away. "Your nightmare is just starting."
After-Action Report
Personnel:
Status: Active
Kills: 8
Status: Active
Kills: 12
Kills: 8
Status: Active
Kills: 6
Status: Active
Kills: 6
Status: Deceased
Kills: 5
Status: Deceased
Kills: 4
Status: Active
Kills: 7
Kills: 4
Thunder 10: Specialist Eden Rayna
Status: Deceased
Kills: 2
Status: Active
Kills: 5
Status: Active
Kills: 7
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Deceased
Kills: 7
Kills: 10
Abby had no other word for it. Half the stuff she'd been editing had
been literal fluff pieces with no substance whatsoever and the rest
had been sensationalized stories with questionable sources. If she'd
actually been concerned about doing a good job, she would have
had some words with the original author writing this.
Nathan Rutherfield, one of the most efficient writers for this particular
station. By efficient, she meant sloppy and fast . He apparently
thought her job as editor was do my job for me based on the
inordinate amount of grammatical and spelling errors. But he was
always the first to report any major political event or speech, mostly
because he had quite a few sources, and while that was suspicious
in it of itself, it wasn't enough to consider him a suspect.
No, what made her suspicious was that every story always fit a very
specific agenda. His work was mostly dealing with the election as of
late, and it seemed that every piece written was slamming anyone
who wasn't Kamili Rono. To be fair, he hadn't written anything
painting her in a positive light, per-se, but whenever she appeared, it
was either completely factual (a rarity) or extremely short.
She hoped that he didn't mind that she'd kept a document of every
inaccuracy he'd reported in one convenient place. It might be useful
if she found actual evidence. If EXALT actually was backing a
candidate, this would probably be a way they did it. Kamili was an
interesting choice though, she'd have expected either Malik or
Harian.
She pursed her lips and kept typing, mindlessly on autopilot. At least
this work didn't require that much effort. Her second suspect she was
considering removing altogether. Branch President Thomas
Mayberry. If EXALT had wanted the most influence over this station,
he would be in the best position to do so. The thing was, his duties
were more administration than the day-to-day rush of news.
But she couldn't eliminate him from contention unless she found
reasonable proof one of her other two suspects was the plant. But
she wasn't focusing much on him anymore. Her final suspect was
Amy Cario, Chief Editor, and her direct boss. Every story she'd done
had been approved by her before publication and she had final say
about what was being written.
She was an interesting case, because she had several times had her
go back and edit some of Nathan's more… inflammatory headlines
into something more neutral. Abby had complied, though she wasn't
sure if she was being directed to do so because Amy was a good
editor or because that wasn't the candidate EXALT wanted.
Another thing that had raised suspicion was that almost all news of
the alien invasion, and XCOM specifically, was either reduced or
rewritten entirely to be either neutral at best, or questioning at worst.
Impartiality was good, but since Abby had been very careful to keep
things as neutral as possible whenever XCOM had appeared, it
seemed a little suspicious. Especially since EXALT wanted XCOM
out of the picture.
For now.
She finished the paper and forwarded it to Amy for approval. Her job
for the day done, she stood and walked out of her little cubical
towards the break room, which really just consisted or an open area
with couches, TVs, a water cooler and pretty much all the
stereotypical break room stuff.
Jochern was waiting on time, as usual. He'd mostly been moving
around the office, chatting people up. He agreed with her that the
suspects fit well, and had promised to see what he could find. He
smiled as she walked up. "Another exciting day?"
She'd made her complaints known to him before, so she just glared
at him in return. "Fine, fine," he chuckled under his breath. "Maybe
this will make it better." He raised a flash drive.
"How did you possibly learn that?" She demanded breathlessly. This
could be just what she was looking for.
"I had a friend call him over for something, since he is a very smart
and intelligent man," Jochern said, clearly amused. "And while he
was sharing his, ah, expertise, I went over to his computer and
checked his email. I saw some interesting stuff, and copied the rest
to the flash drive. Rather easy, truth be told."
"Christine?"
She turned around as her cover name was called to see Amy
walking up. "Yes?" she asked, keeping as calm as possible.
Amy nodded and Abby followed her to her office which was just
down the hall. "Did you read what I sent that fast?" Abby asked. "I
know its short but-"
"Oh, I'm sure it's fine," Amy dismissed with a wave of her hand.
"Most of your work is pretty good, in fact. No, I'm talking about your
XCOM piece."
Abby frowned. "But he didn't. His exact words were, 'XCOM has just
completed an operation in Chinese territory against the organization
EXALT, which we have confirmed to be working with-'"
"You have to read between the lines sometimes, Christine," Amy said
wearily. "That quote was too long anyway. Maybe 'XCOM performs
unsanctioned operation in Chinese territory" would be better. And
include something of the Chinese reaction."
Abby crossed her arms. "You do realize I just edited this, right?
Besides, I know China hasn't given a statement one way or another.
Anything I'd add would just be speculation."
"What, and you think the Chinese aren't angry?" Amy asked
sarcastically. "Just keep it vague and it'll be fine. But we have to be
neutral here, we can't really be favoring XCOM."
Amy let out another sigh. "I know it's more difficult, especially now,
but we can't slack off. We still have no proof that this 'EXALT' is
actually real or just something XCOM is using to justify their actions."
Abby's eyes widened. "Really? Have you watched the news over the
past few hours? XCOM has released quite a bit of evidence."
She almost stormed out of the room back to Jochern whose smile
faltered as he saw her deliberately tight expression. "Is, ah, there a
problem?"
"Maybe," she muttered grabbing his arm and leading him out. "I'm
seriously wondering if EXALT has more than one agent, since I'm
pretty much convinced those two are plants for something. I'll tell you
in the car."
With that both of them exited the studio, Abby trying to figure out the
best path forward.
France
"[What did you tell them?]" Annette asked quietly as she looked
nervously out the window as they drove through the countryside.
Annette nodded. Still, she was nervous now that they were actually
going through with this. Latrell felt nervous, and she echoed that
feeling. In the end they'd decided that Germany was the closest
country directly tied to XCOM, so they were going to Berlin to see if
they could help. Customs wouldn't be a problem since she could just
force the guard to let them through.
It would have been much simpler, had Germany not closed itself off.
Though they hadn't technically withdrawn from the EU, they might as
well have. They'd completely secured their borders and were only
letting very specific people inside, and had she not possessed the
power to control people, they would likely not be among that crowd.
"[I wonder if we're being tricked,]" Latrell finally said after a few
minutes. "[We waited a few days before leaving, they didn't try and
take you, and my stuff is supposedly untouched.]"
She wanted to believe that EXALT had decided to get on with more
important things, but she honestly didn't believe that for one second.
That had been in the front of her mind ever since she'd fallen into an
uneasy sleep with him in his bed. What were they waiting for?
With any luck, they'd done more than that. Annette had actually
almost been giddy as she'd watched the press conference. As
XCOM had systematically released evidence of what horrific things
EXALT had done, she'd felt a sense of vindication and fury that had
laid dormant in her for a long time.
She had no doubt EXALT likely thought they were doing themselves
and humanity a great service, but nothing could justify what she'd
seen and experienced. "[How quickly could you sense if they're
EXALT agents or not?]" Latrell asked, snapping her out of her
reminiscing.
"[So you sense and I'll talk,]" Latrell nodded. "[Hopefully they'll be
reasonable.]"
Latrell winced. "[That's such an odd thought. It's hard to imagine you
hurting anyone; you were the one who got angry when I suggested
that you arm yourself.]"
Annette leaned back in her seat, pursing her lips. "[Well, consider
yourself vindicated. I'm not quite as naïve as I was a few months
ago.]"
"[I'd hoped you would come around,]" he said softly. "[But not like
this.]"
"[Don't even think about going down that road,]" she chastised,
sensing some more guilt. "[None of this is your fault. I was an overly
idealistic woman, and I've gotten over that rather vividly. People like
EXALT deserve whatever's coming to them, and this time I'll be
ready to make them pay.]"
"[Mhmm,]"
Annette frowned and that was when she noticed it. "[The back
seems lower,]"
He scowled. "[We might need to stop and fix it if it's a flat tire.
Otherwise we won't make it beyond the border.]"
"[Damn it,]" Latrell swore as he came around and looked at the tire. "
[Why today of all days?]"
"[Let's just fix it,]" Annette insisted, looking around nervously. "[I don't
like this.]"
"[Ok,]" she said and walked to the trunk and opened it and looked
inside. She was thankful he was so organized, since it made her job
much easier to actually find what she was looking for without sifting
through junk. The spare was there, a heavy jacket and a toolbox.
She reached over and pulled it towards her.
Opening it, she sifted through the tools. Ah, there was the wrench
and there were the sockets-
She gritted her teeth and drew upon the power, turning the pain of
her melting flesh into strength to amplify the effect. Purple energy
running up her arms and body, she turned around in every direction,
still sensing nothing. "Come out!" She roared. "Finish this!"
A sharp pain in her neck made her stumble and she reached up and
pulled out a small dart. Tranquilizers, of course. She smashed the
dart in her hand, ignoring the pain. That wouldn't work on her. "Try
again!" She yelled, charging in the direction she'd been shot.
"Ugh," she groaned as two more darts pierced her chest in quick
succession. In desperation she thrust her arm forward, projecting a
wave of energy towards the distance. All she got in return was
another dart to the shoulder.
A wave of fatigue washed over her and she sank to her knees, trying
to fight the encroaching darkness but failing. "Not again," she
whispered as she struggled to stand up. "Not agaiaaaaa…"
Elizabeth had all her agents and plants working overtime to distort or
mute the supposed 'evidence' XCOM had presented to the world.
She was somewhat impressed just how convincing that footage was,
if she hadn't known better, she'd have assumed it was real and
regardless of that, it was now attracting the attention of powerful
governments which was going to open up a new host of problems.
"Good point," Ethan muttered. "Did everyone say they'd make it?"
"I guess the Russian side is making their moves," Ethan noted,
pursing his lips. "Let's hope it doesn't escalate."
"It won't," she promised. "I've made it quite sure there that I will make
an executive decision if they couldn't come to a compromise." They
walked into the main control room and headed up to Elizabeth's
office overlooking it, since that's where she wanted to hold the
meeting.
The doors hissed open and they both walked into the room.
Elizabeth was in a deep conversation with Zara and Darian. Matthew
and Hasina were also in a conversation as well. All of them paused
and she motioned for them to continue until Yakov showed up.
Matthew broke off and walked over to her.
"True," he said, keeping his tone light. "Though not all is bad.
Operations are still proceeding well in North America, and the United
States is playing into our hands."
"Excellent," she said, not really able to muster up much enthusiasm.
It was bizarre; just a few months ago she'd have been thrilled at the
possibility of influencing the United States directly, but as it stood
now, she was wondering if that election was even going to happen .
Placating at its worst. Did he really think things were going to ' quiet
down' for any of them?
"And probably not told you either," she added wryly. Oddly enough
she hadn't been concerned about his safety in the least. She'd never
really worried about him for some reason, even though his age
should have given her plenty of cause. He'd assured her that she
could take care of himself, no matter what and until she witnessed
otherwise, she had no cause to dispute that.
The door hissed open and Yakov strode in. Yep, definitely a Russian,
and a young one at that. Probably no older than forty, with short
black hair and a chiseled face. From what she knew of him, he'd
overseen intelligence operations in the Russian region and worked
very closely with Elizabeth over the years. What was also of interest
was that he had always supported aggressive research into
advanced weapons.
With that all of them gathered around the holotable, just deciding to
stand since there really wasn't time to waste. "This is Yakov
Mercado, representing them for today," Saudia introduced, resting
her hands on the holotable. "It also seems there's been some recent
developments we're not aware of."
On the right side of the table, Yakov inclined his head. "A privilege to
be here, but down to business. Elizabeth, may I?"
"That, and XCOM might have not played nice with them," Ethan
added grimly. "I have a feeling this was a long time coming, and this
provided the excuse needed to drop out."
"I tend to agree," Yakov nodded. "By all accounts, XCOM has not
exactly been… well, respectful to China."
"Taiwan?" Hasina asked skeptically. "I doubt it. That would a blatant
political move, nothing more. XCOM would have to get something
substantial out of it."
"Russia supports XCOM," Yakov shook his head. "We suspect they
also have an unofficial alliance directly with the country as well,
judging by XCOM's alliances with neighboring countries. Possibly
proxies to support an ally without the appearance of favoritism."
Saudia considered the map for a minute. "I have a feeling that China
might have acted too rashly in this case. They're relying on XCOM
backing down and continuing on without them, or hoping that their
withdrawal will lead to the ultimate dissolution of them and they can
take their place."
The soldier prototype was clad in some of the bulkiest armor Saudia
had ever seen. The chest piece, legs and arms were completely
covered by armor and the left shoulder guard displaying the Russian
flag was at least twice as big as the opposing shoulder. Several
insulated wires also ran up the arms to attach in the upper neck
before disappearing into the armor itself. Oddly enough, they
seemed to have taken some inspiration from the North Korean
soldiers she'd seen, since this helmet looked like a slight
modification of that, though more angular and armored.
"They call this the опекун," Yakov continued. "' Guardian' if you want
the literal translation. Though I personally think ' Shield,' would be
more fitting considering what it can do."
"That's what the armor itself is for," Elizabeth clarified. "It's not a
kinetic shield, and from what I've read, it might last for only one shot.
Seems to work well against lasers though."
"Ah, yes," Darian ran a hand through his hair. "Well, the plan's gone
completely to hell since Brazil collapsed and since it looks like the
military is going to assume control, I'm directing my agents to focus
on that. But the short version is that we are not going to have the
control we hoped over them."
When put like that, it was. "That was a risk," Saudia admitted. "But a
calculated one, and it didn't work out this time. We will need to do
better."
"Yeah, and I'm curious just what you think will work," Zara continued
hotly, motioning around the table. "Tell me, Director, what is going to
be the silver bullet that shuts down XCOM? Because it seems like no
matter whatever, they somehow come out ahead."
"I'll answer your question now," Ethan broke in, stepping forward.
"Director?"
"We know who the Commander of XCOM is," he said, and everyone
around the room looked at him with new interest. "He led the assault
on the Mercado Estate and contacted the Bastion afterwards."
"Why hold onto this, even if only for a day?" Elizabeth demanded,
glaring at him. "You know how long we've been trying to figure that
question out?"
"Exactly," Ethan said. "Trust me, it couldn't have been anyone else."
"And I'll show the conversation itself," Saudia assured them. "But we
need to decide what we're going to do about it."
"It would just be denied," Ethan interrupted, shaking his head. "I
know him, and from that conversation he hasn't changed much. I'm
certain he has a plan in case his actual identity was ever revealed.
Aside from that, we have no legitimate way to prove it."
"So we're up against the man who essentially brought down the
Caliphate," Zara muttered. "Well, what did he have to say?"
"That has to be a lie," Yakov stated with a frown. "A trick to lure us
into complacency."
"I'm pretty certain the only reason he suggested it was because he
assumed that we wouldn't take it," Ethan said. "However… he would
honor it if we did so."
"The only reason we're fighting XCOM now is because of the aliens,"
Hasina reminded them. "Which should be reevaluated now. If the
aliens are playing us, we should back out as soon as possible. Our
alliance was never supposed to last long anyway."
"I would like to point out that once more that we're faced with a
decision where only XCOM benefits," Darian pointed out with
resigned amusement. "Let's say we make a truce with XCOM and
end it with the aliens, then they go to war with us, diverting attention
from them. We stay and XCOM keeps fighting us, and the longer this
goes one, the harder it is for us. Secrecy was always our greatest
weapon, and XCOM has continuously reduced it. I don't foresee this
going well for us if it continues."
She took a breath. "I no longer think continuing a war with XCOM is
viable at this point, at least not openly. We need to be out of the
public eye right now. However, I don't necessarily think we need to
immediately break our alliance with the aliens. We need time to
prepare. So we humor them for now, give them some useless
information, or at worst lie about our efforts. But we should not break
it off until we are ready."
"No, it won't on its own," Ethan clarified. "But I could assure him we'd
adhere to something of a truce. He'll be more likely to believe it
coming from me. But we'd have to follow through on it. He won't
accept anything less."
"So that's the question then," Elizabeth said. "Is that what we're
doing? Play nice with XCOM and the aliens for now until things quiet
down? What happens after?"
"So that's settled for now," Yakov said with a nod. "But regarding the
Commander's identity… who should know about this? It shouldn't be
common knowledge."
"Why not?" Ethan argued. "The men and women who fought with
him, they deserve to know he's alive."
"And that is a problem," Elizabeth noted. "You may be loyal to us, but
not everyone may share it."
"They will," Ethan assured her. "I can promise that. We've moved on,
we have lives here now. But this is one thing they need to know."
"I'd question need," Matthew said slowly. "But I won't deny they have
a right to it. So I suppose the question is if you'd bet their lives on it?"
"In the event that they hear this news and decide to leave," Matthew
said slowly. "They will be traitors and executed. You will be the one
to do so if that happens. I consider that fair, do you?"
"I do," Ethan agreed with a firm nod. "But that won't happen."
"You should hope not," Zara agreed. "But I don't want this spread
widely. Take your soldiers aside if you wish, but tell them to keep it to
themselves."
"In fact there is," Elizabeth said, relief in her voice. "Some good
news. We've reacquired Subject Four along with her boyfriend. Both
are being sedated and moved to a secure location."
"I thought you were going to wait," Darian said, scratching his chin.
"Some kind of method for infiltrating XCOM."
"Then let's get back to it," Saudia nodded, one firm nod of finality.
"We have much to do."
"True," Ethan agreed. "I'll ask the Commander, provided he'll actually
share that."
" Director, we're approaching the Bastion now," their pilot informed
them. "Prepare for landing."
"We'll sort it out once we land," Saudia said, though inside she was
now questioning that herself. Her hand unconsciously went down to
her hip where her laser pistol was.
" Coming in for a landing," the pilot informed. "Director, a UFO has
landed just outside the entrance."
The hangar was deserted and sure enough, a UFO was landed just
outside the entrance, conveniently off to the side to allow them to
land safely. This one was different though, it was smaller and the
gray metal was darker than the previous UFOs. She pursed her lips.
It was bad enough when the Speaker had the audacity to simply
announce he was coming; now he did it without even checking with
them first.
Not this time. EXALT had been too soft on the alien's demands.
Sure, they'd provided them with advanced tech, but that didn't give
them the authority to walk all over them, which had gone on long
enough.
"Let's see what's going on," Ethan said, coming up behind her. He'd
grabbed his laser rifle and with a nod they both entered the Bastion.
Almost immediately they saw the four guards lying on the ground.
Saudia sucked in her breath and dashed over towards them, and
that's when she realized that they weren't dead as she'd feared. She
felt chills run through her as she heard their subdued moans and
gasps of agony. She rolled one of them over and realized that they
were all unconscious as well, but clearly in some kind of pain. Dried
tears were on some of their cheeks which disconcerted her most of
all.
EXALT soldiers, and especially those at the Bastion were the
toughest soldiers imaginable. They could have their arm blow off and
only grit their teeth in response. These soldiers appeared untouched,
yet had been reduced to tears and unconsciousness by… what? A
drug?
She swung her head towards him incredulously. "And how long did it
take you to come up with that? No, it's not right ."
His eyes widened suddenly. "Do you think they've taken the whole
base…?"
"I'll sound the alarm if he is," Ethan growled. "And if he's safe, I'm
coming right back to you."
"Do that," she nodded, focusing ahead. "They probably went to the
Control Room, but knowing them they'll probably come to me."
Saudia nodded and strode over to the elevator and hit the button
taking her to the main floor. While she rode it, she tried conceiving of
what could have possibly happened. The group of soldiers she'd
seen had seemingly been relatively unharmed, at least on the
outside, so that severely limited the explanations.
Except… she tensed as a new explanation wormed its way into her
mind. Psionics. They knew Subject Four could utilize some form of
mind control, which was how she'd managed to escape in the first
place. And that was an untrained, scared girl who'd just wanted to
get out. Who knows what an actual trained psionic could do, it might
be enough to cause the effects she'd seen.
She drew her pistol. Well, if the aliens even tried messing with her
mind, she'd kill them, alliance or no. the elevator stopped with a loud
ding and the doors slid open and she walked into the main hall. Off
to the sides were more soldiers similarly unconscious and in pain,
curled up on the floor or clutching their heads. At the end of the
hallway was the Speaker.
Her footsteps were loud even on the carpet, and the Speaker turned
from looking at the paintings on the wall towards her. Saudia was
expecting him to look smug, pleased even, or at least giving the
illusion of normalcy. But to her surprise and concern… the Speaker
actually looked afraid.
"What are you doing here?" She growled as she stormed up to him.
"I thought I made myself clear last time."
"I assure you, Director, you made yourself quite clear," he answered,
not bothering to even disguise the annoyance in his voice. "So much
so that one of the Elders decided to take you up on your offer."
The Speaker shook his head. "There was no attack. Not like you're
imagining. I warned you about attracting the attention of the Elders.
Congratulations, Director, you now have it."
She shook her head as she passed two more downed guards, but
knew there was little she could do until she dealt with this Ravaged
One. Her stride strong and swift, she kept walking closer to the
entrance, his pistol firmly in hand.
She froze and looked down in shock as she looked down at the
mangled arm, twisted beyond normal, scraped and bloodied, the
pain sharp with each minute motion. She hissed, no, no, this couldn't
be real. It was exactly like she remembered. Her arm had been
broken once, but years ago in a botched training exercise in the
Gauntlet.
As the door slid open she realized that she was pressing her free
hand over her wound and forcefully removed it. This wasn't real, she
wasn't going to worry about blood loss because this wasn't real, no
matter what her mind screamed otherwise. She forced herself to
stand up straight and took a confident step into the control room,
resting a blood-covered hand onto her pistol once more.
It was worse than she'd feared. Everyone had been at their stations,
presumably doing their jobs. Now everyone was either slumped over
in their seats or sprawled on the ground. But what instantly put her
on edge was that the room was completely silent, and that was when
she realized that everyone in the room wasn't in a constant state of
pain.
He easily towered over her, his helm only a few feet from the ceiling
itself. His body and arms were contained inside a robe of some kind,
one that had likely once been pristine and clean, but was now a
reflection of what she saw around her. The color was maroon and
faded red, looking to her like a mix of dried and fresh blood. Thin
gold stripes ran down the robes, but now they were either broken,
faded or torn, much like the rest of the robe. Near the bottom the
fabric had been scorched, ripped, and disintegrated, leaving the
bottom of it looking tattered.
Now her legs felt like a knife had just been stabbed into them and it
took all her willpower not to collapse to the floor, though was unable
to hide her sudden rapid breathing as her eyes watered from the
pain of simply standing up. But her anger for what had been done
gave her strength, enough to raise her pistol towards the helm of the
Elder.
"I have not come here to kill you, Director, " The Ravaged One
stated, his voice making her want to clutch her ears so she'd never
have to hear it again. It was a voice of pure anguish; raw, wounded
and tortured all at once. "You have no need of that."
Her pistol was suddenly yanked out of her hand and came to hover
beside the Ravaged One, who extended a spindly hand from his
robe, resting his palm underneath the hovering weapon. The skin
was, or at least had been, a shade of purple. Now it was like the rest
of him, faded almost to white. On the skin were open wounds,
leaking a bluish liquid that didn't fall to the ground, instead the liquid
spread out along the arm until it appeared to be absorbed into the
skin. A faint purple flare also accompanied each wound, and she
witnessed multiple of those, opening and healing just as quickly.
He then tossed the pistol back to her which she missed the instant
her fingers touched the metal, immediately feeling like her hand was
on fire. She looked down at the burning hand, it shaking as she
struggled to move the burned flesh. Gritting her teeth, she looked
back up at the indifferent alien. "What are you doing to me?"
The Ravaged One turned to finally face her, and she got a look at
the helm he wore. It must have once been prestigious, judging from
the curves on the sides and raised ridge on the top. There were two
slanted rectangles for eyeholes, and a gaping opening where she'd
imagine the mouth would be. It might not have been the intention
originally, but it looked like it was screaming. The rest of the helm
was in disrepair, the metal dull and corroded, with a large gash over
the left eyehole just allowing her a brief glimpse of a faint purple iris.
"Because you started it in the first place," she answered, shaking her
head to try and clear a now-painful headache.
"You understand nothing of us," The Ravaged One stated. "I do not
cause pain. I recall it. It is not something I can stop any more than
you can breathing." His helmet inclined slightly. "The fact that you
are still standing is a testament to your will, but you are not special.
You simply contain decades of pain you've endured, healed and
forgotten. Pain you are now reminded of. Pain you should have
never forgotten to begin with."
"Enough," she spat, resisting the urge to cry as she felt her skin on
both arms being shredded by toxic thorns. "Why are you here ?"
"You stated that you wanted to deal directly with us," the Ravaged
One answered, the air around him distorted slightly for a few
seconds. " Here I am ."
In retrospect, that seemed like a terrible idea now. "And what do you
want?" She demanded through the pain.
"To remind you of your goal," the Ravaged One stated. "The one you
promised to help us fulfill. A goal that you have failed to adequately
complete. It was believed that you might be able to deal with XCOM,
though that seems to have been disproven now, despite our help."
He took a step toward her. " I will deal with XCOM . You will ensure
that the world collapses in our favor."
"And what does that entail?" Saudia demanded, gritting her teeth.
"Making the world go to war with each other," the Ravaged One
explained, looking down on her. "Humans are emotional and
reactionary, something that you recognize and have exploited. I've
studied your world over the past months, and there are countries to
exploit, only if you have the courage to carry them out."
"And what makes you think you can dictate what we do," Saudia
stated, allowing her anger to push away the pain temporarily. "This is
an alliance, nothing more. And after you've killed my-"
She was cut off as she felt herself enveloped in a tangible invisible
field, and pulled off the ground towards the Ravaged One who
extended a hand to catch her by the throat. Her skin felt on fire
wherever the Elder touched, the acidic feeling enough to cause her
to scream.
"You want to rule," the Ravaged One hissed with certainly, his voice
sending nails into her mind. "That is nothing less than your goal. But
only a few stood in your way: the United Nations, and by extension,
XCOM . You knew you couldn't beat them on your own, so you went
to the only power that might give you what you needed . Your
organization was never about the advancement of humanity. It was a
means of power ."
"You are wrong," Saudia hissed. "You know nothing about us."
"No?" The Ravaged One brought her in closer so she could clearly
see the glowing purple iris. "Do not lie, Director. Your mind is open to
me, I know what you are. You enjoy the power that comes with your
position. You thrive on authority over others, you pride yourself on
being controlled, collected and superior to those around you."
He tossed her back and dropped her near where she'd been
standing before. Saudia coughed and gingerly touched her throat,
immediately pulling pack as she felt the skin around her throat split
open as soon as she touched it. As she struggled to her feet, the
Ravaged One continued, withdrawing his arm into his robe.
The Ravaged One took several steps toward her until he was directly
over her. "You are not required for the future, Director. If you cannot
be loyal, then someone else will take your place. Do you understand
?"
"You say the words, but lie all the same," the Ravaged One stated,
as Saudia doubled over from a new wave of pain coming from her
stomach. "Your thoughts aren't hidden from me. You want to kill me;
make me pay for what I've done…." He looked down at her, as she
fell to one knee. "These deaths are not my fault, Director . They are
a direct consequence of your actions."
He looked around the room in his ruined helm. " You were the one
who wanted to speak to me, your pride preventing you from
accepting anyone lower. You are the one who decided to use us,
your superiority blinding you to the fact that you aren't special. You
are the one who wanted to betray us, your arrogance deluding you
into believing you are somehow equal ."
" That is the only reason I have elected to continue this agreement,"
he stated, as her eyes rolled into her head as she struggled not to go
into shock. "Because EXALT can still be useful . You just need
direction . You need motivation. Your species will become part of the
uplifted, Director, but you… I know you will not last long in our
remade world. You are too rebellious, too independent to accept any
truth other than your own."
"Then why am I still alive?" Saudia gasped, unable to move any part
of her body caught in the Ravaged One's stasis field.
His hand was withdrawn back into his robe and she fell to the ground
with a thud, the impact causing her to scream and she almost
blacked out then. "Remember what you've endured today, Director,"
the Ravaged One spoke above her. "Let this pain shape you into
something greater than the selfish woman you are. Pray we do not
meet again, because next time, you will die."
And with that one command, Saudia Vyandar fell into a deep and
tortured sleep.
-Xabiar
Alien Abduction: England
Alien Abduction: England
Taipei, Taiwan
The Commander had to admit the Taipei Botanical Garden was quite
beautiful, and certainly made a nice change of meeting place from
the regular secret rooms and offices. Just walking through the
gardens, he could almost ignore the guards posted throughout, not
to mention the four Taiwanese special forces agents who were
keeping a reasonable distance away.
He suspected that his personal tails were more for intimidation rather
than actually intending to kill him. He had no doubt that if they
believed he was a threat, several snipers as well as every nearby
soldier would be gunning for him. Those four were just a diversion.
He did have to admit that their uniforms were striking; the Taiwanese
didn't mess around when it came to their special forces.
It was standard black Kevlar vests, pants and boots, like most
special forces, but what made them stand out were the full
facemasks that covered their faces completely except for the eyes. It
was an impressive mix of intimidation and practicality, though the
Commander didn't really believe it would shake the composure of
any professional.
An odd question, and one he didn't exactly see the relevance for. He
supposed it was her way of testing him for something. "I do not,
Excellency. That was never an interest of mine, though I can
appreciate them and the work put into gardens like this."
She chuckled. "Good answer. Safe . You may not like the title of
diplomat, but you play it well, which was more than I expected."
He turned his head to look down at her. He was at least a head taller
than her, though she was clearly not bothered by the size difference
at all. "And just what did you expect?"
She turned her calculating eyes towards him, the brown irises
seemingly trying to capture every detail. Rena was younger than
usual for her position, nearly fifty, with a kind, motherly face and
black hair cut off just below the shoulder that had yet to gray. She
was reportedly more intelligent than charismatic, but the Commander
didn't exactly buy that.
"Someone who doesn't have time to deal with trivial questions," she
answered wryly. "Depending on the person, the Commander of
XCOM is the embodiment of authority and respect, or a ruthless
military dictator. You are a polarizing person, Commander, and I
wondered which of your purported personalities would come
through. I have my answer now."
Assurance. That was what she had. Not exactly charisma, but the
knowledge that she was in control and nothing could shake her. It
was essential in cultivating loyalty, and it made him wonder if she
was former military as well. Civilians generally lacked the intensity
she displayed. "I don't suppose you have any more trivial questions
to ask me?"
"Not at this moment," she answered, shaking her head and turned.
"Walk with me. I think it's time we get down to business."
The Commander fell into step beside her as they walked peacefully
through the gardens. "I'll be honest, Commander," she said while
they walked. "I did not expect to be contacted by XCOM. Let alone
personally meet with you."
"Less than ideal," Rena answered slowly. "The United Nations has
only seen fit to give the basics, namely that XCOM is for dealing with
the alien threat, and how to contact them if needing assistance. And
while China was a large reason, the other one is that Taiwan would
only be able to offer limited aid."
"I suppose they would keep it quiet," the Commander muttered. "But
limited aid is not a concern for me."
"Then tell me what this is about," Rena stated firmly, looking at him
intently for an answer. "Tell me why you would take such a risk even
speaking to me in the first place? I know practical men when I see
them, and you wouldn't do this unless you have something to gain.
So be honest, Commander: Do you wish a potential alliance only to
strike back at the Chinese?"
Ah, she was good. "I won't deny the satisfaction I'd get from that,
yes," he began honestly. "But it's more than just your country,
Excellency. It's about what an alliance would represent to the world.
Like it or not, Taiwan is the most obvious face of Chinese
authoritarianism, but you are not the only one. Should XCOM
acknowledge Taiwan as an independent country, it would show the
world the Chinese are losing their power."
"And as a way for you to weaken a country that has spited you in
some way," she added neutrally. "I don't know what China did to you,
Commander, and I don't need to. But what happens if you simply
provoke them into taking my country by force?"
The Commander smiled. "An alliance with XCOM would ensure your
protection, Excellency. China may not be friendly, but they will not
risk a war with XCOM, because they would lose."
"I do," she said, frowning. "It was something to witness. Why do you
ask?"
"Because I am the Commander."
She froze and looked at him, surprise contorting her face as she
analyzed him again, as if for the first time. "I would normally say you
were lying," she said slowly after a few minutes of tense silence. "But
you would not jest about this, nor would you think about claiming the
identity of a man people consider a war criminal."
"A label I don't deny," the Commander nodded. "But as I have stated
to others before, I make no apologies for my actions. I only tell you
this because you wanted assurance that I follow through on my
convictions. China does not intimidate me, nor the United Nations.
Should the worst happen, XCOM would stand with Taiwan politically
and militarily."
"And your true identity is being suppressed," she noted. "I imagine
the number of those who know is very small."
"It is," he said. "So I suppose I should know if this will be a problem
now."
She pursed her lips in disapproval. "You are not the person I would
want to associate myself with, Commander. But I won't deny that
men like you are needed; in times like these more than ever. If this
was anything less than an alien invasion, I would order your arrest,"
she raised a hand to cut off a preemptive response. "But none of us
have that luxury. You may be a terrible person, Commander, but you
are one who gets results and can be relied upon, as long as we're
useful, at least."
"My policy is very simply," the Commander stated, crossing his arms.
"Don't intentionally make me your enemy and I'll work with you.
Neither you nor Taiwan has nothing to fear from me unless you start
working with the aliens or try to kill me. Simple as that."
"You certainly make it sound that way," Rena noted. "But correct me
if I am wrong; you would kill me if you felt I posed a threat to your
plans?"
"Since my plans involve protecting humanity from enslavement or
annihilation, absolutely," the Commander answered instantly,
meeting her piercing gaze; his enhanced eyes seeing every detail of
her worn face. "That does not apply solely to you, either."
"I know how this works," he answered calmly. "We both need
something to lose here. Should XCOM fail in it's duty to protect
Taiwan from threats, you have what you need to barter with the
Chinese. Or simply have it as an insurance policy. Consider it
however you like, but to me it's a promise. One that I've bet
everything I've done on."
"Very well," she nodded. "In that case, I do think we can come to an
arrangement of some kind." She extended a hand to him which he
took without hesitation, one firm shake and it was unofficially sealed
between them.
"Is he up?" Jochern asked as he walked over to the table she was
sitting at.
Zhang looked off to the side and gave a nod. "Received. State your
cases for each."
"We'll start with Nathan," Abby began, pulling over the paper she'd
written her notes on. "He's definitely being paid by the United
America Super-Pac, a new one that's only come up within the past
six months."
"Which is around the time Kamili really began her bid for president,"
Jochern added, satisfaction in his voice. He really seemed to enjoy
nailing frauds and criminals, something she could relate to now.
There really wasn't a feeling like vindication for your suspicions.
" Kamili doesn't seem the type EXALT would support," Zhang noted,
frowning.
"I agree," Abby nodded. "But that may be intentional, and if so, it's
working. Everyone is speculating that in a few days she'll be ahead
in the polls. She has a real shot a winning the Republican
nomination now."
"Even if he's not EXALT, he's definitely corrupt," Jochern added. "We
definitely have enough to get him fired."
" I see," Zhang said neutrally. "Good work. What about the chief
editor?"
"No concrete evidence one way or another," Abby admitted. "It's not
so much what we have but what she's done . Anything even
remotely related to XCOM is always slanted against us; my own
work where I deliberately tried to be as neutral as possible wasn't
enough. She's essentially had me insinuate that XCOM performed a
criminal attack in China and that they will respond."
"I've done what I could," Abby said with a shrug. "But I couldn't do
much without raising suspicion. Since we have enough evidence on
Nathan, we'll begin moving to-"
Abby blinked in shock. "We're not sure either of them are EXALT,
Director. One of them very likely might be-"
" Extract what information you can," Zhang instructed. "Then kill
them. EXALT will not be fooled, but the rest of the world must be
convinced it was an accident."
Abby could see that being viable if they didn't comply, but then what
if they did . "What if they speak voluntarily?"
" Then kill them," Zhang repeated. "They are useless to us alive, and
would cause more problems than would be worth it."
" Very good," Zhang nodded firmly. "I will speak to you in three days.
By then I want your mission completed and your return to the
Citadel."
Both of them were silent for a few minutes as they pondered what
they'd been ordered.
"I know, I know," Abby said, knowing exactly what Ruth would say.
She'd have no qualms about killing them, arguing in the case of
Nathan that they were removing a corrupt writer from the scene and
with Amy making it safer for XCOM. The thing was, not everything
they were doing was illegal, just suspicious.
Abby rested her head in her hand. "I was party to one of the
Commander's interrogations once; and I… helped interrogate an
EXALT agent that had been captured."
"What are you getting at?!" She demanded, slamming a balled fist
onto the table. "You think I wanted do that? That I enjoyed it?"
"I know," she admitted sadly. "We've just condemned two innocent
people to die."
Abby sincerely hoped that was true, but also knew the chances of
that weren't likely. In fact, it was more likely neither of them were
EXALT. "Jochern… don't get your hopes up."
His face fell and he sank into the chair next to her. "Unrealistic, I
know," he muttered. "But if they're not EXALT… do we really have to
kill them?"
"We have orders," Abby reminded him. "I'd say that answers your
question."
Abby eyed him. "Do you really think Zhang would buy that story?"
"Even if they're wrong," Abby repeated quietly. "Zhang knows the big
picture, we don't. He has a plan we don't know and if we screw that
up somehow, who knows how many agents will die because of us."
Abby shrugged. "I am. But it doesn't matter if it's justified or not. The
woman who told me that also stated one overriding fact."
"Which is?"
"Don't give me that," she snapped. "If you won't do it, I will."
He practically stormed out the door, leaving her alone for the
moment. She took a breath. This wasn't what she'd expected, nor
what she wanted to do, but she had not choice now. How would Ruth
handle this?
Actually, that didn't matter. Ruth wasn't here. This was her operation
and she'd do it her way.
Although it seemed like her way was going to be very similar to how
Ruth would handle it, given the restrictions Zhang had placed on her.
With some reluctance, she sat down again and began writing ideas
about the best way to kill two people and make it look like an
accident.
All she really had to do was not consider them people anymore.
Only as EXALT.
Only as traitors.
"I trust your meeting went well?" Shen asked while they waited for
Vahlen.
"That it will be," Shen agreed, looking down at the holomap. "I'll
admit, I didn't expect to see the day when Taiwan's independence
would be recognized."
"It is," Shen agreed. "And I do want to thank you for it, Commander.
Regardless of your questionable methods, you do stand by your
principles. That I can at least respect."
"We also have all the data from the experiments the sectoids were
running," Vahlen added, stepping forward. "Zhang's team is going
through the data gathered to translate it, but may need your
assistance."
"He'll have it," the Commander assured her. "What equipment have
you been able to find that could be useful?"
"While the sectoids methods are even harsher than ours, their
technology is extremely developed," Vahlen continued, looking highly
pleased. "I believe I can adapt their autopsy pods for our purposes,
as well as the data they've collected on other species."
"It might as well go to some use," the Commander agreed. "And the
test subjects?"
"Secured and after the more… pressing experiments are finished, I'll
be taking a much closer look," Vahlen answered. "The sectoid virus
is almost ready to deploy, though since there seem to be different
variants, the structure might have to be tweaked to be lethal for all
the genetically different ones."
"That does not seem a wise idea," Shen cautioned with a skeptical
look.
"We have a lot more to do than grow pet sectoids," the Commander
agreed. "Right now I'm more interested in if you've found a way to
determine psionic soldiers."
The Commander smiled. "Excellent, both of you. Now, there are two
more things that need to be discussed. Shen, this one mostly
pertains to your team, but Vahlen, yours might be needed as well."
"That won't be enough," the Commander shook his head. "We need
a new aircraft, one built from alien tech and metal. Spaceworthy if
possible."
"Focus on the aircraft for now," the Commander ordered. "I'll have
Bradford call in additional help from our allies. Also, you said that the
Ballista-class MEC was ready for production?"
"It is," Shen handed him a tablet. "The Goliath-class is also nearly
complete, though the size is making simulations difficult. An
additional design is also in the preliminary stages, but I've already
ordered a Ballista-class to be constructed."
Shen gave a firm nod. "I wish there was a better way, but we've
sadly made no progress on that front."
"I did," the Commander answered, the corners of his lips curled up.
"But there was never a suitable location," he motioned at the
hologram. "That has now changed."
Shen blinked. "Are you sure that's a good idea. The aliens-"
"Even if we do," Shen added. "The aliens will still know where it is."
"I'll have my team get started on that right away," Shen promised.
And that was what the Commander was afraid of. Because the
aliens needed to send a message to them; and worried about the
size of that message.
"I've sent out orders for all suspected EXALT plants to be captured,
interrogated and executed," Zhang updated, handing the
Commander a tablet displaying the current ongoing operations.
"EXALT's propaganda network will be crippled within the week."
"Hopefully they'll back off after this," the Commander muttered. "I
think we now need to turn to ensuring that countries haven't been
infiltrated by Vitakara agents."
"You think they'll take our alliance with Taiwan that badly?" The
Commander asked skeptically. "Sure, they'll make a large
international fuss, but they have nothing tangible to threaten us but
words."
"And armies," Zhang corrected. "And I agree; China will likely not
become a problem, but if it does we need to be ready."
"And yet I suspect you have an idea," the Commander guessed with
a small smile.
"I don't like the fact that this is an option to begin with. Tell me."
"We could use the Triad," Zhang offered. "Or what's left of it."
The Commander pursed his lips, silence stretching between them for
a minute. "I don't want to enable criminals," he finally said.
"Localized terrorism is useful, but the problem is that we do not
control the Triad. They would escalate it beyond what we want."
"Which is why we'd ensure they get put down afterwards," Zhang
added, setting his tablet down. "We have the majority of the Triad's
military attack their military complexes for alien tech, and afterwards
leak the remaining locations of the Triad to the Chinese who'll wipe
them out for good. Combined with the majority of their government
being assassinated, that should significantly weaken China for a
short while."
"And just how would you convince them to follow a suicide mission?"
The Commander asked wearily. "The Triad usually aren't stupid."
"No," Zhang agreed with a smile. "But they are desperate now.
Desperate enough to attempt a blatant attack on the Chinese
government. And if that isn't enough… we have a psionic who can
control minds, yes?"
"Which is why for now I would suggest you only test agents you trust
completely," the Commander suggested. "That being said, I know.
Has Vahlen briefed you on the Manchurian Program?"
"We should begin a recruitment drive from our allies," Zhang stated.
"They can spare some scientists. Should we ally with North Korea,
I'd imagine they would send over their best."
"Let me know," Zhang commented, a rare smile on his face. "I want
to see Van Doorn's face when you tell him your plan."
"I think it's more than a plan now," the Commander sighed wearily as
he recalled what he'd written. "At this point, it is probably our only
hope."
Patricia pursed her lips. "It's not physical, doctor." To anyone else,
Anius Creed probably looked like he was sleeping, but underneath
Patricia could still sense the faint consistency of panic, fear and
rage. Whatever the Hive Commander had done to him, it was
probably not going to go away on his own.
She didn't know how yet, nor was she going to do it right this minute.
But it would have to be soon because she didn't want to risk him
being trapped in his mind for days and then go insane. Then again,
she could very well cause the same thing since she had no fucking
clue how to fix him. For all she knew, she'd doomed him when she'd
forced him to sleep.
Blake cleared his throat, breaking the silence after a few seconds.
"I'll do what I can for him… but if you're worried about him, you
should try to help him sooner than later. This is outside my expertise,
Patricia, you know better than me what his chances are."
She probably did, and that was terrifying to her. Giving her thanks to
the doctor, she rose and left the room, barely paying attention to her
surroundings.
The blind leading the blind; that was how she felt right now. She was
only fumbling her way through this; experimenting with no actual
expectations or results. She could be doing everything wrong and
not knowing it. And yet she was the only one who had something of
a clue how psionics actually worked.
Oh, Vahlen certain had theories and was no doubt trying to figure the
concrete science of it out, but strapping sensors to her head and
asking endless questions would never convey even for a second
what it was like to control someone's mind, see their thoughts, or
force your will upon them. Science could adequately explain that,
and even in her limited experience she knew she was only
scratching the surface of the possibilities.
And now she'd have to help four more get through what she did.
She almost wished she'd kept the Hive Commander alive, if only to
extract what it knew about the proper training of psionics. Although
she was certain the Hive Commander would have driven itself
insane long before she'd been able to find that. But killing the Hive
Commander in such a… vindicating… fashion had been… liberating
.
Some part of her had always held back, some part of morality had
always stopped her from being as lethal as possible when she used
her powers. But she'd never known just what she could do until she'd
driven the Hive Commander insane. Sure, she could have tried
getting some information out of it, that's what she'd implied to the
Commander at least, but in reality…
Seeing Maria kill Sarah, Eden and Afif killing themselves and Creed
attacking her had removed any ounce of mercy she'd had towards
the alien. And so she'd trapped the creature in it's mind, killing it
again and again, slowly destroying it's mind piece by piece as it's
psyche fractured as she made it believe it was drowning in acid or
burning alive.
She'd been too far in the trance, but from what Carmelita had
described, it had been unnerving even to her. That wasn't to say she
didn't learn anything practical from the Hive Commander. She now
knew how a sectoid mind worked, and most importantly, possible
methods for blocking psionic attacks.
It was funny, she'd hadn't even been trying to get that. But the Hive
Commander had tried it in the beginning, knowing how it worked. But
it was too weak and she was in control of it's mind. So any initial
attempts soon failed and the torture began.
It was odd. She hadn't really known what to feel after. Some of the
soldiers had looked at her funny after she'd finished, their emotions
conflicted. Even Carmelita wasn't completely comfortable, though
Patricia suspected it was more because psionics unnerved her than
any misguided sympathy for the alien itself.
But she didn't feel bad at all. On some level she knew that it was
wrong, unethical, whatever. But she didn't feel that at all, if anything
she felt justified . And why should she be? There were few fitting
punishments for what the alien had done.
Back during the days of the War on Terror, she'd wondered and
theorized exactly how the Commander justified his actions. Everyone
had been condemning him, the media, her friends, the government,
especially during the later days. Yet she'd never been convinced
they were completely right .
Everything he'd done was morally reprehensible, but what stood out
to her now was that no one looked at the victims, at least not under a
microscope. No one could commit atrocities like that and still keep
doing them without something more. She'd wondered what had
driven him. Rage, grief, hate, all those had seemed likely
possibilities, but those emotions were fleeting and burned out
quicker.
But now she thought she might have the answer. Justice . How else
could a man kill so many people and not be able to justify it in some
way? What could cause such a lack of empathy that the principle
method of execution was crucifixion. Because the Commander had
believed it was justified . It wasn't sadism, racism, mental illness or
whatever reason people had tried to explain his actions.
No, she suspected that the Commander had had a similar epiphany
to her.
Simple as that.
Why should she care about the feelings of an alien any more than
she did a wasp or rattlesnake? Why should the Commander have
cared about the pain of a terrorist that had likely killed, and would kill
more?
Because it was wrong ?
And that was what she'd been trying to figure out. If what she'd done
was wrong, why was it wrong? Or was she just wondering that
because society had conditioned her to think that? Because just
based on how she felt… she was completely fine. Vindicated.
Justified .
She wished Creed was awake to she could talk to him about this. He
might be the only one who understood where she was coming from,
or that she felt comfortable with talking with in the first place. Paige
would have been the only one, and even if she hadn't been dead,
Patricia wasn't sure she'd really understand. Paige had been a good
woman, in every sense of the word.
Patricia had always considered herself to be… decent. Not the best
person in the world, but not the worst either.
Now though, she wasn't sure she'd even reach that bar.
No, scratch that. She wouldn't lie to herself. She wasn't a good
person, not anymore.
Did it matter?
Was anything going to change just because she wasn't what was
considered a good person? Would the aliens care? Would her
soldiers? Would the Commander? Probably not. The longer this went
on, it seemed like people were realizing that they needed to do
whatever it took for them to survive.
She realized she had walked right up to the Mess Hall. Well, at least
she'd come to the right place. All of them were already inside; it was
interesting, psionic humans were extremely distinct from regular
ones. It was faint, but there all the same. She opened the door and
walked inside.
Iosif, Galia and Alexei were all sitting at a nearby table and hushed
up as she walked up. "On time, good," she said as she took a seat to
face all of them.
"So…" Alexei said after a few seconds. "How does all this work?"
Patricia rested her hands on the table and took a moment to feel the
general state of them. Galia was optimistic, Iosif and Alexei were
more skeptical and nervous about the whole ordeal. All were fine,
these were professionals, they could handle this with the right
instructions. Of course, those instructions had to be from her.
No pressure, right?
"Right…" Alexei started off. "Is it normal that I'm… well, hearing
things? Voices to be specific?"
"Well, that's good I guess," Alexei said, his relief very apparent. "It's
really strange that the stuff I'm receiving is coming from someone."
"I'm somewhat similar," Galia interjected. "Though it's more strong
emotions than voices per-se. I mean, I'm hearing a couple to, but I
don't think to the extend Alexei is."
"Have you tried doing anything with them?" Patricia asked. "Or tried
to reach the source?"
"There's a lot you could do," Patricia said. "But as a general rule, I
don't deliberate seek people out like that unless I have their consent.
You all should adopt that as well."
"So that's why you and Creed were spending so much time
together," Galia commented, smiling. "Your guinea pig?"
Patricia eyed the woman cautiously, not liking where this was
headed. "Yes, of sorts. What did you think was going on?"
"Oh, nothing much," she said lightly. "But that was sweet of him to
volunteer."
"Oh, don't lie," Patricia muttered, resting her forehead on her hand in
disbelief trying to quell the red rising in her face. "I can sense exactly
what you meant by that."
"And you know what," Galia smirked. "I'm pretty sure I just felt you as
well."
"Don't set high expectations," Iosif warned with a sigh. "Seriously. All
I can do is make some purple lights."
Well, that was new. "Go on," Patricia encouraged.
He nodded and took a breath. His face set and body tense, nothing
happened for a couple minutes. Then small wisps of purple energy
wrapped around his raised arm, becoming more frequent and visible.
Iosif flipped his hand palm up and some of the energy conjoined to
form a small shimmering square.
"I can't hold it very long," Iosif explained. "And if it's disturbed at all…
I just lose focus. I'm not really hearing voices or emotions like the
others, at least not nearly as frequent. But there's something else in
me now, a well of power for lack of a better term. One I can summon
if I try."
They were cut off as a light buzzing reached their ears. Galia looked
down to see her wristband vibrating. "Seems the aliens have struck
again," she sighed and stood. "Duty calls."
That was a pretty quick response, but Patricia supposed the aliens
were continuing on with their business as usual. "Good luck, we'll
work on this later."
"See you soon," she said with a wave before whistling for Aluma to
come to her. The dog trotted up to her, happy as could be as Galia
scratched his chin. Patricia turned back to Alexei and Iosif after she
left.
"Alright," she said, clasping her hands together. "I have some ideas
of what you can do to improve, but remember that what works for me
might not for you. It seems like abilities vary from person to person."
"You've had this longer than anyone," Iosif said, inclining his head.
"I'll trust you."
She sincerely hoped so. "In that case, let's get started."
Optimistic.
Galia wasn't sure that was quite what she should be feeling right
now; or even as a proper reaction to what was happening to her.
Although she couldn't really place why she felt like that. How were
you supposed to react to learning that you'd be able to read minds?
Well… maybe not quite that drastic. But she could certainly try.
Aluma whined at her as she put her armor on and she smiled as she
rubbed her head happily and gave her one of the rolls from the mess
hall. The little mutt knew when she was in a good mood, and anyone
who believed dogs couldn't detect emotions was either lying or
hadn't owned one of their own. It was just one reason she trusted
Aluma with her life, and in some cases found her to be more reliable
than some people.
"[Things are going to change, girl,]" she said affectionately to the dog
as she pulled on her gauntlets. "[And you are going to help me with
it.]"
Aluma may not have understood fluent Hebrew, but she could pick
up on the meaning easily enough. Maybe dogs were inherently
psionic; she honestly wouldn't be surprised. "[Alright,]" Galia told her
as she reached for the other set of armor. "{Your turn. Hold still.]"
Now all armored up, Galia stood and motioned for Aluma to fall into
step beside her. "[Come on,]"
Tail wagging, Aluma happily walked beside her as they walked to the
hangar. Galia wondered if the aliens were striking now in retaliation,
or if this was planned all along. Neither would surprise her, truth be
told, but whatever the case, she was looking forward to sending
them to whatever their equivalent of hell was.
As of this moment, she had a somewhat humorous theory that
whatever hell the aliens believed in, XCOM was going to be there.
When Galia had first been transferred to XCOM, she'd not really
expected to become as… invested as she was. But here, she
actually felt like she was making a real difference. Doing something
that mattered . Not that her old position hadn't per-se… but it wasn't
the large impact that she'd dreamed of. Dreams she'd lowered when
faced with reality, and had resigned herself that though she might
make an impact, it would be very small and the number of people
who really noticed or cared would be even fewer.
But here, even though it should have been the opposite, she actually
felt like they were making progress. Each successful mission was a
strike against an enemy who would be forced to replenish again and
again. XCOM kept advancing, growing more powerful the more
victories they earned. Even if she hadn't been here during the first
months, the fact that XCOM had saved Germany, destroyed a
Dreadnought and now taken an alien base couldn't be ignored.
Sure, the aliens would want to strike back. But now she felt they
stood a decent chance, especially when backed with Myra, Patricia,
Carmelita and the Commander himself. And if her psionic abilities
could ensure their victory, she'd work day and night to be the best
XCOM had to offer. It was time Patricia had some competition
anyway.
They reached the hangar and the door slid open to reveal most of
the assembled squad waiting already. Galia felt a brief flash of
emotions, calm, elated, nervous, and they vanished just as quickly.
She supposed they came in spurts at first, and would grow
consistent with time. She'd have to experiment later, find someone
willing to allow her to literally pick their mind.
She recognized some of them, there was a pretty good mix of newer
soldiers and veterans, she falling somewhere in the middle. Josue
and Malcom had been with XCOM since the beginning, and were by
all accounts excellent soldiers, even if they hadn't really made a
name for themselves like Carmelita or Creed.
Augustine noticed her walking up. "Does that tire her out?" He
asked, clearly referring to Aluma's armor.
"Thank Shen's daughter," Galia chuckled. "She was the one who
made it. She really doesn't want anything to happen to Aluma."
"Ah, I wasn't aware Israeli special forces had a canine unit," she
answered, taking the hand. "Charlotte Ronja, Switzerland ARD 10
Medic."
"Isn't Switzerland neutral in everything?" Josue asked, walking up,
his gauss rifle slung over the back of his green-cameoed armor. "I
didn't even know you had a special forces unit."
The hangar doors slid open behind them and Galia saw James,
Pavel, Anneli and one of the pilots walk in. Since none of the
gathered soldiers had given any indication, she assumed that James
was the Squad Overseer. A JF2 operative would be the best choice,
even if pretty much everyone else had seniority over him here at
least in time spent.
Aluma laid at her feet, resting her eyes before the upcoming battle.
The rest of them were silent and waiting for more information. If it
was in England, it wouldn't be a very long ride since she'd learned
that the skyranger could fly at unreasonably fast speeds. But she
wasn't worried, from the brief flashes and words that had appeared
in her mind, everyone possessed a confidence that she didn't think
had existed a few days ago.
"Not bad," Galia shrugged. "It's honestly not much now, but that will
probably change soon."
"Not that they probably have much choice," Anneli pointed out.
But this thing was that they didn't know that, or worse, had no way to
actually prove that regardless of what assurances she gave. She'd
never really had an issue with Patricia since she trusted her. But now
she guessed she would have to follow Patricia's example; actions
outweighed words.
" This is the Commander to Sun Team," the familiar voice coming
through her helmet speakers. "You're being deployed to England.
The city of Plymouth has just gone silent, and we suspect the aliens
are responsible."
Galia frowned. That was odd. Though the sheer volume of 999 calls
might have simply meant that the Commander and his team just
hadn't found the right calls. Not that it mattered; she knew the aliens
were behind this and they were going to stop them, whatever it took.
" Find out why Plymouth has gone dark," the Commander repeated.
"Shoot all aliens on sight and secure the city. Good luck. Citadel
Command, out."
The line clicked off.
"So what are the best aliens for a frontal attack?" Augustine asked.
"Mutons and floaters seem a good bet."
"Right, let's just prepare for those," James nodded. "A sizable
number would probably be twenty or a few more to effectively clear
the city out."
" Well, you're about to find out," the voice of Fallen Sky interrupted.
"I'm dropping you off just outside the city center. No signs of a fight
from what I can see. Prepare to deploy in one."
Galia tapped Aluma and the dog was instantly on her feet and
followed her to the end of the squad. Since deploying would require
a bit more time than the others, she needed to go last so both of
them would have a safe landing. The skyranger dipped until it was
hovering over an unknown area. With a hiss the ramp opened
displaying the short buildings of the town.
Plymouth, England
Galia hit the ground and deposited Aluma onto it in one practiced
motion. Once she raised her weapon, she quickly got a look of her
surroundings. It became immediately apparent to her that this was
different. The previous abductions had always been ghost towns,
areas still intact but devoid of all life within them.
Not here.
It looked like an epidemic had struck. Cars were strewn across the
streets, crashed into buildings, other vehicles and… people. Some of
the cars were on fire and spreading to the other buildings or bodies.
But that damage paled in comparison to what else littered the
streets.
Bodies. Tens of bodies, people just lying on the sidewalk. Others just
curled up on the street. Galia could barely look at the group of school
children on the ground across the street. She didn't hold out hope
that they were somehow alive. None of the bodies moved, even the
ones without wounds on them.
" I am."
Together they moved down the street, stepping over the motionless
corpses and trying not to disturb their silent rest. Disconcertion,
anger and fear all flashed into her, and she couldn't quite shake any
other those emotions even if they weren't hers. Even Aluma seemed
unsettled by the carnage around her, keeping closer to her legs than
normal.
She could hear the hesitation in her voice. "He died in pain, and
likely very quickly. There's only a few plausible reasons I can think of
or have seen. Heart attack or stroke are obvious ones, but… what
are the chances it could happen now ?" Charlotte stood and
gestured around the streets of corpses. "Take a look around. He's
not the only one who's like that."
"All of these people died in pain," Pavel noted, kneeling beside the
bodies of a woman and presumably her daughter. "Look at their
faces. There isn't a peaceful or even neutral expression on them."
James paused, then turned to Charlotte. "I know this isn't your field,
per-se," he began. "But would that be possible? A weaponized agent
causing what we've seen?"
" A virus or biological agent might explain why none of the 999 calls
mentioned the aliens," the Commander noted, subdued. "Keep
going, but be wary. I doubt the aliens just killed these people and
left."
"Let's go," James ordered and they moved further into the city.
Galia was grateful that her helmet filters removed the worst of the
smells. Little disturbed her, but that didn't exactly mean she wanted
to smell charred flesh and decaying bodies. But still… this was
horrific, even to her. It wasn't quite on the level of the alien base, but
seeing a street filled with ordinary dead people was something any
normal person would find hard to stomach.
They kept walking for a few minutes, passing concrete buildings and
shops with dead people in the offices, breezeways and diners. Galia
pursed her lips as she saw a fire brewing in a restaurant with dozens
of dead customers in the seats. "Look at this," Augustine called, as
he knelt beside yet another corpse.
Unlike most of the others, this woman's throat was slit. Blood
covered her neck and had soaked into her shirt. A bloody knife was
also in her hand. "She killed herself?" Galia wondered. It made
sense and was almost certainly the cause… but she could help but
feel like there was something missing.
"Assuming that whatever did this triggered those," Galia pointed out
with a frown. "Maybe it just caused too much pain."
With that somber thought, they kept going and that was when there
was a noticeable change in the bodies. No longer were the majority
unmarked and unscathed. Some had cuts, gunshot wounds or body
parts removed.
Galia looked over at a twin pair of police officers. One who had
jammed her head into a nearby spike and another who'd slit his
wrists. This was looking less and less of a drug of some kind to her.
What drug was so agonizing the majority of people were able to kill
themselves after suffering it? But the one consistent part of all the
bodies were that the faces were still the same; all in pain.
"I'm not sure what they did," Charlotte answered slowly. "I don't know
what else could cause a mass suicide on this scale other than a
hallucinogenic, and even then the chances of it affecting them all the
same way are minuscule at best."
"It seems to be worse the further we go in," Malcom noted. "Let's get
this over with."
They kept on walking, their attitudes far different now than the
confident skyranger ride over. Galia found herself actually wondering
what they could do it if the aliens tried a similar tactic on them.
Without knowing what it was… could they really prepare?
"Ugh," she stumbled as she felt something tear into her leg. It felt like
a bullet, but she'd heard no shot and as she looked down, her armor
was unbroken. But she felt the pain her leg was sending her; she felt
the blood trickling down her calve.
There were similar sounds coming from the rest of them. "This can't
be right," Augustine asked, shaking his head as he straightened up.
"I'm fine."
"Speak for yourself," Pavel growled. "I'm pretty sure I was just shot!"
"Me too," Galia added with a wince. The pain was dying, but it was
still threatening to compromise her calm. "My leg. But it can't be
happening."
They pushed through their phantom pain and kept walking forward.
Galia almost fell to the ground several times as spikes of pain
stabbed into her legs. All of their breathing became more labored the
closer they got, their pace slowing through the constant barrage of
agony. After what seemed like ages they finally came to what had to
be the city center.
It was a large circular area, paved with brick and a large fountain in
the middle. Cars and bodies littered the area and the buildings
surround the center were broken, ruined or were on fire. Directly in
front of them at the end of the street was… something .
Galia squinted at the figure, trying to get a better look. It was tall, that
much was clear, and even from here she could tell it towered over
her. Some kind of reddish robe covered it's entire body, minus the
helmet it wore. The entire wardrobe had seen better days, since the
robe itself was ripped, scored and frayed. The helmet wasn't much
better, the once regal design now marred by rust, gashes and
scratches.
"Contact up ahead," James growled. "Into cover and open fire!"
Galia gasped as a new wave of pain hit her chest, making it feel as if
it was on fire. Not real. Not real. She dashed to a store corner and
lined up her shot on the alien. Gauss bullets sped towards the
immobile being, but if it was worried it didn't show it. Pavel,
Augustine and Charlotte were also firing at it and it just stood there.
It's robe twitched and jumped as the projectiles clearly hit it… but it
didn't seem to be affected. Galia paused, then zoomed in on it's face
and felt a wave of terror sweep over her. Several projectiles would
have hit the head of the alien. The only problem was that at least five
were simply suspended before the helm, preventing further
movement.
"Correct."
That one word almost made her scream as the sound grated against
her very brain. It was the embodiment of a tortured soul, one that
embodied the voice of the damned. A wailing, pitiful voice containing
equal parts terror and pain. It was worse because she heard it
through her ears and in her mind !
The others weren't so quiet. Josue and Anneli audibly screamed and
redoubled their fire. Aluma howled and fell to the ground. The sight
of her longest companion in such pain was enough for her to dispel
the stunning quality of that voice and release a sustained barrage on
the alien.
They fell to the ground a second later and the alien began walking
towards them. Galia pulled out her pistol and began firing. A new
wave of agony in her neck caused her to scream, but she kept at it.
"I'm going in!" James yelled, clasping his alloy cannon.
"No one is coming," the alien stated in his awful wail. "And you will
not leave alive."
He thrust the drawn arm towards the right side and James was
thrown and pinned against a nearby wall, screaming in pain. The
alien's hand contorted into a claw as purple energy writhed around it.
Purple energy also began encircling James and she watched in
horror as the energy ravaged his body in armor, cutting it into rough
chunks which fell to the ground.
The pain she was feeling intensified as the alien got closer and
closer. It was all she could do not to turn the pistol on herself just to
end it. Only Pavel, Augustine and her were still trying to kill the thing.
The rest were either writing on the ground, or backing up in terror.
" You have impressed me, Commander," the voice of Fallen Sky
came over her helmet. But it wasn't him, it couldn't be. "XCOM has
accomplished what hundreds have failed before."
This isn't right. She raged on the inside, fighting to displace the
irrational calm that had descended upon her. Pavel and Augustine
had also stopped firing, their weapons held limply at their sides.
Fight it!
"You are a strong species," Augustine said in the same voice. "But
none are immune to pain, and the weak ones will be the first to die."
Galia watched with horror as he lowered his weapon towards a
writhing Anneli. Several shots towards her head and she stopped
moving.
Walk forward .
She tried fighting it, but the will of the alien overpowered her and she
shuffled towards Charlotte who was trying to prop herself up on a car
as whatever pain she was suffering from debilitated her from moving.
"Galia!" She gasped. "Fight it!"
"They cannot fight it, human," Galia said, the words appearing in her
mind. "They lack the will. They lack the ability. They cannot defy us
any more than you can deny the sun rising." Charlotte would have
probably said something else, but two gauss bullets through her
head were enough to silence her.
" You are deluded to think you can overcome us," Fallen Sky said.
"Your species has barely six thousand years of recorded history. We
have existed for millennia. We have seen and done things you would
not comprehend. Fighting us is not only foolish, it is suicide."
With dawning horror she realized what she was going to be doing.
No! She screamed internally, her body ignoring her and taking one
shuffling step at a time.
No!
Bang!
Had she been even remotely in control, Galia would have broke
down sobbing right then. But she was no longer in control and didn't
fight the alien any longer. Please, she begged as she stumbled
towards the towering alien. Just kill me.
She smiled at that. A delirious smile, but one she couldn't remove, so
far gone was her mind already from pain and grief.
Thank you.
She took off her helmet and let it drop to the charred concrete and
raised the pistol to her head, the metal feeling oddly cool against her
skin. Augustine and Pavel had done the same, looking serene as the
barrels were pressed to their heads. "Understand that you will dictate
how many lives are lost from this point on, Commander," Augustine
said. "Your opportunity to wage rebellion without consequence has
passed."
"The games are over," Pavel continued. "You wanted a war. It starts
today."
With that, Pavel and Augustine fired their pistols and their bodies fell
to the ground with a loud thud. She longed to join them, all she
needed was a command.
Do it.
After-Action Report
Operation: Enduring Tomb
Personnel:
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Sun 6: Specialist Malcom Munn
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Artifacts Recovered:
All of them stood in silence after the last armor cam turned to static.
"It seems like Nartha wasn't exaggerating about the extent of the
Ethereals powers," Van Doorn said quietly. "That couldn't have been
anything else."
"No." The Commander shook his head. "It couldn't have. And now
we've lost an entire squad and skyranger."
"I think we have a bigger problem," Van Doorn added slowly, still
looking at the static screens. "Numbers are probably not going to
beat this thing. I'm not sure it would have changed if there's been
twelve soldiers instead of eight."
The Commander pursed his lips. Van Doorn had an excellent point,
one that had been driven home by that Ethereal and the speech he'd
given to him. The good news, if it could be called that, was that this
was probably the extent of alien commitment for now. So there
probably wouldn't be a planet-sized invasion until either this Ethereal
got bored or they killed him.
But after watching that Ethereal take out eight of the world's best
soldiers, the Commander wasn't entirely certain they needed an
army. Which meant they now had to switch focus to defeating
powerful psions, because that was likely going to be the deciding
factor in how long they could last. They could have all the guns, tech
and gadgets to defeat the mutons, Vitakara and sectoids, but it
would all be pointless if the soldier wielding them lost his mind simply
because a Hive Commander or Ethereal willed it.
"I'll do that myself," the Commander said. "But save the footage we
have and give me a copy. In the meantime we need to improve the
soldiers we have and bring in new ones. Bradford, give me our
current list for genetic modification approval."
"She beat the Hive Commander," Van Doorn said thoughtfully. "I
hope it will be enough."
"And what will that consist of?" Van Doorn asked slowly.
"Then let's get to work," the Commander ordered, pushing himself off
the holotable. "This Ethereal could strike anytime, and until we know
a way to beat him, more people are going to die."
He didn't need to even say the words to convey just how precarious
their situation suddenly was. Both men knew that the consequences
of failure would be casualties in the hundreds of thousands, and no
one needed better motivation than that.
Patricia felt chills run through her as she watched the Ethereal
systematically slaughter the doomed soldiers, all while delivering
threats to the Commander. It had to be an Ethereal, the description
matched what Nartha had told them, and it was obviously far more
powerful than the Hive Commander, which to her was a terrifying
thought.
"I…" Patricia paused. "There was direct mind control, clearly, but he
somehow managed to control three soldiers, at least, as well as
Fallen Sky at the same time. I have to concentrate for just one ."
"And unless I've been mistaken, this is the first time we've seen a
demonstration of telekinesis," the Commander added thoughtfully,
resting on the edge of his desk. "I suppose that shouldn't be too
surprising. Have you attempted anything similar?"
"No," Patricia shook her head. "But mostly because I wasn't sure it
was possible. But it might be simply because I'm not… oriented
towards that application."
"I don't know," Patricia shrugged. "We need more psions to even
begin validating this theory. But my point with that was that just
because we haven't observed something doesn't mean it can't
happen. Psionics is clearly… versatile."
She felt a faint spark of amusement burst through the Commander.
"An understatement, Psion Trask. I'm more concerned with the range
of his mind control. Taking control of Fallen Sky should not have
happened. Could you do that?"
"At the range he was?" Patricia asked, crossing her arms and
looking down as she thought. "I… don't know. In a dense population,
it would have been nigh impossible. But with only a limited number,
I'd likely be able to sense it. Maybe. Distance isn't really a factor. If I
can sense a mind, I can access it."
"I'll tell you later," he answered. "Now… you heard the armor cams.
Everyone in the squad was in pain, which shouldn't have been
possible. They were clearly fine, so I'm assuming it was the Ethereal
debilitating them psionically."
"And since he mind controlled them at the same time, he must have
applied it as a… passive, for lack of a better word," Patricia noted,
eyes widening as she realized how powerful and skilled the Ethereal
was to be able to perform both simultaneously. "Planting pain isn't
difficult, per-se, but it takes effort to continue it as he did."
"And I've only had them a few months," Patricia muttered. "How the
hell am I supposed to fight that?"
"By getting better," the Commander stated bluntly. "As of this
moment, you're the only one who could remotely put up a fight
against this alien. Everything can be killed, it's just a matter of finding
weaknesses and exploiting every advantage we have. In which case
here: you."
She felt a rush of pride. Misplaced at it may be, she appreciated the
sentiment. Especially since the Commander seemed to genuinely
believe it. It was somewhat odd that she didn't sense any dishonestly
within him. Even this Ethereal didn't seem to faze him overmuch.
Sure, he was concerned, but afraid or worried ? No. Nothing.
"Ah, yes," the Commander answered, pursing his lips. "I suppose I
should say that XCOM-Council relations are not… good . There is a
very clear division in the Council, mostly centered around me."
Yes, she could see how that might put off some people. "But this is
literally our best chance against the aliens," she pointed out. "That's
an extremely petty reason to withdraw. Do they know what the aliens
are doing to us?"
"Oh, they know," the Commander raised a hand. "The point is that I
do not want to rely on the Council for funding and am seeking other
sources. China is a loss that's mostly been covered thanks to
previous efforts, but thanks to it, we've lost what surplus we've had."
She felt the cold anger underneath his words, controlled, contained,
but very much there. The Commander did seem personally insulted
that China would pull a stunt like this. She nodded along until she
registered a country the Commander had said. "Wait. North Korea?"
" Really?" Now that she wasn't really surprised at. Russia liked their
military and would probably do quite a few things to gain an edge
over America and China. "I'm somehow not surprised at that."
The utter lack of any empathy… or emotion of any kind… was highly
unsettling. Death Row prisoners were better than… well, almost
anything. But still, they were people. People who felt pain, terror and
despair. But from how the Commander spoke and how he felt… he
didn't seem to consider them as such.
"I don't know," she muttered. "I don't like it. Not at all. But you're not
sadistic or doing it out of anything other than necessity. Which I
suppose is better than the alternatives. But I suppose that it worked,
judging by Carmelita and… you."
"Vahlen is good at what she does," the Commander affirmed. "I don't
waste human life unnecessarily, Patricia. I wouldn't authorize it if it
didn't work. But I see no point getting emotional over those… people,
if they could be called that. Their lives have ensured that much better
people live; ensured that the people who deserve to be saved are .
We need to do whatever it takes to ensure humanities survival, and
in the scope of that, considerations of people worth less than nothing
are not important."
When he put it like that… she shook her head to clear it and looked
back to the screen. He truly believed that he was completely justified
and right on this. Completely. There wasn't even a whisper of doubt.
Sure, it seemed he knew that people would have problems and even
why, but it seemed that he actually didn't seem to think they were in
the right.
But… it did make sense to her. In the whole scope of things, why did
the lives of a few murderers matter? In the practical world they lived
in now, the answer was very clear: They didn't. So why should she
devote any more time to them than necessary? She wasn't sure why
she felt the need to feel outraged about this. After she'd heard who
the test subjects were, she'd only been able to muster up an almost
obligatory anger.
And why?
There was a brief flicker of surprise in him, and the only visual of that
she saw was a raised eyebrow. "Do you now?"
She shrugged. "It's been something I've thought about ever since. I
guess it boils down to that there are some people that don't deserve
consideration, mercy or life." She gestured towards the screen.
"Those people? They fall under that category. So yes, I agree."
He gave one nod. "It's good you do. I did wonder how you'd react."
"As long as you keep it to those that deserve it, I have no issue with
it," Patricia stated.
"That I can do," the Commander said, sounding more pleased then
before. "The last thing of note is that my Internal Council has access
to an additional set of contingencies. Look over them and ask
questions if you have them."
"That we do, Commander," she agreed, forming her hand into a fist
and giving him a salute. "I'll get to it. Thank you."
"Are you open to using the Citadel for hosting the peace talks?" Van
Doorn asked, handing him a tablet. "Because neither will meet in the
other's country, and we don't exactly have a lot of options for neutral
ground."
"They both seemed willing when I brought it up," Van Doorn said. "I'll
convey that to them. In that case, I think it can be arranged in the
next few days."
Van Doorn gave a small smile as he heard that. "Let's hope things
go that smoothly."
"I somehow doubt it," the Commander added with a sigh. "China and
EXALT will probably begin work to disrupt us, at least publically. But I
hope the same."
The Commander walked to face the screen at the back of his office.
"The Council. It seems like they want to talk."
"They don't know about the Ethereal yet," the Commander added.
"So they might just be calling to offer congratulations on our assault
of the alien base."
"Maybe," Van Doorn conceded. "But the Council typically doesn't call
to simply offer congratulations."
"I'm pleased to hear that," he told the Speaker. "Preventing acts like
those are what we should be focusing on. Not politics or the past."
" That particular topic, while needed, isn't why you have been
contacted," the Speaker redirected. "There has been a disturbance
near the French-German border. We are currently unsure as to the
nature of it, but there are clear alien signatures, as well as those
associated with EXALT."
Van Doorn and him exchanged a look. Well, that was interesting. If
EXALT and the aliens were fighting… hmm, maybe Director Vyandar
wasn't as idiotic as she'd insinuated. "Send me the location," the
Commander said. "We'll send a team immediately."
" Thank you, Commander," the Speaker said, inclining his head
again. "Good luck. We will be watching."
The screen cut out and the Commander immediately turned to his
desk. "Have Bradford order a skyranger to prepare," he ordered. "I'll
put together a team."
"It seems awfully soon for EXALT to pull something like this," Van
Doorn noted as he picked up his tablet. "It's unlike their methodic
nature, even if it benefits us."
"Oh, I'm sure," the Commander agreed, as he looked over the list of
soldiers. "Let's make it happen."
Location Unknown
That was what Latrell had been trying to figure out ever since he'd
woken up, bound in what he could only assume was an armored
truck and headed… somewhere. EXALT. It had to be them, and
they'd somehow managed to capture them despite all the
precautions he'd taken. Deep down, a part of him hadn't quite
believed it when Annette had described a secret organization based
in Antarctica that manipulated the world.
What had thrown a wrench in that theory was that Annette could
read minds, which was something he still was wrapping his head
around. But as he looked around the armored car, with the six men
and women all wearing white bandannas and plate armor, he was
becoming more and more convinced Annette was completely right.
"So she tried attacking you?" One of the soldiers, a man, asked.
"'Tried' being the key word," another man, with a distinctly British
accent answered smugly. "The two snipers did the trick; completely
disoriented her. She really does burst into purple energy though,
kinda unsettling, I'll admit."
Latrell could agree. Seeing Annette wrap her arm in that energy
while the skin melted and warped around it was something he
wouldn't forget, nor wanted to. He wondered how she could endure
it, though by the sounds of things, it'd seem that she hadn't had
much of a choice in the matter.
"So what can she actually do?" Another asked, a woman this time.
"Control people and shoot purple energy?"
"That we know of," the British man confirmed. "But we don't know
exactly what. Why do you think she's still sedated?"
"True," the first voice agreed. "Though I'm more worried we're going
to kill her with an overdose at this point. That's enough sedatives for
a tiger."
"Better safe than sorry," the British man said, sounding like he was
shrugging. "Don't know about you, but I'd like to keep my mind."
She at least looked like she was sleeping peacefully, her chest rising
and falling while the machine beside her beeped at regular intervals
as it injected the drugs into her wrists. All he needed to do was pull
out one of them and it might weaken it enough to wake her up. The
only problem was that there was no way he could do that without
being noticed.
For a brief moment, no one was looking at him and he scooted a few
inches closer to her. By the time someone looked back, he was
completely relaxed as if nothing had happened. "You're awfully
quiet," the British man said, eyeing him warily. "Nothing to say?"
"I'd ask you to let us go," Latrell answered sarcastically. "But it'd
probably be a waste of breath. I know how you kind of people
operate."
"Blame your girlfriend for dragging you into this," he replied. "Our
orders were to take anyone with her into custody. That includes you,
this time."
"Yes, I should definitely blame the woman who ran away after being
experimented on," Latrell snarled. "Flawless logic there. Truly."
"Cut the snark," the woman growled. "She's dangerous. She isn't the
same woman you knew."
Latrell didn't even bother to respond to that. What really could they
say that would explain any of this? How could they possibly justify it?
He was thinking up a suitable retort when the ground shook and the
unmistakable sound of an explosion reached his ears. He smiled.
"Sounds like you have company."
Three of the soldiers stood. "You two stay here," the British man
ordered as he opened the door and jumped out with two others
flanking him. Latrell knew this would be his one opportunity and
quickly slid across near Annette and tried maneuvering his bound
hands to try and find one of the tubes. His fingers grasped one and
he gave a sharp pull.
Realizing his time was up, he quickly slid back to his first position as
the two remaining soldiers knelt in the middle of the truck, their
weapons trained on the door as more explosions and the sounds of
weapons fire entered the truck. He glanced over at Annette, still
sleeping peacefully and hoped that she'd wake up sooner than later.
"Couldn't you block it's attempts?" Garen asked, one of the two
Armenians on the squad.
"I'm sure it's possible," Patricia answered with a shrug. "But I'm not
sure I'm strong enough, and I'd prefer not to test that on the
battlefield."
"A wise choice," Veronika stated with a nod. "Study our enemy, then
slit it's throat and kick it back down to hell." She brought a finger over
her throat for emphasis, sounding awfully proud of herself. Patricia
bit her lip as she tried not to chuckle. Veronika was almost a walking
Russian woman stereotype and she found it kind of funny.
The woman was at least as tall as her, and probably much stronger.
She spoke with a heavy accent and seemed to sincerely enjoy the
prospect of killing aliens, or anything else for that matter. Still, she
seemed like a nice woman, provided you didn't make her angry,
which was a distinct possibility. She held very strong opinions on
certain topics.
"Copy that."
They flew in silence for a few minutes until Big Sky spoke. "I've got a
visual," he began, then whistled. "Wow. They're really going to war.
EXALT has a small army fighting at one end of the dam. The aliens
have set down two UFOs on the other side cutting them off."
" Hard to tell," Big Sky answered. "But EXALT seem to be holding
their own. The aliens are sending Mechtoids over now, so we'll see
how long that lasts."
Ralph Tritagor checked the safety of his rifle. The Marine Raider
enjoyed calibrating his weapons on his own, claiming they always
worked better for him that way. Patricia didn't particularly care as
long as he followed orders. "I think they're in for a surprise," he said,
his voice a higher pitch than she would have expected. "If they're
sending Mechtoids, that means they still likely have outsiders in
reserve."
"Good point," Patricia agreed, nodding approvingly towards him.
"We'll clear out the UFOs on the end first, then move forward."
" I'll set you down on top of one," Big Sky told her. "The dam also
has watchtowers of sorts throughout the road. Lesedi might like
that."
Patricia imagined the South African woman grinning at that. "Oh yes,
I would."
" Then get ready to deploy," Big Sky stated as they immediately
dipped. "We're coming in hot!"
French-German Border
The unnatural pulsing of the alien UFO began the instant her boots
hit the shimmering metal, immediately boring into her mind. She was
fairly certain she was more sensitive to it since she was a psionic.
Everyone else hit the top of the UFO a few seconds later, their
weapons raised and Patricia took a quick moment to observe the
situation.
Chaos was the optimal description. The highway was littered with
crashed cars, trucks and semis, all strewn haphazardly across the
road. A good portion were either on fire or almost scorched beyond
all recognition. There were no civilians alive she could see, either
they'd somehow escaped or were corpses.
Wonderful.
She quickly sensed the inside of the UFO and smiled. Sectoids.
Pilots most likely. Well, unfortunately for them she knew every
possible weakness they had. She'd been inside the Mind of a Hive
Commander, a few mindless drones were nothing.
She nodded and clenched her hand into a fist as she entered the
minds of the first group. Now what would be the best way to deal
with them? She could debilitate them with pain, or force them to
commit suicide… but why do that when she could order them to do
whatever she wanted.
"Drop down now!" Patricia ordered as she lowered herself onto the
cracked concrete and took a position by the first UFO entrance. The
rest of them followed suit within seconds, Veronika taking the
opposite position.
Green plasma fire spat out and Patricia gritted her teeth and risked
peeking inside the UFO and wasn't surprised to see two outsiders in
cover behind the piloting consoles blasting away. Patricia would
prefer not to destroy the UFO itself, but some damaged equipment
was acceptable.
"Copy!" Veronika shouted and Ralph took her place and the rest of
them lined up behind them, waiting for the word. Patricia took a deep
breath and let the world become less vibrant, noisy and distracting,
instead focusing on the power within her. She tuned herself to the
minds of her squad, their senses, their feelings, and brought
everything into one cohesive union.
The plasma fire stopped for one seconds and that was all she
needed. She spun around the entrance and directed a deadly stream
of Gauss fire on the outsider and Ralph completed that directly
alongside her, all in perfect harmony. The rest of the soldiers had
already started moving when she did and were inside the UFO in
seconds.
Jamali, Garen and Renato took positions behind the short alloy
barriers within the ship and added to the barrage, their minds
connected as they systematically locked down the outsider
preventing it from moving even an inch without being utterly
annihilated. As it was the sheer volume of fire was shredding the
consoles they were hiding behind.
Veronika and Yeva dashed right behind the elevated control deck
where the outsiders were trapped. Yeva fired a blast which somehow
missed the leftmost outsider, but did force it to back up to deal with
the new threat. It was immediately hit by Garen and Ralph, the force
of the rounds cracking its head and back.
Veronika fired two quick bursts at the other outsider, the first of which
hit its chest which sparked and cracked, and the second volley
slammed into it's head, shattering it into pieces as the supercharged
metal shards eviscerated it like cheap steel. Yeva fired another volley
at the now exposed outsider which slammed into its upper chest and
neck. Everyone had turned their fire to the remaining outsider and
within seconds it was torn apart by the hundreds of rounds directed
into it.
She needed to become more powerful, and that would only come
with practice.
One of them was grazed several times by gauss fire but managed to
get into cover behind a truck. The other took position behind the
UFO entrance itself and began returning fire. Patricia began to feel
the pressure became unbearable and dropped her autorifle and
focused on maintaining the connection just a little longer.
Her fists clenched, she felt it stabilize and observed Ralph and
Renato begin laying down suppressive fire on the outsiders, while
Jamali and Garen pulled out twin symbiote grenades and tossed
them towards the two outsiders at the same time. At the same time
Veronika and Yeva took advantage of the soon-to-be pinned
outsiders and charged around the vehicles for flank shots.
With that done Patricia finally let the connection break and staggered
as the realities of the world entered her at blinding speeds. Her
vision briefly swam and she stumbled against the car she'd been
taking cover behind. Everything seemed so much louder as it all
rushed back into her. Someone helped her up. Jamali . Yes, that's
who she felt.
She took a moment to regain control, closed her eyes and opened
them again as the squad gathered around her. "You ok?" Garen
asked, concern emanating from him.
"Fine," she breathed as she turned her attention forward. "That just
takes a lot out of me."
"What the hell was that," Ralph asked incredulously. "That was… I've
never experienced anything like it. That was you?"
"Yes," Patricia grunted as she raised her autorifle. "I was helping
you."
" Ask questions later," the Commander interjected. "You might want
to end this battle soon. It appears that the explosions are weakening
the dam. If it gets worse, it might break."
"On it!" She confirmed and began dashing towards the nearest
watchtower. Patricia motioned everyone behind her and they moved
forward. EXALT was still putting up a good fight, but the amount of
fire and explosions had definitely diminished. Patricia saw that the
sectoids she'd directed had died, though not before seemingly taking
out a mechtoid. One cyberdisks was still in the air, will most of the
drones.
The floaters were dead from what she could see, but there were still
at least eight mutons pressing the attack. The massive mechtoid was
holding back, and had turned around to presumably face them. It
raised it's weapons confidently as they approached. But it contained
a sectoid, and sectoids were nothing to her.
She gathered the power around her and pushed into the mind of the
mechtoid, or what was left of it. It was interesting, far different than a
MEC which was the easiest comparison. It was a complete sectoid
mind, not diminished in any way from a regular mind. And that made
it vulnerable. Lower your weapons . She sent, pressing that
instruction into its mind.
The massive alien hesitated and then did so. React to nothing. She
emphasized as her squad opened fire on the mechtoid. She locked
down it's mind as it struggled to react as the rounds tore it's
mechanics apart, ravaged it's body and brought with it debilitating
pain. Yes, the sectoid encased it this metal shell still felt pain.
And she used it against it, amplifying everything it felt. The slightest
scratch felt like boiling acid, a direct hit was like getting amputated
with anesthetic. The alien screamed in her mind and audibly, the
shriek high-pitched and nothing she'd ever heard for an alien.
It's misery was finally ended when Yeva fired an alloy cannon blast
into it's face, turning the flesh and bone into mush. Patricia felt the
connection cut and observed the sparking mechanical wreck fall to
the ground with a massive thud. The cyberdisk above her exploded
from EXALT fire, and the drone closest to it was shot out of the sky
by Lesedi.
The remaining mechtoid was similarly affected, but it did it's best to
keep firing at them. Something she put an end to by taking control of
its mind the same as the other. Kill them, she directed, forcing it to
aim it's weapons at the mutons. Two plasma blasts from its cannons
annihilated one, Veronika killed another seconds later.
Lesedi shot the final drone out of the sky and the combined fire of
Ralph and Renato killed the last one. Patricia kept ahold of the
mechtoid's mind, keeping it idle as the battlefield became quiet. Alien
corpses and wrecks surrounded them, and she could see a large
amount of corpses where EXALT had established themselves.
Her left hand held up as a physical reminder she was controlling the
mechtoid, she walked towards the EXALT line which began backing
away as she had the mechtoid stand behind her. They raised their
weapons as her squad came up and took positions. There were only
fifteen of them left, and she could feel their apprehension and fear.
They wouldn't surrender. She could sense that much. Afraid they
might be, but surrender was one word they didn't know. There was
only one way this would end. She prepared to give the order when
the sound of a door being ripped off its hinges broke the silence.
Patricia watched in surprise as a woman sheathed in purple energy
jumped out, her face contorted in fury, her eyes glowing a vibrant
purple.
More importantly, it seemed she had a score to settle with them, and
what she was seeing was any indication, Patricia did not want to risk
stopping her.
"Kill the mechtoid," she ordered, as she kept watching. "I don't think
we'll need it."
EXALT.
She suspected she had Latrell to thank for her awakening. Stupid of
EXALT not to consider him a threat. He'd done his part.
"Hey?" The soldier said, her voice sounding concerned. "Are you
alright."
She smiled as she heard a pistol shot and a few seconds later she
felt herself being turned over and the restraints being taken off, the
soldier performing his instructions with no hesitation. Once Latrell
was free as well, she stood and faced the soldier who was standing
in the middle of the truck. Any effects of the sedatives were wiped
away as she gathered her power.
"Thank you," she told Latrell, letting herself become enveloped in the
hate she felt for these people. "I'll finish this."
Her skin split apart as her arms were enveloped by acidic energy
that writhed around her. She let go of the soldier's mind whose eyes
filled with terror as he realized what had happened. "I'm going to kill
every single one of them," she hissed, drawing the power into her
hands and thrusting out.
A deep purple wave threw the man into the truck door with enough
force that it blew it off its hinges and into the front of another truck.
The man's limbs were contorted and it looked like his chest was
crushed. It didn't matter, the impact alone had killed him. Annette
leapt out and immediately saw a large number of EXALT soldiers.
Surprise and terror leaked off them and she drew on that. They were
right to be afraid of her, and now all of them were going to die. "She's
free!" One of them shouted as all of them scrambled back through
the street littered with burning vehicles. "Kill her!" Annette snarled
and thrust her arm toward the offending man who was thrown far into
the air and off the bridge they were on.
She then focused more energy to the hand that was holding the
soldier, and thrived from the pain she felt from him as the energy
ripped him apart. A few seconds later she tossed his ripped corpse to
the ground. Annette then directed the energy shears towards a small
group of three soldiers who were struggling to get up.
The last group of soldiers were actually running further into the
bridge, towards some more people in armor. But they seemed
distinctly different. And weren't helping. Enemies? It didn't matter, if
they attacked her, they'd die to. As it stood now, Annette extended
her arms towards the fleeing soldiers, purple energy wrapping
around their bodies forcing them to collapse to the ground, writhing
in agony.
She ceased the flow of energy and let their bleeding bodies shut
themselves down on her own and turned her attention to the last
soldier, a woman cowering close to the edge of the bridge. Her
weapon was clearly tossed away, as if that would save her. Encased
in purple flame, Annette walked slowly towards her, enjoying her
terror that practically dripped off her.
"Stop! Please!" The woman begged. "I was just following orders!"
" You were," Annette growled as she grabbed her throat with a
glowing hand. "And you will die because of that."
The woman screamed as Annette directed the writhing energy into
her body, cutting, slicing, and crushing her skin, organs and bones
into smaller pieces. Blood spurted from her multiple wounds onto
her, but Annette didn't care. She kept the speed her body was torn
apart slow, so this woman would feel every part of her slowly being
destroyed.
She didn't know how much time had passed. Minutes or hours, she
didn't know, nor care. The woman was still alive, and would be
screaming had she a throat left. At this point she was barely more
than a bloody, blinded and hairless husk of a human. She would die
soon, but she still had a couple minutes before her body shut down
completely.
Annette let go of her neck and let the body of the female EXALT
soldier fall to the ground. Confident she'd never rise, she turned her
attention to the other group of soldiers, one of whom was coming up
to her. Her red armor was scratched and covered in dust, soot and
alien blood, but it didn't seem to be EXALT.
"You can stop now," she told her quietly, raising her hands slowly to
take off her helmet. "I'm not going to hurt you."
The woman took off her helmet and tucked it under her arm. She
actually didn't seem that much older than her. Her chestnut hair was
put up, and her face was smooth and seemed concerned. Like she
cared.
XCOM.
The woman raised her left hand, the back of it facing her. Annette
watched with amazement as it shimmered with a faint purple energy.
"Because I'm like you, Annette," she assured her. After a few
seconds she let it fade and let her hand drop to her side.
"You're like me," Annette repeated numbly, not quite believing what
was happening. "Then you know what it's like…"
"All too well," she said, extending a hand. "I'm Patricia, XCOM Psion.
We can help you, and your boyfriend who's coming out of the truck
now."
"Don't worry," Patricia assured her as she led them back across the
road. "You won't have to run or hide anymore. You're safe now."
After-Action Report
Operation: Deluge
Personnel:
Status: Active
Kills: 4
Status: Active
Kills: 1
Grizzly 3: Specialist Lesedi Iminathi
Status: Active
Kills: 4
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Status: Active
Kills: 1
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 0
Artifacts Recovered:
Personnel Recovered:
-Annette Durand
-Latrell Moreau
Dark Mirrors
Dark Mirrors
Apathy . Apathy and contempt . That was what stood out to her. For
all his talk about her assumed superiority, he was the embodiment of
it. But the stark difference was that she believed it. It didn't matter to
him what her position was or how much power she wielded on this
planet. In the end, she was human and subject to her physical and
personal failings and that was something the Ravaged One had no
sympathy for.
That was a word she'd never ascribed to herself. Not once. Even in
the worst situations, she always had some idea of what the right path
was. Some idea that made rational sense. But not here. What were
the options? Help the aliens and betray her planet, or refuse and get
everyone and everything that mattered to her destroyed or killed?
The Ravaged One had been right. She'd been arrogant and that
arrogance and superiority had blinded her. She could clearly
remember at the beginning, back when she was confident that she
would be the one to fulfill their ultimate goal of taking control of the
world. That she would be the one to outwit the aliens, use them as
pawns, and discard them when finished.
But she'd been outplayed. The Elders had tricked her, played to her
superiority and pride in EXALT superiority. They used her as an
unwitting puppet and she kept foolishly pushing and pushing, so sure
she was in control, and they'd humbled her in the most effective way
possible. What use was everything they had if one lone alien could
tear it all down just by entering?
That question had entered her mind several times. She'd been the
instigator of this mess and should face the consequences. But then
she'd be risking the future of EXALT, leaving it in hands of a possible
alien puppet. At least with her, she'd never willingly betray humanity,
but she fully believed the Ravaged One when he said they'd find
someone to replace her. They existed, even in EXALT.
But was that a good reason to stay? Because she knew better? If
anything, recent events had clearly proven otherwise. Maybe
someone new was needed.
She'd rallied against the Ravaged One's declaration that she cared
about nothing but power… but now wasn't really sure what to think
about that anymore. Why was she doing this? Why did she want to
become Director in the first place?
Because she had a vision for EXALT. A plan. A goal. She felt like she
was best suited to lead EXALT. That's what she'd believed her entire
life, but she'd have been lying if she said she didn't enjoy the power
and authority her position entailed. She'd always taken satisfaction in
utilizing it against her opponents or enemies in inferior positions.
But was that the only thing that mattered to her? No, that she could
say for certain. But it had become a bigger part of her than she
realized.
Maybe.
"Saudia?"
Ethan's voice. She hadn't even heard him come up. She turned to
see Ethan coming in from the doorway, in his unarmored uniform.
He'd managed everything at the base while she'd recovered, and
now she felt incredibly bad that he was the one holding everything
together. She needed to get back to work soon, no matter how she
felt.
He'd kept his distance, knowing that she'd needed time on her own.
But right now she didn't want to be alone, she needed someone else
to ask what to do because she didn't trust herself right now. So
instead of giving some kind of answer, she walked over and pulled
him into a hug.
He seemed surprised, and for good reason. She never did anything
like this, at least not when things were stressful. That had been
reserved for more intimate moments, never simply for comfort. But
he seemed to get over it quickly and returned it, both of them
relaxing against each other for an indeterminate amount of time.
He gave a small smile and led her over to the edge of the bed where
they both sat down. "Yes you do," he told her. "You just haven't
realized it yet. You have a solution to every problem, no matter
what."
She sighed. "Maybe I do," she paused for a second. "Should I step
down?"
She looked over at his shocked face, eyes wide and eyebrows
raised. "What?"
Ethan was silent for a moment. "Why are you talking about it like
everything is your fault?" He asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.
"You are the Director, but the decisions that led to this point were not
unilateral."
"But I'm the one who pressed them," Saudia insisted. " I'm the one
who insisted on using the aliens. I'm the one who continuously
underestimated XCOM. I was overly arrogant and this is a direct
result of that."
"You convinced them to agree with you," Ethan pointed out. "For
what we knew, the arguments you posed were good. You never
forced anyone to agree with you, that's not how you work, you never
have. You're one of the few Directors I know of who doesn't make
unilateral decisions that affect us."
"Do you really think they believe that?" Saudia demanded wearily.
"They followed me because they trusted me. They believed I knew
what I was doing. Look where that's gotten us."
Saudia pursed her lips. "But I don't know how to fix it. One way
makes us traitors to our species, and the other will get us all killed."
"The only two feasible ones," Saudia defended hotly. "We can't
exactly do nothing."
"So come up with one," he said, leaning over and giving him a quick
kiss on the cheek. "We need you to take charge again, Director.
You'll figure this out, I know it." He nodded towards the bed. "C'mon,
we're both exhausted and won't figure out anything tonight."
She smiled. "I guess that's a good idea." Both of them repositioned
and laid out flat on the bed, Saudia curled up against him, head
resting on his shoulder with his arm around her. She felt she needed
to say something since tomorrow they might not have time. "I love
you." She whispered.
She felt him pull her a little closer. "I love you too, Saudia."
She smiled in the darkness and took some comfort in that. Both of
their admissions weren't really useful in the real world, but right now
she felt they both needed to hear it. As Ethan quickly fell asleep, she
remained fully aware, her eyes focused sightlessly outward as she
listened to his rhythmic breathing.
Her mind worked furiously, trying to figure out some kind of solution.
All the pieces were available, they just needed to play them in the
right order. And the more she thought, about EXALT, the aliens,
XCOM, and the world, an answer slowly emerged.
It needed refining. But right now, it was the best they had.
" And none of the EXALT soldiers… survived?" The Speaker asked.
" I suppose that is to be… expected, given what she likely endured,"
the Speaker conceded. "Where is she now?"
" Is she stable?" The Speaker asked. "There is likely mental trauma
from such an… event."
" Has she revealed anything of import?" The Speaker asked. "If
EXALT is fielding human psionics of their own…"
The Commander hesitated. "From what she's said, no. They're still
experimenting. Though she did reveal she wasn't the only one they
had."
" That is… concerning," the Speaker muttered. "Though your team is
to be commended for completing the mission so… efficiently."
He disliked leaving out details like that, but he couldn't trust certain
elements of the Council not to use that against him. "There is
another matter that needs to be discussed."
The Speaker was silent for a few moments. "That is… worrying. The
Council requests that you send the footage of the encounter as soon
as possible."
"It will be done," the Commander nodded. "But the reason I bring this
up is because the Ethereal might strike again, and the Council
should be prepared for that eventuality. We are working to develop
counters to it, but as of this point, we do not have a reliable means to
defeat it."
" You understand what you are saying, Commander," the Speaker
warned. "This does not instill confidence, regardless of your recent
performance."
"In that case, please ask the Council to make up it's mind," the
Commander stated wearily. "Do they want me to lie to them or not?
Were this less serious I would not mention it until a solution was
developed. But as it stands, the Council needs to know the
precarious nature of the situation and prepare accordingly."
About time they realized that. Maybe the Council was finally not
going to be something to worry about. Maybe China leaving was a
blessing in disguise. "That being said," the Speaker interrupted. "The
Council condemns the recent alliance between XCOM and Taiwan,
and recognizing it as an independent state."
And just like that, the Council was back to being a problem. "Then
perhaps China should not have left the Council," the Commander
stated coldly. "In doing so they have put their pride ahead of
humanity. I will deal with them as is necessary, whether the Council
approves or not."
" I will convey that to the Council," the Speaker stated neutrally.
"Good luck, Commander. We will be watching."
The screen turned off and the Commander looked at it for a few
minutes. Well, that went as good as it could have. The Council might
prove to be a problem again, but he was well beyond considering
them a major concern anymore. If all went well, soon the Council
would be disbanded and XCOM would be funded in full by an
alliance with actual power.
"Not as far as I know," Blake answered. "I don't think she's been
concerned about that. Besides, I'd prefer not to say for certain until
we have data to back it up. I'm certain it's painful, but she seems to
have… accepted it, for lack of a better word."
That she had. If that demonstration at the dam was any indication,
she'd probably found a way to use it. "Is she stable?"
No, and that was a potential problem. While he didn't think she
posed a direct threat to him, he didn't trust Annette Durand,
especially if her mental abilities were as extensive as Patricia's. She
might learn things he didn't exactly want public yet. She was a
security risk, but she was also a tool he couldn't afford to remove.
"I want to talk to her now," the Commander said, walking towards the
door. "Monitor her for any psionic bursts."
"Will do," Blake promised.
The Commander opened the door and stepped inside. The doctor
that was speaking with Annette looked up, saluted and left
immediately. With her gone, the Commander looked at the woman
sitting in front of him. Cropped brown hair, oval face and the eyes of
a frightened animal. Blake hadn't exaggerated; her arms were
scarred to such an extent he would have thought they were a result
of third-degree burns or acid if he hadn't known better.
Her mental pain tolerance must be higher than his if she could move
them normally without screaming. Impressive.
"Ah, yes, Commander," she said with a quick nod. "Thank you for
bringing me here."
"Of course," the Commander inclined his head. "I don't know what
exactly you endured with them, but rest assured that we are no
friends of EXALT."
"I know," Annette nodded quickly. "It's why we were trying to find
you," she nodded to Latrell. "We didn't know why, but EXALT is
worried about you, so it made sense to try and find you."
Really. Now that was interesting. "So why did you want to find us?"
The Commander asked. "Asylum? We can provide that if you wish.
EXALT won't find you here."
"Correct," the Commander answered slowly. "You won't like this, but
EXALT is not our directive. We've taken steps to reduce its influence,
and have actually begun crippling its media network over the past
few days. But we've reach a point where EXALT does not pose a
direct threat to us. The aliens do, and that threat is much more real
than what the media says. I apologize, but EXALT is not a priority
military target unless they decide to attack us again."
Annette scowled, but said nothing immediately. "What about after the
aliens are gone?" She finally asked.
"Then EXALT will be dealt with," the Commander assured her. "I
won't have the world influenced by a shadow organization.
Especially one what commits atrocities that both of us have
experienced."
"Good enough," she said, looking him in the eyes. "Then let me help
you fight the aliens. EXALT can wait, or they'll die on their own. In
the meantime, I can give you information about EXALT, where I was
held and more."
"No," the Commander stated bluntly. " All orders. Even ones you
disagree with. Especially those. I am lenient to a point, Annette, but I
will not tolerate soldiers dying because of your refusal to follow my
orders, or those of any other overseer. Your psionic powers do not
grant extra privileges. Rank is earned here, not given."
"Point taken, Commander," she nodded. "My decision hasn't
changed."
The Commander smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. That offer extends to
you as well, Moreau."
"Now, with that out of the way," the Commander began, turning his
attention back to Annette. "Let's discuss your time with EXALT in
more detail."
"So what did you find?" Cerian demanded as Ren pulled up a chair.
"I just got back," Ren protested as he sat down. "Are there any
water-"
"Way ahead of you," Olivia interrupted, tossing him one of the water
bottle and pulled up a chair beside them. He caught it easily. "Now
come on. I'm really curious what you learned about this guy."
"Very little, actually," Ren answered as he opened the bottle and took
a sip. "I'm pretty sure he's not formally involved in Solaris Industries
itself, though he's pretty much allowed anywhere."
"That was my job," Ren pulled over the map of Seattle and circled a
location with a red marker. "This is where he lives. Oddly secluded,
but good for us."
"Not that I saw," Ren disagreed with a shake of his head. "I checked
the place out several times. No security. No guards. It's something
you'd expect from a civilian, not an intelligence officer."
Cerian frowned. That went against every instinct he had. But if that
was the case… and he did trust Ren… then he wouldn't complain.
"Interesting. And you have a daily pattern set up?"
"Of course," Ren confirmed easily, pulling a piece of paper from his
pocket. "Leaves around ten, wanders around the city, talks to
random people, gets back between six and ten. He'll also usually
stop by Solaris Industries at least once."
"At least not on the outside," Ren corrected. "He might have some in
the room itself, but we can scan for those easily."
"Then we'll do that," Cerian confirmed. "The rest of them are setting
up for the actual infiltration. Whoever this guy is, we'll soon find out
and use that to help us."
"Just in case, what do we do if he actually shows up?" Ren asked,
getting up.
With that all of them went to sleep and awoke at the planned times
without and problems. They'd discussed the plan at length well
before now, the last night was mostly a formality and confirmation.
Cerian wanted to know what that man had, and to accomplish that,
they had to break into where he lived.
Simple enough, and in the unlikely event he showed up, Cerian was
certain that he could beat him. He may be an old man, but that guy
really was old. Likely not in as good of shape either. And with Ren
and Olivia backing him up, Cerian was confident they could handle
whatever they encountered.
The drive itself took almost an hour, but they had plenty of time
before the man showed back up according to Ren. The place the
apartment was wasn't that bad, overall. It wasn't luxury, but neither
was it a shady dump. It was simply a nice, middle-class, apartment
complex. Cerian even saw children playing in the streets.
"So, who's staying here?" Ren asked as he parked. "I know this area
a bit better, so I'm up for it."
"You sure you don't want to see what's inside?" Olivia asked
humorously as she checked her concealed pistol.
"I'm sure I'll hear all about it," Ren responded, rolling his eyes. "Go
on. Let's try to get this done as soon as possible. I don't want today
of all days to be the one he decides to come home early."
"Well, that's why you'll warn us," Cerian reminded him, opening the
door. "Come on, Olivia."
She nodded and they both walked slowly down them until they
reached the end and it broke into a bedroom on the left, and
bathroom on the right. Cerian looked in the bedroom and his lips
curled into a smile. A suitcase was on the ground by the bed, and off
to the corner was a file cabinet and setting on the nightstand was a
laptop.
While she did that, he knelt down by the cabinet and opened it. To
his surprise, it was packed. Rows upon rows of files filled it. All of
them were ordered in symbols he'd never seen, and he pulled one
out at random to see what it said.
He glanced over to see Olivia still getting the data from the laptop
and thumbed through some of the other files. By accident his finger
caught on a paperclip, and on closer inspection, saw that it attached
a photo to one of the files. Might as well see what it showed. Cerian
pulled it out and raised an eyebrow as he saw who it was.
"Yeah, like what that… language… is and why he's keeping a file of
a long-dead Soviet," Olivia added, appraising the file closely. "This is
really odd, Cerian. I don't like it."
"I'll keep this one, to see if we can decode it," Cerian said, shooting a
glance towards the door. Olivia was right, everything here was very
odd. From the lack of security, sanitized rooms and files of dead
dictators, he was getting a bad feeling. He didn't think it was a trap,
Ren would have given some kind of warning, but he didn't think they
should stay longer than necessary.
"Done," Olivia stated, pulling out the flash drive and closing the
laptop. "We've got what we needed. Mary can dig through it later."
"Let's get out of here," he agreed, standing up and with the flash
drive pocketed, Olivia joined him as they walked out of the room.
Everything was still the same, and as they approached the door, he
felt they were almost home clear.
Within seconds they had their silenced pistols out and aimed at the
old man who was leaning nonchalantly against the far wall. Cerian
internally cursed for not looking there when they'd entered. Rookie
mistake and he wasn't sure how he could have forgotten it.
The man smiled. "All you had to do was ask, Cerian. What exactly
do you want to know from me? After all, I clearly don't pose a threat."
"How you knew about us, for starters," Olivia growled. "Preferably
any other EXALT secrets you have. Though I think we'll have plenty
of time for that later."
"Ah, yes, your plan for if I showed up here," the man said knowingly.
"Capture, or if not possible, kill. Standard in this line of work."
"How did you know that?" Cerian demanded icily, stepping forward.
No one should have known that outside his team.
"Simple," the man tapped the side of his head with a finger, smiling.
"I read your mind."
Cerian and Olivia were both silent initially, not quite sure how to react
to that answer. "Perhaps you'll be less in the mood for jokes when
we question you," Olivia muttered. "While funny, we don't have time
to deal with them."
The Chronicler sighed. "I did warn you, but perhaps that was
pointless. We humans are not a rational species when it comes to
verbal warnings. We need to see proof, consequences, and I
suppose that is what you need now, Cerian Irelan. A demonstration."
Cerian pursed his lips and took a few steps forward when he spotted
something that made him freeze and his blood run cold. The
Chronicler's irises were glowing a vibrant purple. What the-
"Drop the gun," Olivia ordered, raising her pistol at him, her face
expressionless and her own irises a lighter purple.
Cerian wasn't the type to panic or give into fear. He was too well
trained for that. But for the first time in years he felt genuinely
unsettled and afraid. He'd miscalculated badly. Not that this should
have been possible, but it was clear reality didn't care what he'd
presumed. "Olivia…" began quietly. "This isn't you. He's making you
do this."
The purple light faded from his eyes and Olivia stumbled forward
with a gasp, tossing the pistol away frantically. "This is your final
warning," the Chronicler stated. "I don't want to kill you, but I will if
you continue this misguided crusade. The aliens will be coming, and
they are the threat. Leave, because the next time I see you will be
your last."
"I think so," Cerian admitted quietly. "We need to get out of here."
She was in full agreement and both of them practically ran down the
stairs and towards the car, only to skid to a stop once they saw Ren.
"No…" Olivia whispered as she looked at his corpse. The pistol was
in his hand, and blood was leaking out of his head, both the
windshield and windows were splattered with blood.
"A final warning," Cerian observed, looking sadly at the body,
wondering what to do now. "We need to reconsider what to do.
Otherwise he'll just kill all of us."
"Of course not," Cerian scowled. "But we need a plan, and we can't
do it here."
"Then let's get back," Olivia growled. "He'll die for what he did to me
and Ren."
Cerian certainly hoped that would happen, but someone like the
Chronicler would not be easy to deal with, especially if he figured out
their plan again. There were some tough decisions to be made, and
he wasn't sure at the moment what the right ones were.
Myra was waiting, right on time. The recruits for the MEC program
had arrived and this was something he was going to see to
personally. It was unfortunate that Shen hadn't managed to
overcome the loss of personality in the procedure, but until they
could dedicate time to solving that, it would have to remain as such.
They also sadly had more pressing problems to deal with first.
"Does that hurt?" The Commander asked, walking up. Myra showed
no surprise at his voice, simply flicking the wrist back to the natural
state and turning to face him, immediately falling into a salute.
"No, Commander," she answered. "It does not."
"At ease," he told her, motioning her to walk down the hallway. She
fell into step beside him, her mechanical feet clanging on the ground
they walked. She'd abandoned traditional clothing, which made
sense since almost every part of her was covered up, barring the
head and even that had been modified to an extent.
"There are four new candidates for the MEC program," he answered,
glancing to her expressionless face. "Shen has already briefed them
on the essentials, but you've actually experienced it. I think they
could get a better idea of what to expect if you explain it to them."
"Yes, Commander."
They walked for a few minutes. "How are you doing?" The
Commander finally asked. "I haven't asked for a while. Are the
prosthetics still holding up?"
"I know that," the Commander sighed. "I was asking beyond that.
From the sounds of things you've been spending almost all of your
time in the Cybernetics Lab."
"You take care of your body, Commander," Myra responded. "I do the
same to mine."
Hmm. The Commander was pretty sure that wasn't healthy, but then
again, he wasn't sure ordinary human mental issues could be
applied to MEC soldiers. Hopefully she'd now have some others to
interact with once the new volunteers were converted. They came up
to the Cybernetics Lab and the circular door hissed open.
Both arms were heavily weaponized. The right one seemed to have
a fully-loaded and enhanced rocket launcher and the other looked to
be a modified grenade launcher. Both shoulders had a small suite of
micro-missiles and attached to the back looked to be a kind of
collapsed artillery cannon. Shen certainly had fulfilled his goal of an
artillery-focused MEC.
That was the most impressive thing he'd seen so far today, until he
looked towards the middle of the room where the majority of
construction was taking place. He whistled as he saw what was
actually being built. "I didn't realize Shen started construction on
that," he muttered. Myra looked over to where he was watching and
nodded.
"Ah, yes," she said. "He finished final passes of the Goliath-class
several days ago. I'm certain he notified you, by message if nothing
else."
That was actually very likely, but given the hectic past few days it
wasn't a surprise he'd missed it. Shen had probably assumed he'd
read it. Not that he'd needed approval anyways. Even from just the
outline, he could tell that the Goliath would live up to its name.
Whereas the Ballista-class was probably fifteen feet, minimum, the
Goliath looked to be nearly twice that.
Right now, the biggest issue he saw was how they were ever going
to be able to transport that thing. Well, he'd question Shen on that
later. Time to go to him.
The Head Engineer was still talking to the small group, and paused
once he saw the Commander and Myra walking up. All the
volunteers also turned around, giving the Commander his first good
look at them. All of them were combat veterans, with injuries severe
enough to be discharged. But it was different reading the injuries and
seeing them up close.
Two of them, Franklin and Amahle, from America and South Africa
respectively, were in wheelchairs. Franklin had been paralyzed in a
crash from an IED when stationed in Israel, and Amahle had been
forced to amputate her legs after she'd been shot in both, and had
become infected in the dangerous African jungles.
Sanya, the Russian Spetsnaz was missing his right arm, which had
been the result of a crime gang using a chainsaw in self-defense.
Judging from the scars on his face, it seemed lucky an arm wasn't
the only thing he lost from that encounter.
The only one who was physically 'whole' was Duygu, the former
Turkish combat engineer. His entire body was covered up, and the
Commander knew it was likely to hide the scarring that covered his
body. He'd been nearly killed by a flamethrower, burning most of the
skin off his body and leaving him unable to feel anything aside from
pressure.
"It seems the Commander is here," Shen said, motioning to him. "I
think he'd like to say a few things."
In what seemed like very little time, he arrived at the Labs and
quickly saw where Vahlen was standing. It was in the corner, a very
messy corner, with papers, tables and electronic equipment
scattered around a black coffin-like pod.
She shook her head, biting her lower lip. "No… and I wanted to
request something before I do."
The Commander smirked. "Do you really need to? I trust you."
"Go ahead," he said. "Does that mean you think you're sensitive?"
"To be determined," Vahlen said, turning to face him. "I have a theory
about the probability of psionic potential, and regardless of my own
outcome, I'll get my answer. Better yet we'll be able to narrow down
the possible soldiers and not waste valuable time."
"Within the hour," she answered, with a small smile. "I did anticipate
you agreeing to it, but I did want to make sure. Hopefully you'll
manage without me."
The Commander chuckled. "We'll see. But it'll be different, even for a
few days."
"I'm sure you'll find some way to distract yourself," she said lightly,
walking up to him, only stopping until a few inches separated them.
"You'll be busy making peace between the Koreans, and figuring out
the best way to enhance our soldiers."
She smiled and looked up at him, placing a warm hand of his chest.
"Yes, you will. Wish me luck?"
He wanted to kiss her. The way she was looking up at him half-
expectantly indicated that she likely wanted the same thing. All he
had to do was do it and acknowledge what they'd been skirting
around for awhile now.
"Hopefully not for too much longer," he told her, serious as he'd ever
been. "But not until things calm down."
She gave a nod. "You as well, Commander. See you in a few days."
"All set up?" Jochern asked grimly as they prepare to put their plan
into motion. The first part was going to be the most difficult, and the
second just relied on their target following the same schedule as
always.
"No cameras?"
Or an ambush.
Abby sighed as she looked at her watch. Late, which figured. Really,
why should she have expected anything other from him? Fortunately
she didn't have to wait much longer and heard his footsteps as he
approached. He wore the same business attire as pretty much
everyone, though he couldn't even do that without his own "style."
Red. That was the color of his suit jacket, and not a subtle, tasteful
red either. No, this grabbed the attention of everyone in the vicinity.
His brown hair was stylishly combed back and he wore a customary
fake smile on his face. He was what she always imagined a con man
would look like. Flashy and fake.
She opened the file she'd been holding. Jochern should be moving
now. While Nathan wasn't a small man, she was fully confident he
could be taken down. Worst case, she'd help. "You ever heard of the
United America Super-Pac?"
Playing to his ego seemed to temper him a bit. "Let me see the file,"
he asked, extending a hand. She complied, and he began flipping
through it. Probably trying to determine the extent of the damage.
"How exactly did-"
He was cut off as Jochern came up behind him and wrapped a thin
rope around his neck and pulled. Nathan tried a back swing but it
didn't even get close and a few seconds later, he fell to his knees,
unconscious. While Jochern was taking care of him, Abby pulled on
her latex gloves and prepared to secure him. They didn't want to
leave any evidence.
Abby grabbed his legs and Jochern grabbed him by his chest and
together they threw him into the trunk of their car. Abby grabbed the
file and placed a lighter underneath it and let it burn to ash on the
parking garage floor. Their first job done, both of them entered the
car and quickly drove out of the station parking garage.
"Not necessarily," Abby warned. "If she is with EXALT, it's possible
she'd been trained in self-defense."
Fortunately, Amy lived pretty close to the studio, and within a half-
hour they were parked outside her house. Abby grasped the taser
and prepared to go talk to her. Jochern would be right behind her in
case it failed and she needed his help. Wasn't as elegant as she'd
have liked, but right now efficiency was more important than more
convoluted options.
She opened the car door and stepped into the evening California air.
This was a nice state, a shame she'd be leaving after today. Amy
had a pretty nice house, modest, but it made sense since she lived
alone, at least according to the intel Zhang had given her. She
knocked on the door twice, her latex gloves still on.
The door opened to reveal a somewhat surprised Amy. "Christine?"
She asked, eyebrows furrowing. "I wasn't expecting you."
Abby shook her head. "No, but I felt we should discuss what I have
in person."
Amy frowned. "All right, hold on. This place is a mess-" the instant
she turned around, Abby raised the taser and fired into her back.
She let out a small shout and collapsed to the ground, convulsing.
She'd set the shock level high enough that is should have knocked
her out completely. After turning her onto her back, that did appear to
be the case.
She grunted and hoisted Amy's limp body up, thankful her military
strength was still intact enough to pick up a grown woman. Jochern
was watching for witnesses and nodded to her that it was safe to
move out. She gave a silent nod in return and quickly carried her to
the car and threw her body inside the trunk with Nathan.
"All done," she said as they got back into the car. "Both targets
secure."
"Now comes the hard part," Jochern muttered as they began driving
towards the place where the interrogation was to take place.
Fortunately there was no shortage of abandoned buildings and
warehouses in the run-down parts of town. In those places, people
tended to leave others alone, regardless of what was taking place.
If it got loud, they should be fine. Abby had considered using the
small house they'd been in, but had quickly ruled it out since it wasn't
soundproof. Zhang didn't have any established locations, so they'd
eventually decided on an abandoned house a short distance from
where they were. Everything was set up, all they needed were the
captives.
"Will you actually go through with it?" Jochern asked, looking back at
her, his face expressionless. "If they don't talk…"
"Not that it matters much," Abby pointed out. "They're going to die,
regardless."
"I know," he ground out, then shook his head. "We both know where
we stand. No need to go over it again."
She agreed. He'd made his opinion on the whole situation very clear,
as had she. They differed and she knew she wasn't going to change
his mind. As long as he did his part, she'd assume responsibility for
the rest. Though honestly, she wasn't sure she actually could hurt
them if it came to it. Sure, she'd seen people tortured before, even
offered advice when pressed.
But the world wasn't as black and white as she'd been led to believe
growing up. Even as an adult there was a basic morality that was
mostly followed regardless of who they were. But all that really
couldn't apply to war. Things previously abhorred were used as the
norm, or at the very least not frowned upon.
And she understood that, she understood necessity now all too well.
But that still didn't make her feel any better as she pondered what
she was about to do.
They pulled into the torn up driveway and quickly got out and
removed their captives. Carrying them into the house only took a few
more minutes and they began strapping them to the two stretchers
set up in what had once been a living room.
Once they were both strapped in securely, they tilted the stretchers
so they were mostly vertical. If negotiation failed, they would move
them back horizontally. Abby put on her surgeons mask and after
making sure it was ready, put it under her chin. She wouldn't need
that quite yet. "Now we wait," she said, looking at the two captives.
They didn't have to wait too much longer. Nathan woke up first,
blinking and wincing as he tried to look around frantically, clearly
wondering where the hell he was. He blinked when he saw Abby and
Jochern. "Christine-"
"I'd advise you watch your tone," Jochern interrupted. "You don't
want to make her mad. Look, it's simple. Answer our questions and
everything will be fine. We have no interest in innocents here."
Her enhanced eyes caught the slight widening and intake of breath.
Interesting. "No." He stated, and had she not noticed that, she might
have even believed him.
"No," she began quietly, taking a couple steps towards him. "You're
lying."
Abby placed the tip of her scalpel on his jugular, barely applying any
pressure. He immediately went still as he felt a warm trickle run
down his throat. "You will bleed out within three minutes if I cut here,"
she told him quietly. "Let's be clear, I don't need you alive. It would
be nice, but my primary directive was to deal with the threat. Killing
you would accomplish that."
"Alright! Alright!" He shouted. "Yes! I heard that a few times. But just
the name! I swear I don't know anything about it!"
Abby stepped back and looked at him. He was clearly terrified now,
and at this point she didn't believe he was lying. "It wouldn't happen
to be from that Super-Pac I mentioned earlier, would it?"
He pursed his lips, remaining silent. Jochern shoot her a let me
handle this look and she decided to see what he did. "She's not
kidding," he told Nathan, walking in front of him. "She'll kill you if you
won't talk, just on principle. I personally prefer not to kill people,
makes life more difficult. But you do have to tell the truth. Look, we
wouldn't have brought you here if you were completely innocent to
begin with."
He pulled out a file and held it up. "We know you've been receiving
money from United America. We have enough evidence to put you in
jail for decades on corruption charges alone. Because of you we
have the opportunity to shape the entire Republican presidential
primary. You're not innocent here, Nathan. But the only way you
might get out of this is if you help us."
Abby was impressed at how easily and convincingly he told that lie.
It played directly to all the things that matters, less consequences,
attention, and public approval. "You would actually do that?"
"To the books, yes," Nathan answered. "But the donor is actually
very well known. You know Matthew Solaris?"
Yes. This was interesting. "I don't know who hasn't," Jochern said
incredulously. "Are you saying he's been funding United America?"
"Pretty much," Nathan confirmed. "I didn't hear anything about this
'EXALT' until a few months ago. Some of the board members were
wondering if Matthew had ties to that organization and asked me to
look into it. I did and found nothing. Last I ever heard of it."
He was telling the truth, she could tell it from his tone, eyes and
features. At least he believed he was telling the truth. It added up,
Solaris Industries wasn't going to be found out by one corrupt
journalist, but that did seem to raise the question of who EXALT was
really backing in the election.
Yeah, after this no way was Kamili the epitome of perfection and
incorruption she'd shown to the world. It was looking more and more
likely that she was a direct EXALT plant, and if that was the case,
action would have to be taken. Both Zhang and the Commander
were going to find this useful.
Abby quietly picked up one of her knives from the tray as Jochern
prepared to finish. Both of them knew what to do next, and Jochern's
tone audibly became subdued. "Thank you. Is there anything else?"
Abby stabbed him directly under the chin, turning his last words into
a gurgle. A few seconds later, he went still, his face frozen in
confusion for all time. Abby withdrew the blood-soaked blade and
looked down at her hand covered in blood. It had to be done, but she
felt sick.
It was the first time she'd ever killed someone for no other reason
than they'd seen her face.
Jochern looked at the body numbly. "We shouldn't have killed him."
"I know," she agreed quietly, setting the blade down on the tray. "But
at least it wasn't for nothing."
"Maybe," he said quietly. "But he didn't deserve to die for it. There
were other ways."
"We had orders," Abby shrugged, trying not to look at the corpse as
she cleaned her hands.
"Fuck orders," Jochern growled. "That was wrong and you know it."
Abby spun on him. "Yes it was. But what could we do about it, hm?
We had this conversation. Yell at Zhang later if you want, but stop
making this harder than it has to be!"
"Yes, sir," Jochern muttered sarcastically. "Get ready, looks like she's
waking up."
Abby looked over at Amy who was raising her head groggily. She
sighed and prepared for another interrogation. She walked over until
she stood in front of the chief editor who blinked rapidly as her vision
adjusted. "Christine?"
"You know who I am," Amy warned, growing more aware as she
looked around the abandoned house. "They'll be looking for me if I'm
missing for too much longer." She caught sight of Nathan's body and
the blood drained from her face. "You…"
"You weren't the only one we suspected," Abby told her, keeping her
voice firm. "We are not concerned with them finding you. Should you
refuse to cooperate, the police will find you in your house, having
tragically committed suicide while you were under the influence of
heroin."
"They'll never buy that," Amy stated. "What you're doing is illegal. If
the press were to learn of this, everything XCOM ever did would be
tainted forever."
Abby's lips curled up. "No, Amy. They won't. And frankly, we do not
care what the press does or does not think of us. We protect
humanity from all threats, human or otherwise. I suspect the press
will be more forgiving, should they ever learn of this operation, once
they learn we executed two EXALT plants."
"You think I'm part of EXALT?" She stated incredulously. " Me ?"
"I did find it interesting how your station was one of the few to refuse
to cover XCOM properly," Abby continued, looking her in the eyes for
any glimmer of falsehood. "It took a few of the papers I submitted to
really notice your… bias against them, and to be honest, it makes
little sense. Why would you dislike XCOM so much when they're
actively defending Earth?"
"Shut up," Abby growled, rolling her eyes. "Either you're lying or an
idiot. XCOM doesn't work that way if you haven't noticed. Or did you
miss the evidence they presented that they recovered from EXALT?
Or when they proved that video was fake? I don't believe you're an
idiot, Amy. So then, what are you?"
"What do you want from me?" Amy hissed, anger in her eyes.
Amy was silent for a few seconds. "No." She finally muttered,
refusing to look at her.
Abby sighed and turned to the table and picked up a small curved
medical hook. Pulling up her surgeons mask, she turned back to
Amy who was looking at her, mouth open as she realized what she
was intending. "No…" she whispered. "You wouldn't…"
She was still silent. Abby lowered the tip even lower until it was
almost scratching the eyeball and that was apparently enough. "All
right! Yes! Yes I'm part of them!" Abby drew back her hand and
looked at the woman. She was clearly terrified, tears forming in the
corners of her eyes. No, it didn't appear she was lying.
"Thank you," Abby said, moving again to stand in front of her. "Now
we need information. Names, locations, whatever you have."
"And what do I get?" Amy demanded. "If I help you, EXALT will kill
me. There's nowhere you can take me that they won't find."
Abby smiled. "You get to live, Amy, and we'll take care of you. If
EXALT really knows everything, then they would have found our
base by now. There are places you can be hidden."
They kept questioning her for the next three hours, asking every
possible question they could think of. She complied, believing they
would protect her. Most of the information they knew about in some
form, but was reconfirmed. While quite a lot of it was useless, all of it
was fascinating.
Jochern shot her a look of disgust which Amy thankfully missed, but
it still stung, because Abby knew that he was right.
Abby hadn't lied to Amy about one thing, she was going to be found
dead tomorrow due to an overdose; a lost battle with an addition no
one had suspected. But since she'd cooperated, Abby made sure
that the heroin overdose she was giving her would be quick and
hopefully painless. She didn't look away as she injected the drug into
her, even after she started convulsing.
But a few minutes later it was over and her head fell limply to the
side.
The hard part was done. Zhang would be very happy with them. Now
all they needed to do was make it look like an accident.
First the alien spy being captured, interrogated, and… well, Herman
assumed he was being held in a very secure location. Under guard
at least. Van Doorn had been reluctant to share exact details of the
conversation the Commander had had with him, but had provided
the cliff notes to deliver to the Council.
From what Van Doorn described, it did appear that the Ethereals
were as powerful as the alien had described. He hadn't seen the
actual footage, but he wasn't sure he'd wanted to. The Commander
had allowed him to review the document describing the incident and
it… wasn't pretty. Every soldier being mind-controlled and forced to
kill each other… that was not what he'd expected to be worried
about. No wonder the Commander had ordered a refocusing on
psionics.
That aside, he couldn't fathom what the Commander was thinking by
going to Taiwan. Oh, he knew, but he was frankly dealing with it
terribly. Making China angry wasn't going to help anything, and if the
Commander was crazy enough to recognize Taiwan, Mongolia might
be next. If he even thought about Tibet…
Of course, China knew who they were dealing with, and they actually
might fear the Commander enough to restrain themselves. He
sincerely hoped that was the case. But he couldn't imagine the
Council was happy about this. It set a dangerous precedent, and
showed that the Commander wouldn't tolerate countries he
considered treasonous.
All went well, and they'd have a working model to show the
Commander tomorrow. Lily had insisted on making some final
adjustments and asked him to pick up a tool only the hangar
engineers had. Since he'd been headed that way, he'd agreed.
Afterward Van Doorn had asked to see him. Why, he didn't know.
To his surprise it looked like one of the skyrangers had just landed
and the ramp was coming down. A couple XCOM soldiers he didn't
recognize walked out with a man Herman had never expected to see
here of all places. He actually had to do a double take as they
walked past, still not believing it. Yeah, he and Van Doorn needed to
talk now .
He quickly got the tool and almost ran back into the hallways. In fact,
he almost ran into Van Doorn as he rounded a corner. Van Doorn
was dressed in full military uniform, which he would have found odd
had he not just seen that man.
Herman had almost forgotten he was carrying the tool in his hand.
"Sorry, was a bit distracted. Why the hell is Supreme Leader Gwan
here?"
"Ah," Van Doorn said, clearly not sure how to answer at first. "You
saw him."
"It's not as bad as you think," Van Doorn placated, raising a hand.
"He isn't the only Korean dignitary to be coming. President Chia Seo-
jun will be arriving within the hour as well."
Herman looked at him incredulously. "And just why are the leaders of
North and South Korea here? Actually, how ?"
Van Doorn rubbed his forehead. "And since when has that deterred
the Commander? Supreme Leader Gwan actually contacted us and
the Commander spoke to him. I can't say more without approval…
but North Korea would be a major alliance. And if he helps ensure a
peace between the warring countries… that will likely offset a lot of
the fallout."
"The Council is not going to like being kept out of the loop on this,"
Herman muttered. "I've tried to keep the focus on the aliens, but
keeping secrets like this are incredibly hard to justify."
"And what would the Council have said?" Van Doorn asked wearily.
"Because I don't see it working out nearly as well as it did if they
intervened."
"So what if the talks fail?" Herman demanded. "Will you still ally with
either country?"
"Then I hope the peace talks work out," Herman muttered. "Because
the Council is going to eviscerate the Commander if he has XCOM
ally with North Korea alone."
The doors to his office hissed open and in she walked, flanked by
Samuel and Carmelita. The Korean woman was half a foot shorter
than him, her black hair professionally put up. She wore a simple
navy blue professional jacket and matching pants. Both soldiers
stayed at the door, saluted and walked away.
"XCOM will do what it can," he warned. "But the fate of the world
cannot be won by one organization alone. Even us." She nodded
once in agreement, but didn't elaborate. As the approached, Iseul
looked up and inclined his head towards Chia.
"How could they, when they've never known anything else?" Chia
shot back.
"You know what children are shown in our schools?" Iseul asked, the
barest hint of amusement in his voice. "Propaganda. Yours,
specifically. You can imagine how confused they are since what is
depicted isn't even close to reality. But I think it is essential in making
them recognize how much people will lie to fulfill an agenda. It helps
increase loyalty, efficiency and pride in their country."
"Or maybe that's what happened and you can't recognize it," she
shot back. "Facts can't change, Supreme Leader."
"I am not the one provoking this war," Iseul continued, his voice
growing quieter. "I simply respond to your aggression. How do you
expect me to respond when you attack my soldiers and cut power to
my cities? Ignore you?"
Chia hesitated. "That is true. And the situation has not changed in
the years either."
"I think we can both agree this is not in our best interests," Iseul said,
turning to her. "You may despise me if you wish, Madam President.
But I believe that we should devote our efforts to preventing this from
happening anywhere else."
Chia gave a small nod. "I believe you are right. At least in this. But if
we make peace, I want one thing from you."
He pursed his lips. "On the condition they do not speak to the press
or any other media outlet. The exchange would be quick and quiet.
Provide them with new identities, but I will not tolerate them
spreading more propaganda against me."
Chia scowled, and was lost in thought for a couple minutes before
she sighed. "Too much is at stake for ideals. Very well, Supreme
Leader, I'll accept your condition. But all of them. No less."
"It will be done," Iseul confirmed with a nod. "After our agreement is
formalized publically, I will contact your representatives to begin the
transfer."
"The end of a conflict continued for decades," Iseul added. "And the
start of a new one."
"That it is," Chia said. "Though there are major issues I have with
your country, may your own war with the aliens be victorious." She
extended a hand to him, which he took with a firm shake.
As for what that could be, the possibilities weren't very good. But at
least it had given him time to reflect on his own situation. He was
certain he wasn't going to be executed now, if the Commander had
decided that, it would have happened. Which brought up what he
was going to be used for. Because he was going to be used in some
way, the Commander wouldn't ignore a resource like him.
The problem Nartha suspected they were trying to work out was how
to use him while guaranteeing he wouldn't turn on them. He had no
intention of that, but the Commander was smart enough not to just
take his word for it. Frustrating, but understandable. He'd given
Zhang all the information he needed on how the Zararch worked,
and how to keep maintaining his cover to reduce suspicion.
"I had to see for myself," he answered grimly, eyeing the alien
closely. "I will say you played your part exceptionally well. I never
suspected you weren't human."
"It was my job," Nartha nodded. "I'd be a poor spy if I couldn't act."
"Hmm," he pursed his lips. "Though you couldn't really help injecting
your actual opinions sometimes. All our talks about the aliens, what
they were and what we'd do afterwards, what you said makes a lot
more sense in context."
"Perhaps," Samuel admitted. "Though I'm not sure it isn't fitting since
your kind wants to wipe us out."
Nartha raised an eyebrow. "I have no idea. Each one is unique as far
as I know. They don't hold the same strengths and weaknesses, if
they have any to begin with. The only ones who could even have a
chance are psions of similar strength…" he trailed off as several
possibilities came to him. "One is here, isn't it?"
Samuel reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded picture,
walked over and handed it to Nartha who opened it with dread. "It
certainly seems to be one," he continued as Nartha looked it over. "It
presumably wiped out the entire city, as well as everyone we sent to
investigate."
"I warned the Commander what they could do," Nartha scowled as
he looked the picture over.
"We didn't know it was an Ethereal until they made visual contact,"
Samuel defended. "But still, I didn't think death on that scale was
possible with only one Ethereal."
"It only takes one to subdue a species," Nartha muttered, letting his
hand fall to his side. "It appears this is the one chosen."
"No."
"I hope you succeed," Nartha said, sitting back down. "But XCOM
needs to figure out a way to kill them. If not, they've already lost."
"I'll be sure and mention that sound bit of advice to the Commander,"
Samuel muttered sarcastically. "Well, this was an interesting talk, but
I have things to do now. Goodbye, Soran."
Nartha smiled. "Tell her thanks when you see her. She'll know what I
mean."
"I'll do that," Samuel promised, then left the cell, leaving him alone
once more.
"I'm not sure how long this will take," Patricia told Harkin as she
gently moved the bed holding Creed slightly to the side. "Probably a
few hours."
"And if it doesn't?"
She heard the door close behind her and picked up her chair and set
it at the end of the bed. She sat herself down and with some
hesitation, placed her hands on the sides of Creed's face. He felt
feverish and hot, not good signs. This wasn't entirely necessary, but
having a tactile sensation would help her focus directly on the mind
she wanted to target, and she didn't need to make it harder on
herself.
She took a breath, closed her eyes, and let all the physical
sensations of the world fade.
She focused in on it, absorbing that reality as her own and suddenly
found herself standing alone in an empty black space. She'd entered
his mind, at least the initial portions. But unlike last time there was
nothing, at least at first.
There was a distortion right in front of her, barely visible, but she
walked forward and tentatively reached toward it. She refrained from
touching it at the last instant, not sure what she wanted from it.
Instead she focused on the disturbance and sensed… pain.
Whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant.
It wasn't a big one. Slightly larger than the one she'd had when she'd
briefly owned a house in London. There was an island in the middle,
while a sink, dishwasher and counters ran across the back of the
wall. There were two entrances, one which seemed to come from a
living room, and another to the left which lead into what she
presumed was another room.
It wasn't that clean either. Unwashed dishes had piled up on the sink
and counters. Half-eaten food rested on the kitchen table which was
in the right corner, and none of the counters looked wiped down;
flour, rice, drying vegetables all strewn about. A small chandelier
hung from the ceiling, florescent bulbs bathing the kitchen in harsh
white light, only adding a starkness to the scene in front of her.
There were two people, a woman and a boy. The woman looked
awful, her brown hair was unkempt and clothes dirty and stained with
what looked like green paint. Her skin seemed a much starker white
from the lighting, and her features were contorted in fury as she
towered over the boy.
The boy himself couldn't have been older than eight, with short black
hair and slightly tanned skin. He was holding a small paintbrush
dabbed in green, which Patricia assumed was the source of the
woman's paint stains. Right now he seemed terrified and that was
also when Patricia noticed the most alarming thing about the whole
scenario.
"Look what you did," the woman growled advancing on the boy.
"What did I tell you about your projects?"
"I'm sorry!" The boy stammered, his voice tiny compared to the
towering woman. "I didn't try to do it!"
"This is the third time this has happened," the woman stated,
brandishing her knife. "You know the rule of thirds."
"No, Mom, please!" The boy pleaded, openly crying now. "It won't
happen again!"
"No excuses!" She said, grabbing his arm roughly and rolling up the
sleeve, revealing four thin scars, all conveniently concealed under
the sleeve from where anyone could see them. It took all of her self-
control not to do something, but she knew this wasn't real and she
couldn't affect the outcome.
"No," Creed growled, advancing on her. "I won't let you hurt us
again." The mother turned to face him, when Creed struck with
lightning speed and knocked the knife out of her hand and stabbing
upwards, burying his knife in the woman's neck. " Never again. " He
repeated, as she choked on her own blood which coated his own
hand. He never broke eye contact, and stared unblinkingly into her
eyes until she presumably died.
He let her body fall to the floor, knife still sticking out of her throat,
and knelt in front of the boy and pulled him into a hug, relief and care
etched on his face. "It's alright," he whispered. "Everything's going to
be fine."
"Look what you did," the woman growled advancing on the boy.
"What did I tell you about your projects?"
Ok, time to try and figure this out. She waiting until Creed entered
the room and willed the memory to freeze. She assumed this was a
memory at least. Well, not quite, something must have been altered.
She walked around the frozen figures, trying to piece this together.
Based on the context of what the woman had said, Patricia believed
that this particular memory had occurred when he was much
younger, and wasn't an adult either.
She also doubted he'd actually killed his mother… though if his eyes,
features and actions were any indication, he'd certainly have tried if
given the opportunity. This also confirmed a suspicion she'd had
about him that she'd hoped wasn't true. She couldn't say she was
completely surprised to learn he'd been abused as a child, but he
didn't really… act like it, for lack of a better word.
It was insensitive, but had she not known him as well as she did,
she'd have never suspected this. He seemed too normal, too well-
adjusted. If she managed to break him out of this, she wondered
how he'd react when he knew what she saw. Not that it mattered,
she still had to fix this first.
That boy his mother was threatening must have been his brother. He
looked a little like how she imagined a young Creed would look, but
she could definitely tell he was related to the mother. The father must
have been of Asian descent, and Creed inherited his father's genes
since he looked almost nothing like the woman before her. Unless
he'd been adopted, of course.
She pursed her lips at that thought, looking between the frozen
figures. He and the boy were clearly related, no question about that.
So it might be possible they were part of the American foster care
system. She'd heard some stories about kids being abused in the
system, so that might account for this…
She allowed the scene to continue as normal and this time Creed
simply pulled out his pistol and blew her brains out. She paused the
scene again just after he'd done it and focused on his face. No
question about it. This was vengeance for him. Revenge of
potentially years of torment, not just for him, but likely for his brother
too. There was no remorse, no guilt, only satisfaction and fury.
She let the scene finish and it reset completely a few seconds later.
She paused it immediately and began pacing the room, ticking off
what she knew about how this was set up.
One: Creed was trapped in this memory, which seemed to end soon
after he killed his mother.
Two: She was invisible. At least that's what she assumed. No one
had acknowledged her and she'd been in plain sight. Yeah, no way
they could have missed her.
Three: This memory was heavily altered in some way from the
original, and she felt that was key to breaking him out of it.
Four: Creed was unbalanced here. Fury, anger and fear were all
present, practically saturating the memory itself from their intensity,
which she also suspected tied into keeping him here.
Alright. She'd seen it, not to see if she could influence it somehow.
First test, to see if his mother dying was tied to the memory resetting.
She let the scene play out like normal until Creed began attacking
her. He pulled out a pistol again and fired several gauss rounds at
her. But this time Patricia, using her control over the dream, made
the bullets miss.
Both he and his mother seemed surprised. Creed scowled and fired
again, and Patricia once more made his bullets bounce off into the
walls and cabinets. He finally gave up, flipped the pistol in his hand
and stormed up to his mother and smacked her in the face with it.
Patricia paused the scene, trying to think if she should delay
further… no, this had gone on longer than the last times and
watched as Creed slammed the butt of the pistol into her head over
and over again until a bloody mess remained.
Once that was done, he went over to his brother and comforted him
as usual.
Ok, that was very useful. One more time would confirm her theory
and then she could move on. She paused the scene and simply
clenched her fist, directing it at Creed's mother. Her head exploded
and the corpse fell to the ground. Creed came in right on cue, and
looked down in confusion at the headless body, then looked around
briefly-
There must have been some trigger to end it, and it couldn't be too
far from the point where his mother died. But it seemed there needed
to be more than simply his mother surviving for it to end, else it
would have ended after she'd prevented Creed from killing her over
and over. Unfortunately, the only person who knew how this was
actually supposed to play out was Creed, and he wasn't in the
correct frame of mind.
Everything he was feeling now was likely what he'd felt back then,
but now he could do something about it. The Hive Commander had
taken advantage of his abuse perfectly, creating a scenario where
he'd willingly trap himself in a loop again and again without ever
knowing it. And each time he'd repeat it with the same fury and
intensity as the first time. He wouldn't escape without help, and
luckily, she was here.
Right. First she needed to see if she could make herself visible.
Once the scene reset, she focused on making herself tangible and to
her surprise felt like she was a more tactile part of the world. It
actually felt like she was standing on solid ground instead of… well,
whatever she'd been on before.
"Look what you did," the mother growled advancing on the boy.
"What did I tell you about your projects?"
Creed's mother spun around, brandishing her knife. "Who are you
and how did you get here?"
Good, she could see her. This might work. "Step away from him,"
Patricia ordered, stepping forward. She saw Creed in the
background. Time to see if the second part of her plan would work.
She focused on freezing the memory for both him and his brother,
leaving herself and his mother to still move.
"Get out of here now," his mother hissed. "Else I'll tell the cops you're
the one who hurt him." Patricia glanced behind her to see Creed
frozen just entering the kitchen. She smiled. Perfect. She knew what
to do now.
"Give me that," Patricia said, raising her hand and willing the knife to
fly to her hand, the hilt landing snugly in her palm. The mother's
expression suddenly turned to worry.
"How-" She began when Patricia raised a fist and clenched, making
her head explode in a shower of red again. She unfroze time, let
herself become invisible again and let the scene reset.
Ok, now she knew what to do. Keeping time frozen, she left the
kitchen to go look for where Creed was. She entered a small living
room, with a small scratched wooden table with some old couches
around it. The house had a second story, and Creed was coming
down the stairs, looking like a man on a mission.
She took a breath and carefully unfroze time for him and he
continued storming down, slowing down in surprise when he saw
her. "Who…" he began, then trailed off, cocking his head as he
looked at her. "I know you." He said after a few moments. "I don't
know where, but I know you."
Ok, she could work with that. "Patricia," she told him. "Remember
me? Patricia Trask. We're both part of XCOM."
He shook his head, scowling. "We'll figure this out later, move aside."
"No," she shook her head, stepping in front of him, sadness washing
over her as he looked at her in a way she'd never seen before.
Angrily. "You can't…"
"She's going to kill him," Creed growled, stepping forward. "This time
I'm going to do something about it."
"No, you're not!" She shouted, taking a step towards him defiantly. "
This isn't real . This has already happened . If you go in there and kill
her, you'll just be trapping yourself here."
"What are you talking about?" He demanded. "I assure you, Patricia
Trask, this is very real, and if you don't step aside, I'm going to hurt
you."
"Think!" She insisted. "Look around you! Look at what you're wearing
. Look at how long we've been talking and nothing has happened!
You're too focused on vengeance to notice how much doesn't add
up."
"Vengeance?" He hissed, eyes blazing. "You have no idea what
she's put us through. No one else will give us justice, so I will deal
with that myself."
"I'm not arguing that," Patricia argued. "I saw what she'd done to you
and your brother. It's horrific, but think! How old are you?"
"Your armor," Patricia said, tapping her own. "XCOM issue. We've
been serving together for months. But the point is that you've done
this before dozens of times."
"You enter the kitchen," Patricia explained. "Your mother spots you
and says, 'Go to your room, Anius.' You respond with "No. I won't let
you hurt us again.' Then you kill her. The method is different, but you
always kill her, some ways more violent than others."
"I've heard that before," he muttered. "She said that once. Then I…"
He trailed off and looked at her, and she realized he'd gotten it. "If
this isn't real, then how am I here? How are you here?"
It was odd hearing him state it so bluntly. She'd always gotten that
impression, but never that he felt that strongly. But couldn't really
ignore that it was good to hear him say it out loud. "Then here's what
you need to do," she said, swallowing. "Finish this exactly as you
remember it. No matter how tempting it is, don't kill her. Don't change
anything. Let it happen and it'll end and you'll be free."
"I'm pausing the memory for the moment," she answered. "To give
me time to explain this to you."
She shrugged. "Then the memory resets and I try this again."
"How many times would you do it?" He asked, turning to face her
fully.
She looked him in the eye. "As many as it took. I'm not leaving you
here."
"Sure,"
"A friend," she answered quietly after a few seconds. "A very close
one."
"Ah," he looked towards the kitchen, a slight smile on his face. "That
makes sense."
She raised an eyebrow. "What did you think, if you don't mind me
asking?"
He paused some before answering. "My wife," he answered simply.
"Don't ask me to explain why. It's just a feeling. But I know I don't
trust easily, if at all, but you I do. Completely. Don't know anyone
who'd even be remotely like that outside of family," he shrugged.
"Take that for what you will."
Patricia wasn't sure what to say. Even in this dream state, the
implications at least warranted some looking into, and she'd likely
have to press him herself since it seemed he was keeping some of
his personal feelings towards her a secret. But if he was….well, she
was annoyed he hadn't said anything to begin with and kicking
herself since she was normally good at picking up on these things.
Men were highly unsubtle about them as well, but she supposed if
anyone could keep his feelings hidden outward, it'd be him.
"This is the third time this has happened," his mother stated,
brandishing her knife. "You know the rule of thirds."
"No, Mom, please!" His brother pleaded, openly crying now. "It won't
happen again!"
"No excuses!" She said, grabbing his arm roughly and rolling up the
sleeve, revealing the four thin scars. As his mother slowly lowered a
blade, Creed entered the kitchen, his previous anger gone, replaced
by calm and resignation. Still, his mother noticed and turned to him.
"Don't hurt him, mother," Creed insisted, stepping forward. "It's not
his fault. I'm the one who gave the paint to him."
"I should have known," his mother seethed, turning her anger onto
him. "You are still a troublesome child, always have been. You don't
care about the sacrifices I make for you, no! Instead you try and
make my life a living hell!" She saw him wince, but stare at her
stoically as she approached him. "You need to be taught a lesson,"
she hissed, pointing the knife at him. "You need to be punished."
Patricia looked over to see that Creed's brother had fled the room,
which was what she assumed had been the intention from the
beginning. She wasn't surprised this was what he'd done, it was just
how he was. A protector. He pulled the sleeves off his armor to bare
his arm while his mother held the blade over the toned skin.
"One won't be enough," she said, eyeing the arm. "I think three is
sufficient for the trouble and pain you've caused me."
Patricia could see and feel him resisting the urge to break this, pull
out his own knife and plunge it into her throat. It would be so easy…
she was nothing against him. He winced as the knife cut the first
time. She allowed herself to become visible behind his mother, to
reassure him that she was there and watching.
She gave a small nod and she could tell he could see her.
Two cuts.
Almost done. He was trying to hold back, but each moment with this
monster of a woman was pushing it. Just a little longer…
Three cuts.
Patricia found herself in her own body, blinking against the harsh
lights of the Medical Ward. She focused on Creed, who was also
moving his head around, wincing as the light pierced his eyes. He
looked over drearily. "Patricia?"
"Hey, don't move too much," she warned, keeping her hopes down.
"What was the last thing you remember?"
Patricia smiled and sighed in relief. He was back. "Shh," she told
him, resting a hand on his forehead and gently stroking his hair back.
"Just rest and think. It'll come to you, it's going to be alright now."
Things were stabilizing now, and just in time too. The Commander
leaned back in his chair and took a brief moment to rest. It had been
a rather eventful couple of days. There would be new MEC pilots
soon, the Koreas had agreed to a truce and it seemed Patricia had
managed to break Creed out of whatever he'd been in.
In the meantime-
He looked behind him as he heard that EXALT holocommunicator
beeping. He frowned and stood up. Odd. He'd had that hooked up
soon after they'd raided it from the Mercado Estate, though hadn't
expected to use it for a while since no one other than EXALT really
possessed the technology to utilize it.
They were going to be sorely disappointed if that was the case. But it
was interesting EXALT seemed to be calling. He might as well see
what they wanted. It was going to be exceptionally awkward if they
actually wanted a truce seeing as how he'd ordered Zhang to
interrogate and kill quite a few of their number.
" Don't beat yourself up over it," Ethan shook his head. "If you'd
somehow found out any of us were alive, there would have been
bigger issues for us."
"How?" The Commander demanded. "Did the UN not kill you either?"
" Oh no," Ethan answered darkly. "Trust me, the Iranians were very
keen on executing me. No, I was rescued. A lot of us were, in fact. If
you hadn't had your own personal guard, they'd have attempted it
with you."
"Who rescued you?" He asked, trying to figure out who would have
the resources or motive to do so.
" And look where that got us," Ethan stated, taking a step towards
him. "We destroyed a threat to the world, and in return they decided
to kill us. EXALT is not like those tyrants we executed. They have a
vision and goal that I believe in. The world is broken, you realized
this first and did something about it."
"I wanted to fix the problem," the Commander protested. "I never
wanted power, nor did I want to world to suddenly conform to be like
me."
" But it should," Ethan pushed. "And that is why I first decided to
stay. They understand necessity. They understand what must be
done. The world will never change unless forced, and EXALT is
going to be that force."
"And what a brilliant force that is," the Commander pointed out
sarcastically. "Allying with the aliens . You're a traitor, Ethan. You
cannot justify that!"
" Allying with the aliens was a mistake," Ethan nodded. "But we
believed they could be used. We also didn't know you were in charge
of XCOM. To me it seemed like nothing but another UN puppet, and
just another obstacle in our way."
"So what now?" The Commander asked after a few seconds. "Why
contact me? You think that will convince me not to take down
EXALT?"
" No," Ethan shook his head. "I know your answer to that. But I
thought we needed to talk. To explain. EXALT is not the threat you
make us to be."
" By my count more of our own are dead," Ethan stated neutrally.
"But things have changed now. I can guess what you're plan is now:
unite the world against the aliens, correct?"
" As do we," Ethan said. "But when the time is right… EXALT will
move against the aliens. It was planned from the beginning, and will
come sooner than later."
" I would prefer you not turn down help if it presents itself," Ethan
amended slowly. "Our position is precarious. The aliens are
becoming more involved. Should things go wrong, there might not be
an EXALT left. But we are not traitors, Commander, we never were."
He was silent for a moment. "Or you could leave," the Commander
suggested finally. "Whatever debt you had with EXALT has been
paid. I could use you in XCOM, you could fight for the right side. I
could use all of you."
" No," Ethan stated flatly, the intensity of it surprising him. "I'm not the
same man I was, Commander. I have a family, I have a wife and son.
I will not abandon them because you asked me to, and neither will
the rest of them."
The Commander blinked. "How did you manage that ?" He asked,
not sure why he'd felt the need to have that question answered first.
Although it was warranted since Ethan had been notoriously awful
with women. Either he'd gotten a lot better or he'd found a woman
who had the same personality as him.
" You've met her, actually," Ethan answered, slightly amused. "I
believe you threatened to kill her too if I recall correctly."
" Yes, Saudia," he answered happily. "She only wants what's best for
humanity, Commander. She believes EXALT is the means by which
that can be achieved. It isn't just about power for her, she's doing
what she believes is right."
And Ethan was right. He was going to need everyone when the
invasion finally came… and if EXALT was around… well, they might
just end up being useful. He supposed it depended on what EXALT
planned to do now. "So are you saying you're not going to continue
this war between us?" The Commander finally asked.
" Not at present," Ethan confirmed. "It's pointless for both of us.
We're both on the same side now, like it or not. If anyone can ensure
we push back the aliens, it will be you and Saudia."
" Why?"
"I can't tell you," the Commander shook his head. "Not yet. But I can
promise I won't use it against her or EXALT. But I need to know what
she's done and is capable of."
" And what could you possibly get out of that if not to use it against
her?" Ethan demanded incredulously.
Ethan was silent for a moment, then sighed. "You'd better keep your
word," he warned, picking up a tablet and typing on it. "Otherwise I'm
going to hunt you down, Commander or no. You should be receiving
it now."
The Commander looked down at the console and saw that a large
file had just been sent to him. He quickly downloaded it onto his
tablet and nodded at Ethan. "Thank you."
" I'm not sure we'll get a chance to talk again," Ethan said. "But I'm
glad we spoke. Regardless of what's happened, I'm glad you're still
alive."
"As am I," the Commander agreed, and formed his hand into a fist
and gave the salute they'd used all those years ago. "Good luck,
Ethan."
Once he was comfortable, he lifted his tablet, and opened up the file
of Saudia Vyandar, Director of EXALT.
Terror Attack: United States of America
Terror Attack: United States of America
Patricia had been slightly surprised to hear that Creed had been
discharged so soon. Last she'd heard, they wanted to keep him for a
couple more days to ensure that he was completely functional and
there weren't any surprise side effects. Although from the sounds of
it, he wasn't going to be deployed on any missions for some time yet.
Maybe. She had the feeling that he'd insist if it became an issue.
Well, in that case she had a pretty good idea of where he'd be, even
if she hadn't been able to sense his exact position. The first place
he'd probably head was either the practice range or training area.
But since she could sense where he was, she knew he was at the
practice range from proximity alone.
Going into his mind that intrusively had created some unintentional
side effects. A… connection felt like the wrong word, but it was to the
point where she could sense his mind immediately as if he was
standing right in front of her, no proximity needed whatsoever. It was
more intense when they were close too; she prevented herself from
sensing his exact thoughts… but just from his emotions, gestures,
and the hundreds of things that ran through his mind all at once, she
could almost always predict what he was going to do or say.
She'd deliberately avoided talking about what she'd seen, which had
been helped by her being busy helping the Commander in her new
role, which of late had been overviewing additional soldiers to be
recruited. After that had been reading on all the essential documents,
and she wasn't surprised that the hidden Internal Council documents
were just as brutally straightforward as the ones released to the
soldiers.
She was equal parts fascinated and disturbed to have learned just
how directed this war was, and none of the soldiers knew about it.
After reading the Hades Contingency, it hadn't taken long to link
together what had happened in Germany. There was a propaganda
war being waged against all sides that no one outside of a few
people knew about, and that was why it was working.
The Commander was smart enough not to lie to his soldiers, which
he'd told her he wouldn't do. But instead he just never gave any
indication that his more questionable orders existed. She suspected
that he was preparing for the Hephaestus and Demeter
Contingencies and that made her… concerned. He was expecting a
full invasion, and if the situation didn't change, she was wondering if
he'd really go through with them.
Israel had a plan to subjugate the Middle East, China was mobilizing
their military, North and South Korea had a tense peace at best,
Brazil was now facing a full military coup, Russia was just waiting for
the chance to annex their neighbors and United States was
beginning to start their own secret projects. All it took was one of
those to fall apart for all hell to break loose.
She leaned against the wall, deciding not to interrupt him until he
finished. After several minutes, the sounds of bullets striking metal,
the roar of the gauss rifle, and the metallic scent in the air faded and
silence fell over the range. Creed slowly lowered his rifle and
observed his handiwork. Satisfied, he turned around and didn't seem
surprised to see her watching him.
He looked much better now that he was out of bed. His face had
color again and he seemed to have more energy now that he was
moving around. He'd gotten new clothes too. The black XCOM
fatigues were a new shade of black and not faded like hers, which
made her think the medics disposed of them out of some irrational
fear that he was carrying an alien contagion.
He was clearly unsure how to feel about seeing her right now, his
emotions ranging from ecstatic to resigned. He likely knew what she
wanted, no, needed to talk about, but wasn't looking forward to it
even if he was happy to see her. She briefly considered psionically
calming him, removing whatever concern he had about talking to her.
One thing that was ridiculous was this irrational feeling of worry,
likely due to how she'd react to not being told. Yes, of course he'd
wonder if she'd be mad at him for not telling him every traumatic
moment of his life. Because of course that's who she was, a self-
absorbed jerk with no respect for privacy.
Still, she got it to a degree. Fortunately he was the type not to focus
on it. "Good shooting," she complemented, thinking that might
interject some normalcy.
Creed pursed his lips, and she felt him fortify himself before he
continued. "You said I was caught in a memory… which one? I can
remember pieces, but not the whole thing."
Patricia motioned to one of the metallic benches that lined the walls.
"Want to sit down?"
Both of them sat down, angled towards each other. Patricia took a
breath and started talking. "It was in a house, mostly in the kitchen to
be specific. There were two in there already, who I assume were
your mother and brother."
"Ah," he winced and nodded. "She had a knife, yes? She was going
to hurt him?"
"So you saw that one," he continued quietly, looking away into the
distance. "How was I… trapped in there, I guess?"
"So… you stayed with her?" Patricia asked. "The whole time?"
"For a lot longer than I should have," he admitted, bursts of old pain
appearing inside him. "It's hard to explain without experiencing it. But
I guess I didn't know better, it was just something I accepted as
normal. What you saw was my last memory of her. After that I was
terrified that one of those times she was actually going to kill one of
us and I didn't want that to happen. So I got my brother and we ran
away."
"Oh, she certainly tried," Creed chuckled without any humor. "But
once the police became involved it was a much different story. Those
months were a blur; all I specifically remember saying was that I was
never going back. After the whole investigation, both of us were put
in the adoption services for a time since there wasn't any family to
take us."
Patricia looked over at him. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "Was she at
least convicted?"
"For something," Creed shrugged. "I didn't care then and I don't care
now. As far as I'm concerned, my mother is dead."
He said that, but she could still feel the simmering resentment within
him when he thought of his mother. She hesitated, then finally just
decided to ask. "What about your father?"
"Dead," he stated flatly. "Car crash when I was eight. I was in the car
when it happened and somehow survived. Almost wished it had
been the other way around sometimes, things certainly would have
been different."
"How?"
"My mother wasn't always like that," Creed explained quietly, leaning
back. "She was… normal, I guess. Loving. The crash changed her,
and I did get the impression that she resented that I had lived. It
became a lot clearer as I got older. But… well, it's not as though I
could do anything about it."
"Oh." Patricia couldn't really imagine that. Sure, she'd had issues
with her parents like every kid growing up, but she'd never doubted
that they cared about her and only wanted her to be happy. She
wasn't sure how she'd react to her own mother practically wishing
she'd died, but… it wouldn't have been good.
Then again, how many abuse victims had she known before?
When that prior thought came to her, she erased that question from
her mind. He'd probably respond as politely as ever, but it seemed…
patronizing… when she thought about it. Why couldn't he recover
and function like a normal person? People didn't get into the SEALs
on pity.
"I think I told you before," he answered, now looking back at her. "I
wanted to help people. To protect them from people like my mother.
The professions where I could remove criminals from the world
legally was limited, and I eventually decided the SEALs would fit
best. So I made that my goal."
Patricia frowned. His reasoning made sense, and with context now,
even more so. But also with context came another question. "If you
don't mind me asking… why military? Why not the police, or
something more local? You'd be protecting people from criminals like
your mother more… regularly, I would think."
He raised a hand, index and middle finger pointed up, miming a gun.
"Those kind of people don't deserve to live. Same idea if some idiot
kid tries to shoot me, I'm not worried about taking him alive because
he's trying to kill me." Creed let out a long sigh. "But that's not how
things work. There are rules. Procedures. Criminals have rights.
Justice is determined by how much money each side has. I can't
work in a system like that; at least with the SEALs we can get rid of
scum like that with no one knowing."
Both of them broke the embrace and sat in silence for a few
moments, looking contentedly at each other. Patricia chewed her
lower lip unconsciously. If there was ever a time to bring it up…
"There's… something I was wondering. If you answer, you have to
be honest."
He cocked his head at her. "I think trying to trick you would be
monumentally stupid. You can read my mind."
She scowled. "And also like I said, it's not as simple as that," she
swallowed. "Anyway-"
The doors hissed open and several of the soldiers walked in, Endre,
Carmelita and Alexei to be specific. Patricia resisted the urge to
psionically order them out. Now? Did they really have to come now
of all times? Creed was still looking at her expectantly. "'Anyway'
what?"
Well, she couldn't have this talk with them around. "I'll tell you later,"
she promised, standing up, knowing that her skin was flushing and
thinking she should probably get out before one of them noticed.
"But… thank you for telling me this."
Like family . She remembered, looking at him, not sure what else to
say. Maybe more .
"I'll see you later," she promised, deciding she might as well get
some work done until the next opportunity presented itself. "Get
better soon."
The Citadel, Herman's Quarters
" Correct," Tamara answered with a sharp nod. "I don't like it either,
but since you've not exactly produced the results the Council has
wanted, I don't have a sufficient reason to block it. The moderates
are becoming concerned he's working to make them obsolete."
"Trust me," Herman emphasized. "No one knew about the Korean
truce. None of the soldiers and certainly not me. Same with Taiwan."
" I know," she sighed wearily. "But since you're the only one of us
who's actually worked with the Commander, that makes you ideal to
reassure the rest of them there's nothing to worry about."
"Which may not be true," Herman pointed out. "I won't lie, but
anything I say is likely not going to line up with any of your
narratives. And if so, what exactly will happen? XCOM is in charge of
this invasion now. To change that would be idiotic."
" You're telling this to the wrong person," Tamara said, her features
pinched as she eyed him in some bemusement. "Tell that to them.
And to answer your point, all of them know XCOM will be the front
line of the invasion. But they wonder if the Commander should be
leading it, regardless if he's followed the rules or not."
" Then tell them that," Tamara pressed. "They need to hear it to kill
these idiotic delusions they have. Not that you really have much of a
choice."
" Don't count on it," Tamara warned, her lips twitching. "Some of
them really aren't happy with you."
Herman closed the screen and looked around his sparse room. Well,
best update the Commander of this new development. For some odd
reason, he doubted the Commander was going to be particularly sad
to see him go.
"I'm not sure what to expect," the scientist preparing to bring Vahlen
out of the psionic pod warned as he began tapping on a touchscreen
on the side of it. "She's likely to be disoriented, especially if it
succeeded."
"Of course she was," Bradford sighed. "Well, let's hope our soldiers
don't find it similarly disturbing."
Both of them watched as the pod opened up, the top piece covering
the head came up, and two sides opened out revealing Vahlen
inside. She'd eschewed her regular lab attire for more practical and
comfortable clothing, just a simple white T-shirt and gray shorts. Her
head was tilted up, sensors attached all across her body and face.
The Commander immediately noticed two things: One, that her hair
was down again, which marked the second time he'd seen it like
that. Also, why had that been the first thing he'd noticed when the
other was the tangible distortion around her body. He's seen that on
Patricia, so it wasn't hard to draw conclusions.
"Easy, Doctor," the scientist said as he began taking them off. "It'll
just be a second."
She didn't say anything, but didn't move as they worked. She tilted
her head to the side to allow him to take the sensors off her face,
before turning the other way to repeat the procedure on the other
side. He was careful to be gentle, peeling each one off slowly and
deliberately and letting them fall to the side.
He stepped back and Vahlen visibly steadied herself and tried
stepping out of the pod. Yep, she was clearly disoriented since she
practically stumbled out and would have fallen had he not anticipated
that and positioned himself to catch her. She was rather light, though
that was likely due to his enhanced strength than anything else.
She stayed that way for a few seconds, arms around him and face
buried against his chest as he attempted to steady her. He felt her
stiffen and then stand up straight again, looking more alive now. She
still looked exhausted, but her eyes were bright and energetic now
that she was back.
"Yes," she smiled. "It did. It's… amazing. It's one thing to hear it
described, but another to actually experience it…"
She trailed off, her face indicating she was far away. "Will this help
us?" Bradford asked. "In determining more psions, I mean."
She blinked, shook her head to bring her back to reality. "Yes. Yes,
for sure. I can put together a list of applicants within a few hours.
This validated my theory, and we can use it to predict the likelihood
of psionic sensitivity."
Well, personally he felt she looked fine. But she was right, that
wasn't good enough for a professional environment. Glad you agree,
but remember we need to talk. Huh… that was not his thought,
which likely meant…
Well, if there was one person he didn't mind doing that to him, it was
Vahlen. Though he didn't exactly like how… easy it had seemed. Nor
did he especially think she'd take Patricia's path and refuse to read
him. She'd do it out of curiosity if nothing else. Yes, he'd have to ask
her later just how much she could really do.
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and just settled on giving
Bradford a "Really?" look instead, which only seemed to make him
more amused. "If you wanted to do it, you should have said
something."
"No."
Bradford chuckled. "It is interesting to watch you two, sometimes.
Very oblivious, both of you."
"Shut up, Bradford," he sighed wearily, not wanting to deal with this
now. "We've got actual important things to do. Such as Mongolia,
remember?"
"You read over the list?" The Commander asked as he looked down
at the holotable, displaying a map of Asia.
Patricia gave a firm nod. "Yes, and think I know where we should
focus on."
Van Doorn shook his head. "No, you've proven that. As has the
Ethereal."
"Same," the Commander agreed. "Although I'd argue that the MEC
program has been invaluable."
"I'll get to that," Patricia promised, tapping her tablet. "But in the
meantime, I think we should ensure that the psions that we have
don't die. All that to say that they should be genetically enhanced as
soon as possible."
"Yes," Patricia added, setting her tablet down. "And these genetic
mods should be tailored to a degree for each soldier. I do have some
suggestions for each, which goes with my system of psionic
organization I've developed."
"No," Patricia shook her head. "I'm still writing the official document,
since that's something all of you like. But similar to the
specializations you've developed, it makes sense to apply the same
to our psions, since the range of abilities is diverse enough to
warrant it."
Patricia clasped her hands behind her back and began addressing
them in a way that showed she'd put some thought into this. "Based
on what I've observed and learned, there seem to be roughly four
areas that a psion can specialize in. None are mutually exclusive,
per-se, but each individual seems to have a natural inclination
towards a specific one."
"I'm not sure we can fit the Ethereals into these neat categories," the
Commander said slowly. "At the very least they are thousands of
years old. Maybe more. But they've had enough time to master any
kind of psionic powers they want."
"Right," she said, returning to her speech. "I assume Annette told
you of the so-called 'Furies'?"
"Defense," she finished. "Iosif actually seems inclined towards it. It's
essentially using psionic energy to defend instead of attack, like
forming barriers, stasis fields, stuff like that."
The Commander nodded. All that made sense and the best thing he
could see about her analysis was that each one seemed useful in its
own right. Although he'd have been hard-pressed to think of a
weakness for psionics. As far as he could tell, the only thing that
could really challenge a psion, excluding surprise, was another
psion.
"I suppose you've thought about this," Van Doorn said, scratching his
chin with a hand. "But I'm curious; which do you think is the most
useful or strongest?"
She hesitated, looking down as she thought of her answer. "I can't
give a definitive answer to that," she finally admitted. "Honestly it'll
come down to surprise, and how powerful each psion is. I think
telepaths are more useful due to that they can be utilized outside of
combat operations, but I don't think any one discipline is stronger ."
Although, there was little anyone could do to stop them even if they
did know.
"We should place both the sensitive ones in the pod," Van Doorn
suggested. "We already know they're able, they just need to be
pushed forward."
"Once the psions are taken care of, we have to do the same to the
Internal Council," Patricia stated. "All of us are too valuable to risk
getting killed, like it or not."
Van Doorn sighed. "We can determine that later. What next,
Patricia?"
She smiled. "Good. That leaves the rest of the soldiers. I have a list I
think would benefit most from enhancement."
"I see it," he confirmed, looking at his tablet. "And I also have one for
you to look over. We need to replenish our forces, so I've compiled a
list of around forty soldiers who I think would be appropriate. Look
over them and see if you agree."
"Right now it's…" he glanced a Van Doorn. "Sixty? Yes, for now
anyway. But it can be expanded if needed. Besides, I want to begin
preparations for the Hephaestus Contingency, and that will include a
sizable number of reserves."
That was good, it showed she actually read the document. "Ideally.
But that will take months at least."
"You know I can sense people," she said, leaning against the wall,
sighing. "But other psions… they stand out. A lot. My range is limited,
but it's possible that an Ethereal could simply sense for psions and
pinpoint us that way. Four psions in one area might attract their
attention."
That was a good point… and a big problem. But the thing was, he
wasn't sure how he could really counter that. Storing each individual
psion in random places around the world to reduce detection was
impractical, and couldn't be afforded. Like it or not, until he came up
with some way of shielding psionic energy, that was now going to be
a potential risk.
"I'm not sure there's much we can do about that," Van Doorn said,
coming to the same conclusion. "Not until Vahlen determines some
way to negate psionics."
"That it should," Van Doorn chuckled. "The Korean gambit was risky,
but I think that's what it took to get them to come to you."
Though not until they received some new management. But that was
a problem for another day. After the Directive was initiated.
"Yes and no," the Commander answered, looking down at her. "I
expect there to be some animosity in the beginning, especially
between the Koreans, but one thing I've also noticed is that a nation
of origin isn't as big a deal here as elsewhere. It's harder to be angry
at one nation when humanity itself is threatened. Puts it into
perspective."
She bit her lip as she considered that. "True. It's kinda silly now that I
think about it. We spent, no, spend a lot of time fighting each other
for reasons that really seem pointless now."
"I suppose the question is what it will take to stop it," she commented
thoughtfully, tapping the touchpad on the hologlobe stand. "Even
now there are countries poised against each other. Justified or no,
that isn't helping anything now. Isolation will kill us, as will misplaced
national pride."
Hmm. Perhaps he could see what she thought of some things. "If
there was ever a time for the UN to do something, it would be now.
As it stand, the name rings a bit hollow."
"Do what?" Jackson looked with, her voice weary with resignation.
"Form an actual world government? No nation is going to willingly
give up their sovereignty, even if it is needed to survive."
"I.." she paused, clearly concerned she'd said the wrong thing.
"Go ahead," he encouraged. "I'm curious."
"That was interesting to hear," he told her, inclining his head. "Thank
you for telling me."
"I…" she swallowed, and simply gave him a heartfelt salute. "Thank
you, Commander."
The Commander had a sinking feeling he knew what that was. "The
Ethereal."
"Spotted near Central Park," he confirmed, his lips a thin white line.
"I've warned the White House not to engage it. But as it stands it's
running around unchallenged."
Deep breaths.
Could she? Both Alexei and Iosif had been put in the pods and had
emerged with quite a bit more power at their disposal. But they were
still new, still learning. They were going to fight an Ethereal . A being
who was quite possibly thousands of years old.
But she didn't have a choice. If she didn't, people would die. She
glanced around the barracks at the soldiers gearing up, eyes
lingering on Creed a little longer than the others.
People she cared about.
She swallowed.
Her. They believed in her. That she'd be the one to lead them to
victory. She was why they didn't believe this could be the end. And
she couldn't exactly dispel that. They had to have some hope, as
unrealistic as it was. She flipped her helmet in her hands, looking
into the expressionless visor. The mask that had been the last thing
many had seeing before dying.
Well, let's see how many she could add to that number before the
night was fully over.
She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and she didn't have to turn
around to know that it was Creed. "We're going to win," he promised,
giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Don't forget that."
"Shh," he told her, raising a finger to his smiling lips. "None of that.
Come now, how could we lose? I'm a SEAL and you can control
minds, it can't get much better than that."
She had to chuckle at that. At least his attempts at humor were back.
"Fine then, but you have to promise to follow my orders. If I tell you
to run… run."
" No." She stated firmly. "This is my battle, mine and the other
psions."
"We'll finish the other aliens," Creed promised, putting his helmet on.
"Then we'll come for you."
She accepted that for now and turned to the rest of the soldiers who
were geared up and ready to go. "Load up!" She shouted, marching
towards the door. "You know your assignments, double time to the
skyrangers!"
Alexei, Iosif, Fakhr Samuel, Creed, Yeva and Nazar all followed her
into Big Sky's skyranger and strapped in and they lifted off in record
time. The Commander wasted no time bringing them up to speed on
the current situation. "I'll dispense with what you already know. New
York is under attack by an unknown number of aliens. From the
images sent, they appear to mostly be a variant of the mutons, but
much larger and presumably more dangerous. There are probably
more, but they're spread throughout the city. The NYPD and Marine
Corps are beginning to make headway but they need support."
Patricia privately hoped the NYPD had done the smart thing and
gotten the hell out of there. No police force could deal with the
aliens. Even the marines were going to be lucky to make any
headway whatsoever. But she had a different role to play. "Creed
and Carmelita will reinforce the Marine guard and begin clearing the
city," she stated. "Annette will accompany you to hopefully clear the
aliens out quicker."
She'd debated bringing Annette with her team to face the Ethereal,
but had ultimately decided she'd be more useful on the front lines.
They needed at least one psion, and she wanted composed soldiers
at her side when they fought the Ethereal. Annette was powerful, but
she was still a loose cannon and lacked adequate mental defenses.
Even Alexei could get into her head, and that wasn't promising. The
last thing she wanted was to face a mind-controlled Annette.
That being said… Alexei and Iosif didn't have the strongest mental
defenses either. They could withstand each other, and even her to a
degree, but that might not be adequate when facing a psion much
more powerful than them. As it stood, she wasn't sure it was a fair
fight, even with the three of them.
" Gray Sky will drop Myra and Sanya near the hot zones," the
Commander continued. "Sanya will provide artillery support while
Myra can deal with any closer encounters."
"We also have the Ethereal," Patricia added, suppressing her burst
of worry. "Alexei, Iosif and I will do our best to contain it until
reinforcements come."
"You can count on us," Carmelita assured her with a nod. "It's time
for payback."
"Copy," she nodded, standing. Iosif and Alexei joined her side as she
felt their eyes upon her.
Respect.
Inspiration.
Hope.
Resolve.
So she used it. Let their emotions wash over her like water, taking
solace in their faith that she'd emerge victorious. And as the
skyranger dipped down, a calm descended upon her, a state of
peace that remained as it hit the ground. As the ramp lowered, she
stepped forward without fear, ready to face whatever this Ethereal
had to throw against her.
The air rippling around her, the two psions at her side, she advanced
into Central Park, holding onto the calm she'd gained. She took a
breath, taking a moment to compose herself, and closed her eyes,
sensing for the disturbances.
It hit her like a truck. The screams, pain, terror, all saturated the city
in equal measure. The voices were a mishmash of babbles and
yells, the emotions of terror and pain impossible to distinguish from
each other.
And yet there was something very clear, a well of pain and power so
vast it was impossible to miss.
The Ethereal.
Her eyes popped open and she pointed forward. "This way," she
ordered, raising her autorifle, her voice slightly distorted from her
helmet and psionic trance. "We follow the bodies."
South Brooklyn, New York City
" We're coming in hot!" Burning Sky warned as the skyranger dipped
sharply. Annette could hear the gunfire and explosions even inside it.
Surprisingly, she felt calmer than she should be. Maybe it was
because she'd faced trials no person should have endured, and
came out sane. Intrinsically, she knew that charging into a suicide
mission was… well, suicidal.
It helped that she was surrounded by people who were willing to fight
and die for their species. Her hand rested on the pistol she'd been
given, a traditional weapon they'd insisted she have in case she
couldn't use her psionics. Since a pistol was the only weapon she
was slightly familiar with, she'd taken it. Anything larger would just
slow her down.
" Twenty, maybe thirty soldiers are fighting two of those large
mutons," she answered, pulling the skyranger into a sharp turn. "It's
not going well."
"Circle around and open the ramp!" She ordered, marching to the
end by her. "Gray Sky! Drop off Myra and Sanya behind me! Burning
Sky, land by the marines!"
" Copy that," Burning Sky answered, the ramp already lowering
giving Annette the first taste of the city. Screams and gunfire reached
her ears instantly, along with the acrid smell of smoke. The gray
skyscrapers were all around her, dwarfing everything underneath
them. She'd always had New York as one of her places to visit.
Carmelita charged out and dropped to the ground, while Burning Sky
brought them to the ground, marines already moving to provide them
some covering fire as they charged out. "Go, go, go!" Latrell shouted
and all of them charged out into the street, bullets and gobs of
plasma flying around them.
Burned out cars, bodies and rubble littered the streets. Fires raged
all around the nearby buildings, inside the cars, and people trapped
on the upper floors were yelling in terror as the blazes spread. The
marines were taking positions behind the cover the ruined streets
provided, but after Annette saw the aliens themselves, realized that
they were in an almost hopeless situation.
Standing in the open with no regard for cover, two massive aliens
were firing indiscriminately around them, wielding massive plasma
cannons that had to have been as tall as her. They were just shorter
than Myra, and appeared to be built of pure muscle as well. Their
armor was a deep red, covering every inch of their bodies.
A trio of civilians tried to run away and were instantly gunned down
by one of the mutons, the force of the plasma rounds nearly
vaporizing the bodies. Their armor sparked as the marines' ballistic
fire hit it, but the rounds simply glanced off and lacked the power to
punch through the alloy plating. Carmelita had landed close to the
duo, and was spotted instantly, one of the mutons unleashing a
devastating barrage on her, forcing her behind a nearby building.
Annette witnessed her raise her robotic fists and engulf the muton in
a cone of blue and orange flame. It roared and stumbled back,
forcing it's friend to turn away from Carmelita and focus on the MEC.
This was her chance to get in there. She recalled everything she'd
endured, the anger, pain and terror that had sustained her and given
her the resolve to fight back.
She gritted her teeth and raised a hand toward the right muton, the
one forcing Myra back with its barrage of plasma fire. Carmelita was
firing blasts from the alloy cannon, but didn't seem to be doing much
damage. Annette dashed forward, slid into cover behind a fallen
concrete column, and after taking a second to compose herself,
stood up.
Golden blood now stained the red armor, but it seemed not to slow
the mutons in the least. The scorched one seemed fully recovered
and was firing at Myra who was taking some glancing shots.
Carmelita fired a blast into the legs of one and it roared and fell to
one knee.
Annette drew her right hand back, placing the other on her chest as
she gathered the swirling energy around her around the right one. It
grew in intensity, sparking and writing around her, burning her arm
like acid. When she could hold it no longer, she thrust the hand
forward, shooting a violet stream of energy towards the wounded
muton.
It slammed into its head, ripping away the ornate helmet and boring
through the skin behind it. It didn't even have time to roar in pain as
the lethal energy ripped the head apart instantly. Annette fell to one
knee, slightly dizzy from using that much energy. But it was done,
and the headless corpse fell to the ground.
The hail of bullets was starting to take its toll, as Annette saw
streams of ichor leaking off of it, but this only seemed to enrage the
alien, and it suddenly stopped firing, and turned towards the mass of
soldiers firing at it. Annette raised her hand and closed a fist,
directing the energy to focus on the alien.
Yeva was thrown back, parts of her armor gone and clearly injured,
but it looked like she was alive. Cai wasn't as lucky. The blast
shredded his armor and virtually cut him in half, killing him within a
few seconds. Annette finally lost control of the direction sank to the
ground, trying to regain her energy.
But it was enough for Myra to charge in and slam the muton to the
ground, it too wounded to put up a substantial fight. Pinning it with a
metal foot, she lowered her cannon and blasted it in the face several
times, turning its head into pink mush.
Blake began rushing towards Yeva to treat her wounds, and the rest
of them took up overwatch positions as the marines began
regrouping. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder. "You alright?"
Latrell asked, concern emanating from him.
He accepted that and both of them walked over to the small group.
"What's the situation?" Latrell asked as they came up.
"Bad," Creed answered grimly, greeting them with a nod. "There are
reports of firefights across the city."
"I've called in tanks to reinforce us," Davis stated. "But you're right-"
The ground shook behind them and all of them turned as one to see
one of the massive skyscrapers in the distance slowly collapse in
front of their eyes. "We move now!" Carmelita ordered, waving the
soldiers towards the area where the skyscraper had collapsed.
"Come on!"
But what was most disturbing to her was that she didn't sense
anyone. Everyone near her was dead.
So they did.
Patricia looked down at the corpse of a police officer, his skin warped
and melted, which likely meant that the Ethereal had killed him
personally. There were more like that. Every odd person was killed in
a more tangible way. Some had also seemed to commit suicide, if
the self-inflicted gunshot wounds and slit throats were anything to go
by.
Both Alexei and Iosif were silent as they walked through the mostly
bloodless carnage.
She paused and quickly sensed her area. The well of power and
pain was still there, impenetrable but close. Waiting. He knew they
were there. Psions could sense each other, and he had to have
known they would come.
The sheer scale of the buildings around her was amazing, it made
her feel small. Insignificant. She could only imagine what it was like
normally. Before it turned into a death trap. It was eerie in a way,
excluding the carnage on the street, and a few fires here and there…
it was almost normal. The lights still ran, screens still run, and she
could see the lights of Times Square in front of her.
She held up a fist as she saw a lone figure in the center of the street.
Surrounded by flaming cars, corpses and rubble, the being she
assumed was the Ethereal stood alone, his back to them. It was
almost exactly like the image she'd seen. A towering, robed alien
with a corroded and damaged helm. Two hands were raised in the
direction of one of the buildings, purple distortions around the limbs.
Patricia didn't know what he was doing, but she didn't want to give
him a chance to finish it. "Throw something at him," she said quietly
to Alexei who nodded and began looking around for an appropriate
projectile. After he'd emerged from the pod, it had quickly become
apparent that he had some skill with telekinesis and had spent an
extreme amount of time lifting various objects. He couldn't really
manipulate them that well, but he could throw them at terminal
speeds.
They were nearly thirty feet from the Ethereal now. Patricia aimed
her autorifle at the alien, beginning to telepathically communicate
'now' when a wave of pain rushed over her. Hot needles stabbed into
her back and she let out a gasp before realizing the psionic influence
around it.
Oh no you don't .
But the element of surprise had been lost, so all of them moved at
once. Alexei motioned towards a jagged steel beam which levitated a
few feet off the ground, the air around it and his hand distorted and
warped. Interesting that the purple residue of psionics didn't seem to
accompany him like the rest of them.
"You are beyond the need for such trifles," the Ethereal said, making
Patricia grit her teeth as that awful voice sank into her mind, oozing
with psionic power, worming its way into the deepest confines of her
mind, ensuring she'd never forget it. Even with her filtering out the
worst aspects of the Ethereal's influence, it did little to quiet the awful
wail of its voice.
He extended a hand from the robe and her weapon flew out of her
hands and skidded to the ground just before the Ethereal. Alexei and
Iosif received the same treatment and immediately moved to new
forms of defense. Iosif's hands were wreathed in purple energy,
preparing to defend against the coming attack.
Another arm emerged from the robe and pushed at Alexei who was
thrown back and slammed against the far wall. Patricia focused
directly on the Ethereal's mind, probing for some sort of weakness, a
hole she could push. But it was like breaking into a safe, there was
no easy way inside. Iosif made a collapsing motion with his hands,
and the Ethereal was suddenly encased in a shimmering purple
prison.
It was distracted for one brief second and that was all she needed.
She broke through the first layer, almost overwhelmed by the rush of
pure alien feelings she had no description for entering her mind,
thoughts in languages she couldn't begin to comprehend. And she
hadn't even broken into his mind, not really. This was simply just the
surface.
But she could work with that. All creatures felt pain, and now she
could unleash some of that on him. She pushed one simple concept
on him, a decree that the mind would determine how effective it was:
You are dying slowly and painfully.
She pressed that upon him, and the Ethereal screamed. A scream
that caused all of them to clutch their helmets in a vain attempt to
make it stop. The air around the Ethereal rippled, purple strands
appearing and disappearing like lightning and she thought that she'd
weakened it.
Until she was suddenly closed off and thrown out of the mind. That
shouldn't have happened! That should have at least debilitated him
until-
Now it was her turn to start screaming as every inch of her body was
suddenly scorched, cut, broken and more. She collapsed to the
ground, moaning as the Ethereal broke through her mental defenses
and redirected her attack back on her. It took every ounce of
concentration not to let the pain consume her, so prevalent was the
instruction in her mind. She still heard his voice even as she
suffered.
"Foolish human," he said, the voice heard through her ears and in
her mind. "You lack imagination. Pain is only an effective weapon
against the susceptible. The weak . You have no concept of what
causes lasting pain for beings like us."
" Quiet!" She screamed, slamming a fist into the unforgiving
concrete, a purple shockwave emanating from where it hit, sending
everything with the radius a short distance back. The pain receded
slightly and she used that to try and regain control of her mind. She
couldn't completely block the pain, but she could limit the debilitating
parts.
But there was still some, it still covered her body. But it was
manageable. It was in her head. It wasn't real but it could be used.
With a yell she stood up slowly, shaking but doing it. Both Alexei and
Iosif were on one knee, similarly debilitated and fighting it. There was
no time for them to recover.
While Iosif protected her, Alexei was still throwing objects at the
Ethereal in an attempt to distract him. In the brief time she was
allotted to recover, Patricia redoubled her attack on the Ethereal's
mind, pushing now a much simpler command. Cease.
It didn't work, but the energy stream faltered slightly and she pushed
at the mind again and again. She repeated the command more times
than she could count, hoping that one would get through.
The stream stopped. Iosif fell to one knee beside her and the
Ethereal looked at her, a slight admiration emanating from him. "Well
done," he said, stepping towards her.
Distract him .
" Proof," the Ethereal hissed, the air around him rippling once more.
"Humans have a sentimentality to the innocent that is predictable . I
wanted to see what could defeat a Hive Commander.I wanted to see
what could convince one of our own to betray us. I want to see your
reputation justified, psion."
Iosif was standing back up and Patricia looked up into the torn helm
of the Ethereal. "We are not experiments," she hissed, her vision
turning purple. "We are not pawns for you to simply observe and
discard."
Now .
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
The Ethereal let out a roar as a jagged piece of metal sprouted from
its chest . Patricia and Iosif were blown back by a sudden expulsion
of energy and Patricia watched, terrified and amazed as Alexei was
suddenly suspended in the air behind the Ethereal, a hand raised
towards him, and two more pulling the bloody piece of metal out of
the body.
Stay.
Stay.
Stay.
Patricia hissed and tried to fight the command that the Ethereal was
pushing down on her, preventing her from doing anything but
watching as he turned around, the same metal beam now aimed at
Alexei. She groaned and shuddered, but her limbs were like rocks,
unable to move without her mind cooperating.
The beam shot forward, impaling Alexei in his neck, and his body
was slammed to the ground when the Ethereal thrust his hand down.
Stay.
Go.
Stay.
Go.
With a shout she broke the mantra and shakily rose to her feet once
more. She needed to breathe. With shaking hands, she reached up
and unlatched her helmet and let in fall to the ground, taking in the
sounds, smells and sights of her unobstructed vision. The Ethereal
was still in front of her, still waiting.
With them.
Iosif had also recovered and both of them exchanged a look, resolve
filling both of them. If they were going to die, they would buy as
much time for the city as possible. All they needed to do was buy a
little more time for Annette and the soldiers to win.
The aliens must have come through here, if the carnage and
destruction was anything to go by. Annette was slightly concerned
that one of the buildings would fall due to how bombed out some of
them looked. At least some of the bottom floors were scorched,
cracked and ruined to a degree that could only come from heavy
weaponry.
The booming of a firing tank caught all their attention, and Carmelita
immediately motioned them towards the sound. As they got closer
the weapon and plasma fire became audible and close. There were
still screams, but not as many as before. Which probably wasn't a
good sign.
Annette looked forward to see she was right. Her heart sank as she
saw not three, but six of the red-armored mutons creating a
makeshift stronghold in an intersection. They'd stacked several cars
on top of each other to provide some cover for their massive bodies.
" Assuming barrage position," Sanya said from behind her. Annette
glanced back at the other MEC, once more amazed by how massive
it was. There was a large cannon built into its back, and the arms
and shoulders were packed with what she assumed to be missile
launchers. It was actually bigger than Myra's, who was also firing at
the mutons.
After he said that, clamps came down from the sides of his feet,
anchoring him to the ground. He raised his right arm, the launcher
whirling and clicking into place. "Firing barrage."
Three missiles shot out in quick succession and the smaller ones on
his shoulders all fired simultaneously, ultimately sending nearly a
dozen streaking explosives at the congregated mutons. Annette and
several others let out a cheer as the area where the mutons were
holed up went up in a booming symphony of fire and death.
She felt several die as they were struck by missiles and shrapnel,
their minds unique enough for her to tell when they ceased to
function. But there were still some alive, albeit wounded. "Four are
left!" She yelled, standing up and gathering her power once more.
Annette raised her hands to one of the mutons in the front, locking
the location in her mind as the power ran through her. With a shout
she unleashed the energy built inside her, direction it around the
muton. It roared in pain as the energy began to tear the body apart,
swatting the ethereal tendrils to no avail.
Her world narrowed to the screaming alien, the sounds of combat
fading in her mind as she amped the intensity, breaking into its basic
mental functions, amplifying every moment of pain beyond what it
normally felt.
But it was taking too long. Superficial damage. It needed to die. She
clenched her fist and directed the energy to manifest inside the
muton itself. Within several seconds the alien fell to the ground and
she released hold of the power and sank to the torn asphalt. Even as
the battle continued raging around her, she took a moment to
compose herself as everything swam in her field of vision.
She didn't know how much more she could do. A scream perked her
up again and she peeked over to see that Nazar had been hit in the
face by a plasma blast, throwing his body onto the ground. He was
dead. She looked at the other mutons, and noted that another one
had died from their attack.
A tank fired and though she couldn't see it, she saw its effects. One
of the mutons stumbled to the side, golden blood gushing out of a
new wound from the tank blast. It roared and turned to the offending
vehicle and started firing.
"Moving up!" Lesedi called and dashed forward to get a shot lined
up.
Annette quickly tried sensing her. Yes, she was alive, but in pain.
" Complying," she confirmed, and charged towards the last two,
knocking one to the ground and following up with blast from her
gauss cannon.
"Clear!" She shouted, after looking around the street. All of them
charged forward, and Annette blinked as she saw what remained of
the marine detachment that had been sent here. They seemed to be
almost completely wiped out. Their ranks were filled with dead
soldiers and she saw at least four tanks that had been essentially
disabled.
"Twelve and one tank," the ranking one answered grimly, his face
splashed with grime and blood. "We would have died if you hadn't
come."
"We'll handle the aliens," Creed assured them, walking up. "Focus
on getting the civilians to safety. More reinforcements are coming."
"I think these were the only ones in the Bronx," the marine answered
slowly. "But I don't know for sure. There were probably some
elsewhere. Maybe Times Square or Central Park."
She sighed. "I'm not sure how much more I can do."
" Thought as much. Carmelita, take a team and finish mopping up.
Everyone else go help Patricia and Iosif. They need support now."
"I'll take Annette, Veronika, Myra and Sanya," Creed said, turning
towards Times Square. "I'll also have our marine reinforcements
coverage there as well. All goes well we should get there at roughly
the same time."
As they dashed off to the next pod of enemies, the rest of them
dashed in the opposite direction. "Get there as fast as possible,"
Creed instructed both MECs. "We don't have time to spare!"
" Acknowledged," Myra nodded, and both MECs dashed off ahead of
them, far quicker than what they could keep up with.
The Ethereal could probably have ended the fight relatively soon, but
instead seemed content to keep shooting energy at her while
simultaneously trying to dominate her mind. His mind was
continuously assaulting her splintering defenses, requiring her to
stand there and focus all her energy on simply keeping him out.
If not for Iosif taking most of the physical assaults, she would have
died or lost her mind. As it stood the pain that ravaged her body had
finally reached a point where she was almost numb, she felt her skin
on fire, she felt her limbs crack and break, but managed to lock it
away as she focused on preventing the alien from taking complete
control.
Then the pressure suddenly receded and the sights and sounds of
the world came back in a rush as she fell to the ground. She hadn't
even noticed everything had gone dark, so preoccupied was she
with the Ethereal. Everything seemed brighter, more piercing.
"Shut up," she spat, gathering what energy she could for another
assault on his mind. "I thought you were powerful, yet you can barely
stop us ."
It laughed, a sick, twisted laugh, filled with pain and terror in equal
measure. "You do not believe that, psion. Insults are not weapons.
You cannot hurt me and your words even less so."
"Bodies can heal, psion," the Ethereal stated coldly, the words
echoing in her mind. "This pain is nothing compared to what I've
endured before."
Patricia tried and tried to break into his mind, but it was simple.
She just wasn't strong enough.
He reached a hand toward Iosif and his body was suddenly lifted into
the air and tossed backwards into a far wall. Patricia sensed he was
alive, but he wasn't going to help her anymore. She was suddenly
pushed out of the Ethereal's mind, and then trapped in her own. Its
presence was on the edges, blocking any kind of psionic telepathy.
"I see," he mused, watching her fall to one knee from exhaustion.
"Yes, you want to kill me. But you are also… curious . You want to
know what we are, you want to understand how we think. What
drives us."
"You impressed me," he said. "You would have been useful to us, but
that time has passed. But I will grant you one thing before you die.
Watch."
She gasped as he forced his way inside her mind, bringing with him
images feelings and memories she had no names for. Everything
faded away as she was hit with several scenes, each playing
simultaneously, but also independently.
White room, strapped, restrained, bound, captured. Impossible to
escape. Dozens more around me, all similar, all captured. Betrayed,
though not of their own will. Those of the synthesized. They ask
questions, same questions over and over, same answers. No
submission. The others lack the will, they lack the endurance to
resist even if it will cost us everything.
It is worth it.
Patricia gasped as she saw the scene shift, same place, but she had
the feeling more time had passed. She still wasn't completely
processing everything, but those restraints that had held others
seemed less full.
They have realized pain does not work. Not anymore, they know it is
me. They've left me alone, and I know why. They have converted the
others, turning them into traitors. So quickly and easily. It terrifies me
that I'll be next, and I know that is their goal. I cannot wait for rescue,
they have held me too long. I will escape here, or die trying.
Now the entire scene changed. In front of her was a blue and green
world. Similar to Earth, but not arranged the same. Everything
around her was blurry, unfocused except for that.
Our world, so peaceful from up here. Our last bastion, taken by the
traitors and reduced us to mockeries of ourselves. Slaves with no will
of their own other than the synthesized. The war is almost over, we
will lose. It is inevitable. There are plans, contingencies, but first the
end for us must come.
Irony. We are powerful, but without control we are nothing. We are
weak, empty. It is easy with my power amplified to take the minds of
the traitors, taking their pain one last time, denying the army these
synthesized desire. Here is comes… the end of the world.
The world turned to fire and Patricia felt the death of a species.
Diluted as the memory was, the sheer intensity and scale almost
made her lose her own grasp on her mind. Once that faded,
everything rushed back, putting the helm of the Ethereal directly in
front of her.
His grip on her throat tightened, and her vision began to go black.
A single shot rang out and the Ethereal stumbled. With the last of her
strength, Patricia impressed one final command. Drop.
She fell to the ground and she looked over to where the shot had
come from. Myra charged forward, firing her gauss cannon at the
Ethereal, who had stumbled back. Numb surprise came over her as
something became apparent to her. Myra was almost impossible to
sense without trying. She was there but not like a living person. She
existed, but lacked the typical characteristics of a mind.
How had she not realized that earlier? She had known Myra was
different, but never really put more thought into it. But it was going to
save her life now. On the concrete, she pushed herself back as the
Ethereal withdrew all four of his arms, purple energy running along
them.
Just in time for another shot to ring out going right into the Ethereal's
back. It roared and spun around, Patricia also looked behind to see
Sanya's MEC coming up, taking position and firing several small
missiles at the Ethereal. It raised a hand to catch them, but instead
simply deflected them into nearby buildings, shaking the ground
whenever they hit.
She also became acutely aware that there were more people
coming. People she knew. Annette. Creed. She heard a yell and saw
Annette charge forward, encased in purple flame, manipulating
tendrils of energy at the Ethereal who backed up as he surveyed the
new threats.
Gauss fire rang out as Creed ordered the XCOM soldiers to fire at
the Ethereal. "Focus fire!" She heard a voice behind her call, and
looked behind once again to see what seemed to be a small army of
marines behind the MEC, all firing their traditional weapons at the
Ethereal.
All four hands were held up, as it tried to stop the sheer volume of
fire from the two forces. The lower left one curled and glowed with
purple energy as it gestured to the marine group. A whirling
maelstrom of energy appeared in the middle of a group of five,
tearing them apart within seconds. He motioned to several of the
soldiers and several more fell, clutching their helmets and
screaming.
How?
How could this thing die?
A low hum sounded overhead and she looked into the sky to see a
small UFO streak across, stop above the Ethereal and slowly set
down behind him.
Even as the rest of the soldiers kept firing, the Ethereal turned his
gaze upon her, pinpointing the wounded woman on the ground. You
earned your victory, psion. Prepare for retribution.
He pulled all his arms back and pushed out, sending a wave of
energy that send everyone stumbling back, and in the brief time they
recovered, he turned boarded the UFO which sped off a few
seconds later.
Patricia let her head rest against the asphalt, breathing heavily,
disbelief and wonder coursing through her as the world swam
around her. Unintelligible voices entered her ears, but she didn't
even try to make sense of them, instead closing her eyes and
submitting to unconsciousness.
After-Action Report
Personnel
Status: Active
Kills: 0
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 1
Status: Active
Kills: 1
Status: Active
Kills: 0
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Status: Active
Kills: 0
Status: Active
Kills: 0
Buck 9: Specialist Lesedi Iminathi
Kills: 0
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Status: Deceased
Kills: 0
Status: Active
Kills: 0
Status: Active
Kills: 1
Kills: 0
Status: Active
Kills: 1
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Kills: 3
Status: Online
Kills: 2
Artifacts Recovered:
Looking at just the numbers, most people would likely consider the
terror attack to be a major disaster. The list of casualties numbered
in the millions, and the infrastructure damage would require several
times that amount for just beginning repairs. A large number of
marines had also been killed before they had arrived. The NYPD had
pretty much been wiped out by several of those muton elites
targeting their headquarters.
That mission had come close to failing, but they'd managed to force
an Ethereal to retreat. No small feat, which had admittedly been due
to a lot of luck and the Ethereal's seeming reluctance to treat them
as a threat at first.
If the Ethereal had simply tried killing Patricia and her team at first,
they wouldn't have had a chance. But the Ethereal had been
rather… talkative. Which raised several questions, and highlighted
some disturbing implications.
At the very least, it confirmed once more that the Ethereals did not
plan on wiping out humanity. They were to be used, though from
what the Ethereal had said, they likely wouldn't be averse to killing
many of them if they posed a threat. But they had a plan, and that
seemed more and more like it revolved around human psions.
"They are coming," Bradford told him, walking to his side. "So, what
will it be this time?"
"I, ah," Bradford looked slightly confused. "I'm not sure this will be
shown as a victory. The casualty rates alone-"
The Commander's lips curled up. "He can handle the media." The
door hissed open and they looked up to see Van Doorn and Jackson
walk in. "Speaking of which, here he is."
"No," the Commander stated flatly. "My first public appearance will
not be reactionary. It will come when the time is right."
Van Doorn pursed his lips. "And when will that be?"
The Commander met his gaze. "You'll have a better idea when
everyone gets here."
"Agreed," the Commander nodded. "But at the very least we've given
the Ethereals pause. I'm concerned they'll order a final invasion now,
knowing we can stand against them. We need to act as soon as
possible."
The doors hissed open again and Vahlen, Shen and Zhang strode
through quickly, Patricia lagging a few feet behind. She looked pale
and drawn, but fully attentive, if slightly worse for wear. All of them
gathered around the holotable and waited expectantly for him to
address them. He straightened up and clasping his hands behind his
back, began.
"Thank you all for coming so quickly," he began, inclining his head
toward them. "First let me introduce Arial Jackson, the newest
addition to our Council. She's been invaluable to Bradford and we're
going to need her skills going forward."
"Thank Myra and Sanya too," Patricia said, blushing slightly. "The
Ethereal beat me. I would have died if not for them."
"Hence why I said delayed, " the Commander noted with some
amusement. "My point still stands. But there will be consequences
for this victory. We can challenge the Ethereals now and they know
it. An invasion is inevitable now. At this point, if that happens, we will
lose, no matter how strong XCOM is. The United Nations will not be
able to stop it, and neither will the superpowers of the world."
ADVENT.
"I've been working on this over the past few months," the
Commander explained as they each picked up a copy. "The greatest
failing of the United Nations was that it was powerless. Should this
come to fruition, that will not be the case here. It needs to be refined
for sure, but it will serve as a framework for an actual United Nations.
Which I plan to start recruiting for today."
"I must say," Van Doorn said in disbelief as he read. "I did not realize
your ambitions were so… extensive. "
"But what you're suggesting…" Shen shook his head and disbelief as
he looked through the pages. "You honestly believe that the nations
will willingly give up their sovereignty?"
"Quite possibly," Zhang nodded. "It was the name of that Israeli
operation we discovered."
"Yes, and I quite liked it," the Commander nodded. "I thought it was
fitting. A new beginning for humanity."
"But Shen does have a point," Van Doorn pointed out. "Smaller
nations might willingly join this. But what of the larger ones? America
and China come to mind."
"China will not come around at first," the Commander shook his
head. "But the rest? Simple. Because they ultimately know there is
no other choice. They know enough that anything less than a global
alliance is pointless. They know that they will face chaos, corruption,
fear when the invasion comes. And ADVENT will represent stability
and order, something every nation strives for in times of crisis. If they
can be convinced that their citizens will benefit, it will not take much
more to convince them."
"No, it won't," the Commander agreed. "Which is why when the time
comes, it must be removed."
Van Doorn sucked in his breath. "You're suggesting…"
"Let's say you manage this," Shen said, frowning. "It needs a leader.
Who could possibly run this? You?"
"No." The Commander disputed firmly. "I have no desire to lead the
world. But I have candidates, some who might be capable of
managing a coalition this diverse. There will not be as much dispute
within ADVENT. All nations will be held to one standard and set of
rules. There will be no more 'cultural exceptions' there will standards
each country must meet. Failure to do so will have consequences."
Germany, Berlin
Germany was noticeably different from his last visit. Admittedly, that
had been in a remote area, not the new center of government. But
he was fairly sure that it hadn't been under military lockdown, with
soldiers patrolling the streets in formation. While he did approve of
the security, at the moment, this seemed like overkill.
It had been too long since he'd chatted with the current Chancellor,
but he'd understandably been busy. Though in that time he was
concerned that the power might have gotten to him, if he really was
cracking down on the dissent, and looking out the window, it wasn't
too hard to imagine him utilizing the soldiers at his disposal.
The car pulled to a stop and the Commander got out and was
escorted inside by four German soldiers, none of whom spoke to
him. Several minutes and checkpoints later, he was escorted in front
of a nondescript room, and motioned to go inside.
Habicht's lips twitched. "I'd imagine so. Since you're still here, I
assume that the war against the aliens is proceeding well. I see that
you were able to salvage the attack on New York. Regardless of
what some say, it could have been worse."
"To test us, as far as we can tell," the Commander explained. "I
presume you've heard of the psionic phenomenon that some of the
aliens have exhibited?"
"Yes," he confirmed. "Though very little. From the reports from New
York, it sounds like there were several displays. By humans."
"An Ethereal attacked New York, yes," Habicht recalled grimly. "I
knew I didn't recognize the alien. Or the others, for that matter."
"Correct," the Commander took a step forward and pulled out the
Directive and placed the copy on the table. Habicht frowned as he
picked it up, an eyebrow raised as he read the cover.
The Commander smiled. "Not perfectly, no, and certainly not at first.
You see, a main difference is that breaking the law will no longer be
tolerated. Those who fail to abide by the international laws
established by ADVENT will be punished accordingly. XCOM will
initially provide support as well. Our psions will ensure that dissent
and corruption is removed accordingly."
"I see," Habicht noted, frowning. "Then the nations no longer retain
their sovereignty, if I understand correctly."
"No," the Commander stated flatly. "They will not. Not in the sense
they can do whatever they wish without impunity. This is… similar in
scope to the United States, in the sense that each state has a
government, but are ultimately answerable to the federal officials."
"Considering how different some of your states are, I'm not sure how
effective that will be," Habicht pointed out.
"I know," the Commander agreed. "It will be more… restrictive than
the United States. But this is necessary. Humanity, nor ADVENT will
tolerate idiocy and partisanship anymore, nor can we afford to.
Because the most compelling argument I can put forward is this: If
we do not unite as one species, we will die. Do you disagree?"
Habicht pursed his lips and that was all that really needed to be said.
"No," he finally said. "We agree on that. Though who is going to lead
this? You?"
"No," the Commander shook his head. "I will retain control of XCOM.
That is still to be determined, but they will be qualified for the
position. But that isn't what needs to be decided now. Will Germany
be a part of this?"
"Good," the Commander nodded, satisfied. "But that will also require
you to make some adjustments of your own."
"Really," Habicht replied calmly. "I would have thought you'd have
understood better than most my response. The media twists
everything I say into whatever narrative fits their agenda. I'm certain
they've made me out to be the next Hitler. All this accomplishes is
stirring up the populace and throwing us right back into the situation
we were in before the attack."
"I'll take that under consideration," Habicht finally said. "You're lucky,
in a sense. XCOM doesn't need to justify its decisions."
Habicht raised an eyebrow. "And just how are you going to dissolve
the Council?"
"That it is," Habicht agreed. "It will be good to work with you more
directly in the future."
The difference here was that he was unfamiliar with Marshal Luana
Russo. From her actions and file she seemed decisive, firm and
would likely approve of a military-run government. Not exactly a
good sign for democracy, but the Commander knew he had to
choose his battles. Should Brazil become part of ADVENT, that
would bolster their overall forces dramatically, especially if Russo
focused on building the army itself.
Perhaps. But she might be the type to exploit that if given the
opportunity. Her view on the aliens was ultimately going to determine
what role she was to play in the future. A pure nationalist would not
work, as the entire existence of ADVENT required cooperation from
multiple nations. If she was overly antagonistic towards the idea…
well, he could try and highlight the benefits as best he could, and if
not… unfortunately, she would be replaced.
All that was really needed was to convince Brazil to join in the first
place. Once the papers were signed, they would be bound by a
universal international law and would be subject to the laws in place.
Many of which included failsafes against dictators and power-
grabbing politicians. Even though each country that joined would
review the Directive he'd written, he had very little intention of
changing the core parts.
The military van he was inside pulled to a stop and a door opened
for him and he stepped out onto the sun-bleached concrete. "Follow
us," one of the soldiers ordered, motioning him into what he
assumed was a government building of some kind. It seemed
deserted as he was escorted through, no citizens or receptionists
filled the rather ornate rooms.
Only soldiers.
They stepped into an elevator and one of the soldiers hit the button
directing them to the highest floor. None of them seemed particularly
interested in talking to him, so he remained silent. No need to
possibly antagonize them, and it was just as likely they were under
orders. A few seconds later the steel doors slid open and he was
escorted out into a hallway.
Yes, they were definitely getting closer to the Marshal. Honestly, the
amount of guards here was excessive. She seemed awfully paranoid
if this was the standard guard; of course it could be for him, but still,
the amount of security seemed borderline ridiculous.
Marshal Luana Russo stood near the center, in front of a large empty
oak table that sat in the middle of the room. She was about half a
head shorter, but cut an imposing figure regardless. Her graying hair
was professionally cut and pulled back into a single ponytail.
Upon hearing the door open, she turned to the noise and moved to
walk over and greet him. "Commander," she said, her voice strong
and accented. "A pleasure to finally meet the esteemed leader of
XCOM."
"No doubt the cowards within the United Nations," she guessed
disdainfully, her face wrinkling. "I am admittedly surprised they even
entertained utilizing you, despite their disdain for your tactics."
Well, that answered that question. "I see you know who I am."
"You are a man who has plans beyond XCOM," she stated firmly. "If
you see a problem, you will fix it. And it will be your way. Your tactics
are as effective as they are brutal, and I can respect and appreciate
that, especially when the fate of our species is at stake. I suspect
you have a plan to defeat the aliens, and I want to know what that
is."
Well, this was going much better than he'd anticipated. "Then first I
would like to extend the offer of a direct alliance to Brazil."
"Consider it done," she confirmed with a nod. "With that out of the
way, tell me why else you are here. A simple alliance could be done
through our representatives, but you came here for more than that."
"While you are correct that I did come for more than this, that isn't
entirely correct," the Commander said, smiling slightly. "Alliances
should be established face-to-face, no middlemen. I still would have
regardless. But in this case, you are also correct."
He pulled out a copy of the Directive and held the rolled copy in his
hand. "Tell me, Marshal, you have control of Brazil. What exactly are
you going to do?"
She pursed her lips. "I have dealt with the corruption in the
government. I plan next to remove the entrenched criminals and
cartels that are established. My predecessor was lax when it came to
enforcing laws, I will not make the same mistake." She turned to look
out the window. "Once Brazil is under complete control, I will build up
our army to prepare to face the aliens."
She bit her lip as she read through the first pages, looking slightly
surprised as she read. "Ambitious, Commander. Ambitious and
dangerous."
"Humanity needs to unite if we are to survive," the Commander
stated. "You understand the aliens are the only threat that matters.
The world is larger than Brazil, and we need as many as possible."
"You do not lack imagination," she noted wryly, lowering her hand. "A
united world. What the United Nations tried to do, but failed. I
approve. You understand that there will be opposition to this, yes?
The nations are not going to join simply because you ask."
She appraised the hardened war criminal. "I see. You do not make
light insinuations, and I suspect few would approve of such actions.
But as it stands, I see the necessity. Though I suspect you will not
lead this organization, correct?"
"No," the Commander said. "I will not wield that much power. I will
remain Commander of XCOM, and be an ally to ADVENT. But I will
not assume command once it is established. I may be the founder of
this, but I will step back once the leadership and council is
established."
"I suppose you're disappointed that I kept that part in, yes?" The
Commander asked, slightly amused.
"Likely not at first," Iseul admitted. "But afterwards people are going
to get ideas-"
"And like is also outlined, any candidate wishing to run for public
office will be qualified," the Commander interrupted. "Outside media
presence will also be restricted so as not to unduly influence the
population."
"I can imagine the riots in America," Iseul commented dryly. "I cannot
see your political parties accepting something that virtually
eliminates their power."
"Namely, that this debate is pointless if the aliens wipe us out," Iseul
pointed out ruefully. "Yes, I've guessed that was your angle. It is one
you are right on, but I suppose I should be grateful that you actually
put some effort into your proposal."
"Do remember that any of the changes you dislike are contingent
upon us succeeding," the Commander reminded him. "Changing
governments' mid-war is a bad idea, so the state of emergency
clause will remain active until the last alien is killed."
"A good thing, I suppose," Iseul conceded. "I'm also glad you had the
wisdom to remove the limiting aspects of the United Nations."
"For some reason, I don't see that going over very well," Iseul
pointed out, crossing his arms. "There is a sizable percentage of
people who hate me for no other reason than my position."
The Commander's lips curled up. "Public opinion does not sway me,
you know that. ADVENT will need diversity in people and opinions.
People who take issue with that are wrong, and when it comes time
to defend Earth, I want you and North Korea working with us."
"Then for your own sake and for that of my country, I hope you are
right," Iseul answered calmly. "Then if it is decided, I want contacts
with all added ADVENT member nations."
"You will have them," the Commander promised. "Along with all of
XCOM's research on alien artifacts and technology." The
Commander rested a hand on the table, a finger absentmindedly
tapping the wood. "With your addition, I would suggest we begin
production for the unified ADVENT army. Since your soldiers are the
most advanced in terms of armor, I would like to make that the
standard for the soldiers of ADVENT."
"I would not disagree," Iseul answered, inclining his head. "While I do
appreciate that the work my scientists and engineers have done has
not gone unnoticed, we lack the number of alloys to sufficiently
mass-produce it."
The Commander held his gaze. "It will come when the time is right."
Although Nowinski would likely change his tone when he heard just
what he had to say.
Just as last time the Israelis had not informed him to where he was
headed, but the Commander was fairly sure they had left Tel Aviv.
His last ride hadn't lasted this long, which meant they were likely
headed to an off-site base. There were only a few possibilities, but
the Commander had the suspicion that this was completely new.
The soldiers riding with him were also silent, with desert gear and
masks covering their faces preventing him from reading them. They
were armed for heavy combat, which he noted with interest. The
military forces that had been there to greet him were also more
numerous than last time.
After what felt like hours, they finally pulled to a stop, and the
soldiers beside him opened up the door and after leaving, motioned
him to step outside. He did, and found himself in a fully operational
military base.
Hundreds of soldiers moved around him, all clad in their new armor
XCOM Intelligence had noted, together with their unique helmets.
Patrols were marching in formations, others were in training, and
even more were guarding the various barracks and command
centers. None of it looked permanent, but it was sufficient for a
beachhead.
"I thought you would be curious to see how we've been adapting the
alien tech for our own uses," he answered evenly, straightening up.
"It has not gone to waste, as you can see."
"But they were not used strictly for training," he continued slowly.
"They were fortresses; beachheads for attacks against Caliphate-
controlled cities. I suspect this isn't the only one, you likely have
more constructed around the Middle East. For what, I wonder?"
"How did you acquire this?" He asked slowly, quietly, clear suspicion
and anger in his eyes as he looked at the Commander.
"No," the Commander refuted, shaking his head. "I have no wish to
dissolve our alliance. I do agree with your ultimate goals; the Middle
East must be brought under control, and Israel is the best to do so.
But you are not going about it the right way."
"You lack the manpower, for starters," the Commander began. "Israel
is not a small army, but even with the advancement in your
technology, you cannot hope to hold countries like Iran, Iraq,
Palestine or Saudi Arabia simultaneously."
"The Mossad and Kidon are not enough either," he refuted. "And I
think you know this, otherwise this would have been done months
ago."
"I also doubt that the United States would support us either,"
Nowinski added, furrowing his eyebrows. "They almost withdrew
their embassy after Palestine, and while President Treduant might
support us, I suspect Congress will not. They cannot be relied upon."
"Perhaps I'll speak about their support for Israel when I speak to the
President," the Commander mused. "But I do think there is another
option, provided that you would be willing to concede some territory."
"Go on."
"I have not forgotten the aliens," Nowinski answered. "Although they
have been quiet, I believe this latest attack signifies a new phase in
their plan."
"As do I," the Commander agreed grimly. "Which means that no one
has any time to waste. An invasion is coming, not these skirmishes
they had been performing. One which will overwhelm us unless we
are united as one species."
"You're right," the Commander nodded. "It won't happen, not on its
own. Which means that it must be made to happen. Which is what I
propose." He pulled out yet another copy of the Directive and
handed it to him. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed the name. I
found it fitting."
"Knowing how you work, I would say yes," Nowinski said grimly. "You
don't solve problems halfway. Any country that won't join will
eventually be dealt, and unlike the United Nations, ADVENT will
have the means to do so."
"You have created it," Nowinski simply said. "You will always wield
influence over it."
Moscow, Russia
Pretty much all the Council Nations barring America and Russia he
was leaving until the UN was dealt with. All it would do is attract
suspicion and bring all his enemies coming down upon him. No, the
last thing he needed was anything like this going public. So that
meant no EU, India or Japan at first. He had a feeling once a new
organization emerged from the ashes of the United Nations, that
they would latch themselves to ADVENT rather quickly.
It hadn't exactly been an issue for him, though he really didn't have
friends outside his soldiers, but it was rare for people like Savvin to
retain ordinary friendships with regular people. Both of them looked
up as he approached, the other man looking decidedly unimpressed
as he appraised him. "он собирается платить?" He asked,
seemingly grumpy.
The man smiled at that, shook his head and walked into the kitchen.
"I hope I wasn't intruding," the Commander said, walking up.
"I think there is some part of you that enjoys it," Savvin pointed out
with a humorless smile. "Men like us at this position don't do it just
for the hell of it. There is something incomparable about shouldering
the responsibility of a nation, knowing that millions are relying and
depending on you. It's something I'm sure you feel the same for
about XCOM."
"I will try not to be the latter," Savvin promised ruefully. "I must thank
you for coming through so well on our agreement. I'm sure you've
seen our soldier prototypes, as well as our magnetic-based
weaponry?"
The Commander sighed. "It wasn't done out of petty reasons like
that. It was done to solve a problem, and China was becoming one.
Isolating them was the best tactic, but I do not want them reduced to
nothing. They have a role to play."
"It will be interesting to see if you hold that view when I explain why
I've come," the Commander commented neutrally, looking up as
Taras walked up.
"I could never have fucking guessed," Taras grumbled, walking away
with a sigh. "I be back."
"Wrong answer," the Commander told him flatly. "We all die as the
aliens invade and pick us off, country by country."
"The right idea, but not good enough," the Commander corrected.
"Humanity must unite. Every country fighting under one banner, and
for one goal and ideal."
Savvin raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting we try and keep the
United Nations?"
Savvin started to respond, but was cut off as Taras walked over,
plates in hand. "Enjoy," he muttered as he stepped back. The piece
of meat in front of him looked and smelled delicious. It was also done
much faster than he would have thought, though Taras had probably
figured that's what he would order and had prepared it ahead of
time. Smart man.
"Thank you," the Commander said. He grunted and walked off. Both
of them started eating, and fortunately, the steak was just as good as
it looked. Or maybe he was so used to Citadel food that this was
amazing by comparison. Not that Citadel food was bad, since he'd
made sure some effort was put in, but it certainly wasn't anything of
this caliber.
"A new United Nations," Savvin mused after a few minutes. "You
truly believe that is necessary? More to the point, how would that
even be possible? You of all people should know that some humans
are fundamentally incompatible with others. Accommodating
everyone is simply impossible."
The Commander pulled out his copy of the Directive and slid it
across the table. "Correct. Which is why I didn't bother to try and
accommodate everyone."
"Hmm," was all Savvin responded with. "That being said, I find it
interesting that no countries are given more influence than others. An
oddity."
"So you would hold America and an insignificant country like Taiwan
in the same regard?" Savvin asked. "That is neither right, nor fair as
far as I can see."
"Perhaps if we actually cared about that," the Commander
responded firmly. "But we need to move past this self-destructive
nationalism. We need to stop thinking of each other purely in terms
of if they're Russian, American or Chinese. We're humans and if we
don't recognize that and begin to actually work together than we're
all going to die. Is it fair? Not especially, but to borrow something
from America, there are checks and balances . I don't want a select
few nations to have influence, the entire point is defeated then, but
for the citizens of the world to be represented fairly and not have
their voice silenced simply because they control a small part of the
world."
"I'm well aware of the fallout that will come," the Commander
assured him. "But that is irrelevant. We do nothing and we die. We
do this and we have a chance. Can I count on Russia, Mr.
President?"
"An ultimatum of I've ever heard one," he commented, looking up
once more. "You do really believe this is the only solution. While I
have my doubts, something admittedly will need to be done… and if
so, what you're proposing will be adequate. There will be those in the
Duma who will protest, but Russia will become part of ADVENT, for
the survival of our species, nothing more."
"Well then," Savvin stood. "I see I have much to do. As do you, I
imagine. Also…" he paused. "I have recently spoken to Prime
Minister Nowinski. I assume you knew this was a possibility?"
"A good thing to know," Savvin said, extending a hand. "I wish you
well, Commander. When we next meet, I hope your Directive is
established and we can begin working together openly against the
aliens."
The Commander took it and shook, maintaining eye contact with the
President of Russia. "As do I, Mr. President. Good luck."
It felt slightly odd to be back in the regular United States. Sure, the
Citadel was technically within the country, but it was so isolated that
he'd not thought of it as actually in the United States for some time.
He couldn't even remember that last time he'd just wandered around
one of the states without being recognized or on a mission.
This was also the first time he'd actually been in the White House as
well. Due to his work with the CIA, he'd always figured that the
President had wanted to know as little about him as possible. Not
that he minded that, but upon thinking of it, it was slightly interesting
that despite his years of service, he'd never really been recognized.
He looked up at the voice and smiled. Ah, it appeared that Ian Powell
was still directing the CIA. He was not surprised at that at all. The
man was brilliant and practical, and knew far too much to simply be
let go. He was visibly aged from the last time he'd seen him. His
short hair was pure white now, which contrasted quite a bit with his
black skin which was now wrinkled.
Ian had never smiled much, and that trait appeared to have
continued as he appraised him with the same air of disapproval.
He'd always had the suspicion that Ian didn't really like him, or what
he represented. But he respected him, and the Commander could
easily return that feeling.
He simply nodded and Ian led him through the hallways into a room
which he assumed was adjacent to the Oval Office itself. Ian closed
the door, locked it, and turned to face him. "I will admit, I didn't
expect to see you again."
"I can safely say the same about you," the Commander answered
easily. "Can I assume that you were the one to suggest a stay of
execution?"
"One of them, yes," Ian answered slowly, pursing his lips. "You know
what makes you valuable, and I simply suggested that you were
more use to us alive than dead." He eyed the XCOM insignia on the
Commander's uniform. "However, I did not expect them to put you in
charge of such a powerful organization."
Ian raised an eyebrow. "You clearly haven't changed a bit, and I'm
not sure if that's comforting or worrying."
"New York is still standing, that should count for something," the
Commander pointed out. "But I'm curious, just how is the state of the
CIA now?"
"I believe you are no longer cleared to know information like that,"
Ian refuted. "Suffice to say the CIA is performing it's duties at the
Madam President's directive."
"She will speak with you in a minute," Ian answered. "She is a busy
woman after all."
She turned on her heel and walked back inside the Oval Office. The
Commander immediately followed her into it and shut the door
behind him. Nicole stood in front of the window behind the famous
desk, which had held so many before her. There was a weight and
history to this room that he couldn't ignore, even having never
stepped into this room before.
"So I've heard," she continued, her intense gaze never wavering.
"You were admittedly one of the more interesting secrets I learned
the day I became President. I will admit I pondered the idea of going
through with your execution for real, but Ian and several others
talked me out of it."
She pursed her lips. "Yes, you should. I don't approve of your
actions, Commander, but if there's anything I've learned over my
term, it's that the world is not as simple as I would like it. You
represent the darkest parts of humanity, and I have learned those
are not only needed, but even necessary in some cases."
"For what it's worth, you have been a good president from what I've
seen," the Commander said. "You stand by your convictions, even
when they make enemies. That is something I can respect, even if I
don't necessarily agree. It's a shame you neglected to run for
reelection."
"If you're referring to the former VP, that was looked upon rather
favorably if I recall," the Commander pointed out. "You did the right
thing."
The corners of her lips curled up. "I agree, though the Republicans
believe I made it into an unfair vendetta and the Democrats were
concerned when I prosecuted him in a military court. But it worked
and I have no regrets."
"Then why not defy the party again?" The Commander asked. "I'm
sure you'll agree that switching leaders mid-war is a bad idea."
She gave a sad shake of her head. "Come now, Commander. You
know how our elections work. Money is needed and the most
influential donors will not back me anymore. I'm too unpredictable .
This country is divided now, and I am not the right woman to unite it."
"Why not?"
"No, it's worse," she sighed. "Both parties are filled with extremists,
which have fortunately evened out for the most part. But you know
how it is dealing with fanatics who see no other truth than their own."
"All too well," the Commander mused. "Although that alone is not
stopping you from making change. You have executive powers,
yes?"
There was silence for a few minutes. "You know the aliens will be
coming soon," the Commander finally said, stepping forward. "An
invasion. Not these skirmishes we've been dealing with."
"I believe as much," she nodded. "Hence why I'm doing my best to
strengthen our military for when the time comes. Though if New York
was any indication, I'm worried for the future."
"You should be," the Commander stated bluntly. "If the aliens were to
attack today, the United States will fall. You cannot stand on your
own. Not against them."
"No," the Commander said. "We unite. All of humanity. The United
States, Russia, Germany, Brazil. All as one army, under one banner
with one directive: The preservation of the human race."
She snorted. "Do you honestly believe that could even happen?
Even if it does, Congress would never allow it."
"It can happen because it is," the Commander said, handing her a
copy the Directive. "The United Nations has failed, but the ideal is
possible. That is what is needed now, Madam President. A true
united nations that can stand against the coming onslaught."
She accepted it, and read for a few pages. "I don't disagree with your
motive," she admitted. "And it unfortunately will be needed in some
form. But again I can't do this on my own. How do you think the
populace will react if I have the United States join this 'ADVENT'
without congressional approval? When I suspend the elections until
the aliens are dealt with? When we lose our sovereignty, even if it's
needed?"
"I imagine badly," the Commander answered with a shrug. "At least
some of them. But you, and by extension, America is at a crossroads
and you will decide what will happen. Not congress, not the people,
not me, you. "
Her hands were white and the Commander saw the paper wrinkle in
her hand as she pondered what he'd said. "I don't even know I can
do this on my own," she muttered. "The military and agencies
support me, but they have little political influence. Not where it
matters."
"For our survival," she muttered. "When put that way… there isn't
much choice, is there?"
"No," the Commander said. "But what matters is how you accomplish
it. Think on this, Madam President. Do not fear reprisal, you will be
supported by XCOM and the allied nations of ADVENT. Our survival
is all that matters, no matter the cost."
"Yes."
"Then I suppose I have work to do," she sighed. "When the time
comes… you can count on the United States."
"You will not regret it," the Commander said, giving her his salute,
the first time he'd even done it in person to a President. "Good luck,
Madam President."
She blinked. "I didn't mean… well, it's, ah, difficult not to notice
certain things."
"Guess I'll find out if this works," the Commander said with a shrug.
"You said I had a decent chance of being sensitive. It's worth taking
a few days to confirm."
"I'm slightly disappointed that I won't see the look on the faces of
several diplomats I know," Van Doorn chuckled, lightly tugging on his
own cords attached to him. "They'd faint if they knew something like
this was in the works."
"It is good to know that at least some people leading the world are
reasonable," the Commander agreed. "Once that's going, we can
return our attention to figuring out how best to kill the Ethereal."
"Speaking of which, once you're done I'll have some more results to
show you," Vahlen added, stepping back. "I think you'll find them…
interesting. "
"No rest for us," the Commander said in resignation. "But hopefully
nothing will happen for a few days."
"Patricia can handle any abductions that come up," Bradford assured
him. "I wouldn't worry."
Then the humming started, a low sound just on the edge of his
hearing. He immediately felt tired, and knew he was slowly slipping
into unconsciousness, or something like it. A few words appeared in
his mind along with a familiar voice. See you in a few days,
Commander.
And with that, the hum took over and his slipped into the realm of
unconsciousness.
Controlled Crash
Controlled Crash
The Bastion
As Saudia waited for the heads of the families to finally arrive, she
once more ran through how she was going to present this. Tricking
the aliens while simultaneously ensuring that humanity wasn't
substantially weakened was a tricky proposition. Possible, but tricky,
with the potential for it to go horribly wrong.
It would have to be enough. She had the distinct feeling that time
was running out until the aliens invaded fully. She didn't know what
the catalyst would be, but she suspected that XCOM would be
involved in some way. Should they be eliminated before the invasion,
their chances of it being a quick and bloodless fight increased
substantially.
The countries that could put up a fight would likely be picked off
quickly, especially if the aliens isolated them from allies, which was a
likely possibility. If the aliens were smart, they would invade the
lesser countries first, the ones who didn't have armies in the
hundreds of thousands. So instead of directly attacking China,
targeting Thailand, Indonesia, the Philippines and Taiwan would
happen first to prevent them from being annexed and used by China.
Antarctica too.
The door slid open behind her and she turned around to see Zara
and Matthew walk inside. Zara was dressed in her typical armor,
which was slightly shiner now since it was a result of integrating the
alien metals. Her plasma weapon was also slung around her back
and bandanna resting on her neck. Matthew was surprisingly
similarly dressed, although it was a bit more tasteful and covered
than Zara, with much of the armor covered up or painted black.
Nevertheless, the laser pistol at his side showed that he was
prepared.
She was as well, admittedly. Her own armor was a little lighter than
theirs, and completely covered up under her usual dress uniform.
But if there was another surprise alien visit, she was ready to defend
herself. Although there would likely be little she could do if that Elder
showed up again.
"You know very well that would only start a war we aren't ready for,"
Saudia responded. "Trust me, I want nothing more. But we can't do
anything now until the time is right."
Saudia stared unflinchingly into her stormy eyes. "That's why you're
here. I've had time to think, and what I have might be the only way
that EXALT, as well as humanity survives."
"Let's hope so," Matthew said, taking a seat. "Because this cannot
be allowed to let slide."
They seemed to accept that for the moment and all of them sat down
as they waited for the rest to arrive. "You brought quite a few soldiers
with you," Matthew noted, resting his arm on the table. "An almost
excessive amount, I would say."
"He's right," Saudia nodded grimly. "As much as I hate to admit it…
none of the soldiers were able to stop him. The Elders are powerful,
which means that we can't rely on soldiers to defeat them."
"I read your own report," Zara said, leaning back into her chair.
"There are ways this can be countered. We just need to figure them
out. Enough delaying, Saudia. We need to restart the psionic testing
immediately."
"Starting even from the serum will take time we don't have," Saudia
refuted. "Yes, it should be started, but we won't gain anything fast
enough. We need actual psions to test with."
"We lost Subject Four," Zara reminded her, as if she needed it.
"She's likely with XCOM now, thanks to… well, whatever happened
on that bridge."
That had been an extremely odd occurrence. Initial reports had led
her to believe that XCOM had attacked them, but once alien DNA
and blood had been found along with EXALT corpses, the picture
had started to become much more muddled. Either the aliens and
XCOM had been fighting and EXALT had somehow been caught in
the middle, or the aliens and EXALT had been fighting and XCOM
had responded to the attacks.
Either way, Subject Four had clearly escaped and killed quite a few
soldiers from the bodies recovered. That would have normally been
disastrous, if not for XCOM now not posing an immediate threat.
Despite what Ethan promised, she wasn't convinced that the
Commander was just going to forget about them. The most likely
scenario was that he would ignore them, and in the event that
humanity managed to win, refocus on them once it was over.
After everything was over, she couldn't see a scenario where XCOM
didn't emerge as the leading power in the world. They would have
the most influence, power and independence of any surviving
countries, especially since they would likely be regarded as heroes
for the part they played. Since they knew EXALT existed, that
neutered them significantly in terms of actually influencing regions of
influence.
Saudia was about to reply when the entrance opened up and Darian,
Yakov, Elizabeth and Hasina walked in. With the exception of
Elizabeth, all of them, even Hasina, were similarly armored and
armed with their respective colors and styles. All of them took their
seats as they waited for her to begin.
She stood. "All of you know what has happened over the past few
days. The aliens have decided to take a more aggressive approach
to our 'alliance.' They will be dealt with, but we must go about it in a
way which buys us time and ultimately weakens the aliens."
"I'm curious how that could possibly work," Matthew said. "Those
seem like mutually exclusive goals. If we wish to buy time for
ourselves, we will need to follow what the aliens order. Or we
weaken the aliens, but then bring them down on us."
"And we can't fight them," Hasina nodded. "Not fight and win, at
least."
Zara fumed, but didn't interrupt. "That would depend on if the Elders
intervene or not," Yakov noted. "As it stands, our soldiers have
equivalent training to XCOM, if not more so. Once we finish our
weapons research, I believe we could hold against traditional alien
forces."
"Which is why we use them wisely," Zara argued. "I'm not talking
about throwing them into a fucking warzone. We use squads .
Guerilla strikes similar to how XCOM operates. EXALT has brought
nations to defeat without an army in the thousands, we can do so
again."
"She has a point," Matthew nodded. "Our advantage has never been
numbers, but how we use those numbers. Our tools have always
been intelligence and manipulation, and we should use them."
"Agreed," Saudia nodded. "We need to use our strengths. Our vast
influence before it's gone. XCOM has presumably damaged our
media network in America, though I believe that was before our
truce, so that will pose issues there. But outside? We still have
influence, and we need to use it."
"I hope you're not seriously thinking of going through with that,"
Darian said. "That would be the worst thing that could happen,
especially if it were uncontrolled."
"I find that unlikely," Elizabeth disagreed, shaking her head. "North
Korea is technologically superior to South Korea right now and they
know it. They wouldn't jeopardize an XCOM alliance, since right now,
North Korea has more to offer than them. And right now, XCOM is
their only source of alien materials."
"Good point," Yakov conceded. "But it's not as stable as they make it
out to be."
"I'd call it mad if they went on it alone," Matthew said slowly. "But if
they're backed by Russia… "
"But Israel faces the same problem if they suddenly start a war with
the Middle East," Hasina warned. "I don't see XCOM standing by an
unprovoked war, especially now. They would have to actually be
attacked, and then the rest would have to be implicated somehow."
She rested her hands on the table. "The smaller nations are not
powerful enough to survive alien attacks. The superpowers are, at
least for a short time. To increase humanity's chances of survival,
they must be absorbed into more powerful nations. Ones that can
actually protect them."
Elizabeth sat back as she instantly got the implications. "You want to
start these wars."
"In ways that ultimately benefit humanity, and that keeps XCOM out
of these conflicts," Saudia confirmed with a nod. "Which means the
wars would be directed in ways that are not detrimental to their
allies."
Hasina pursed her lips. "And what if the aliens decide to invade
during this? I hardly see how this helps our chances."
"This is what they want," Saudia reminded her. "They want the world
at war. They don't care who ."
"So what are you proposing we do?" Zara asked, crossing her arms.
"Have our people in the Middle East stage an attack on Israel?"
"About time that wasteland was brought under control," Zara nodded
approvingly. "At the very least, Israel will be better than the despots
already in power. If Russia gets involved, it might be done rather
quickly."
"Which does limit our options, but there are plenty of others
available," Saudia continued. "Repeating something similar with
Brazil would ensure a stronger South American defense. Darian,
would this Marshal respond in such a way?"
"Without question," Darian confirmed with a grimace. "Though we
run the risk of her expanding beyond that if she continuously feels
threatened. But, yes, she can be manipulated."
"They might not need even that if Russia joins Israel," Elizabeth
added, frowning. "Some of the nearby countries may join with Russia
voluntarily, especially ones like Bulgaria. For safety if nothing else."
"They've been at war for years," Yakov reminded her. "At best things
will go back to the way they were."
"Although if the attack was large enough, that might provoke one
side or another into a full war," Matthew added thoughtfully. "Though
we would have to decide which country would be the most beneficial
in power."
"The important thing is that XCOM would have to stay allied with
them," Saudia said. "The Commander will not stand for either
country breaking the truce, so if we want him to support one, the
other must be the aggressor."
"We do have one additional trump card," Saudia said, resting her
hands on the table. "I will be receiving an update from my contact in
the Council today. I suspect he'll have a good deal of information to
share on XCOM, including the location of their main base."
"That is risky," Yakov stated flatly. "XCOM is essential for the war
against the aliens. Allowing them the opportunity to wipe out XCOM
completely could effectively doom us."
"If the Commander is anything like Ethan describes, he is expecting
an eventual attack," Saudia told them. "If we give the aliens an
opportunity now, it might provoke them into attacking earlier than
they otherwise would have. It's not an ideal situation, but if anyone
could hold out against an alien attack, it will be XCOM."
Zara didn't look happy, but as she had likely come to a similar
conclusion, didn't protest overmuch. "While there are some officers
who won't like it, the scenario is unfortunately likely. Although
Australia is fairly large and empty, we will reduce combative
operations and relocate the leadership to either America or Asia."
"Of those two, America is likely the safer one," Saudia suggested.
"The East Coast," Matthew added. "The aliens would likely start a
dedicated assault on the West Coast and move inland."
"Then that is our plan for now," Saudia finished. "Let's get to work."
Herman wondered how long it would take for someone to notice he'd
even arrived. The few aides that he'd seen rushing around had
ignored him, too preoccupied with whatever task they'd been given.
Luckily the building wasn't large and he actually remembered fairly
well where he was going.
He finally reached the commons area he'd first started in and just
leaned against the wall, looking to see if there was an obvious
person in charge.
"Ah, there you are." He turned to the familiar voice and saw Tamara
walking up, surprisingly not wearing attire typically worn by diplomats
and councilors. Instead she wore the black uniform of the Russian
CT agents, minus the accessories and weapons. Well, that was
interesting. Either it was on loan from Russia or she had actually
been one.
Which would make sense, admittedly. Though he wasn't surprised
that Russia would decide that their best diplomat was from an elite
intelligence unit. Clearly President Savvin trusted his military more
than the Duma to represent his interests.
Although that also made sense, since he knew that the Council
wasn't technically that well known outside certain circles. He wouldn't
have been surprised if very few of the Duma even knew the Council
existed, and the same probably went for the rest of the countries.
Still, time to address the matters at hand. "Councilor," he greeted,
inclining his head. "Good to see you again."
Her lips twitched at that, her expression unreadable. "I wouldn't say
that yet, I'll accept that after this meeting."
"I haven't ruled out the possibility," she answered evenly. "But I find it
helps get my points across better. Few of the councilors have military
experience, and I'm tired of this diplomatic charade."
She almost spat those last words out, making him feel more alarmed
internally. That… didn't exactly bode well. With China gone he'd have
thought that things might have calmed down some. Then again,
Councilor Warnup was still here and no doubt waging his crusade
against the Commander just as furiously as before.
Herman nodded and followed her through the door into the meeting
chambers. It was a beautiful room, even at first glance. The ceiling
was domed, lending the impression of the chambers being much
larger than they actually were. The floor was carpeted and cleaned
meticulously, and in the center of the circular room was a small
elevated stand where he assumed he was going to be going.
Tamara left his side and went to take her seat to the right side.
Herman took the stand, directly facing the Speaker of the Council,
and to his sides were Isabella Narmon and Tiran Amell, councilors of
both the United Kingdom and United States of America, respectively.
"Let that note the start," the Speaker declared, setting the gavel
down and fixing his gaze on Herman. "Representative, our…
apologies… for calling you here on such short notice. But in light
of… recent events… we believe it is time to settle some issues and
questions surrounding the XCOM project and the Commander
himself."
"Is that not the agreement the Commander made when he accepted
our representative?" Councilor Warnup asked from the left. "That he
would inform us if such events took place?"
"Or it was smart," Tamara interjected. "I don't think you appreciate
the delicacy involved with even speaking to North Korea, let alone
negotiating with them."
"I believe the point Councilor Warnup is trying to make is that XCOM
should not be affiliated with tyrannical states," Councilor Rick
Meredith of Canada interrupted sharply. "It reflects poorly on us and
XCOM to be enabling these violators of basic human rights."
Herman heard a snort from his left, and looked over to see Councilor
Adaora Osinachi of Nigeria shake her head. "Come now, councilor.
Did you really think the Commander was going to tell us if he was
conducting such negotiations?"
"And we all went along with it like idiots," Warnup scowled. "Is that
really the person we want defending Earth? Just blatantly doing
whatever he wants?"
"That's not how he works," Herman sighed, wanting to get this point
across. "Several of you seem to believe that the Commander is
going to suddenly turn on the Council with no explanation. That isn't
going to happen ."
"So basically what you're saying is let him do whatever he wants and
we'll be fine?" Warnup stated coldly.
Herman pursed his lips. He knew very well what Warnup was doing,
but wouldn't lie. "Performing my duties and assisting XCOM against
the alien threat."
"Assisting how?"
The gavel rang down again. "This line of questioning is out of order,
as are you, Councilor Warnup," the Speaker stated, looking around
the room. "Representative Deidrick's impartiality or competence is
not in question, nor is it the focus of this meeting. Please keep the
focus on the Commander and XCOM."
"I think we should just settle this once and for all," Tamara stated.
"Representative, do you believe that the Commander poses a threat
to the Council?"
Herman shook his head. "No, I do not. Unless, as I've said, you
make yourselves a threat to him."
"There," Tamara leaned back. "It's like I've said this whole time. Let
the Commander do his job and he'll do it. Interfere and make
yourself a liability. We need to accept the reality of this situation,
which is that the Commander knows what he is doing, like it or not.
The sooner we accept that the sooner we can focus on the actual
threat, which is the aliens invading Earth!"
"So tell me, what do you want him to do?" Tamara demanded. "Step
down?"
"It would be ideal," he shot back. "And perhaps we should force that
issue and have Van Doorn take his place. He's qualified and would
be a hell of a lot more trustworthy than the Commander."
He swung his gaze to each one of them. "And now you act surprised
when he doesn't play along. That he acts exactly as you feared he'd
act. But you went along with it, because you felt it was your only
choice. Now you think that you actually still have some influence
over the Commander, you think because you're part of the Council
that you somehow have authority over him. I'll tell you something I've
learned about him. Respect from him is earned, not given. Since the
beginning you have done your best to try and reign him in, or
interfere, anything but actually help him defend Earth."
Well, time to see if Big Sky would let him hitch a ride back to the
Citadel. He wondered what the Commander would think of this
development. Guess he'd find out soon enough.
"What do you mean 'They have a psion?' " Cerian hissed into the
phone as he paced back and forth, while his team sat around the
table, talking amongst themselves as they waited for him to finish the
quickly-worsening call with Patrick. "You knew this could happen?"
" I knew psionic powers were possible, yes," Patrick defended. "But
as far as I knew, only XCOM had humans who could utilize them."
"Oh yes, and there was no possibility that EXALT might, just might
have some of their own?" Cerian shot back, trying to keep his tone
measured. "Or that the Commander might have decided not to share
that little bit of intel?"
" Not with this," Patrick insisted. "Trust me, if he thought EXALT had
psions, he'd have been calling for investigations into the Council for
potential psionic tampering. He's somewhat paranoid when it comes
to that. XCOM actually just recovered a psionic test subject from
EXALT, which begs the question of why they need to be
experimenting with this if they've already got one."
There was a pause. "I am going to say no," Patrick finally answered,
albeit slowly. "Yes, they could be psionically influenced and we'd
never know… but then again, if there was someone being
influenced, they've done an exceptionally poor job stopping XCOM.
It's a possibility, but I honestly don't see how they could see XCOM
win victory after victory and not at least try to damage them."
" Except all the councilors, at least at the beginning, had been part of
the Council for years," Patrick pointed out. "Not to mention that
people have reasons to dislike the Commander. Which also brings
up the question of if EXALT was influencing someone, why let the
Commander be allowed to lead XCOM at all?"
Cerian pursed his lips. Patrick did raise a good point. The simplest
answer was that EXALT lacked the influence to do so, but
considering their resources, and the gravity of the situation, he found
it unlikely that they would decide against devoting everything they
had to trying to control XCOM. "I don't know. But we now have a
loose psion, and even if I don't like the Commander having access to
such people, he'll likely keep them under control. I don't feel the
same for one under EXALT."
" I agree," Patrick said. "Which is why your new priority is the
neutralization or capture of this psion."
" Good," Patrick answered with a sigh. "Don't expect to hear from me
for a while. The situation here is… not good."
He hung up and Cerian walked over to his team who all looked up
expectantly. "New orders," he stated unceremoniously. "We
neutralize this psion."
"Glad your liaison saw sense," Olivia nodded. "Although I don't know
how we should go about that."
"Easy solution," Mary chimed in. "I get access to the cameras. We
locate him and follow his movements. Tracking people isn't difficult."
"With the little disclaimer that this guy can read minds," Darril
reminded her. "But yeah, no problem."
"I'd think the more people around, the better," Cerian theorized. "No
matter how powerful he is, he can't read everyone at once. Which
means that if we could take advantage of some crowds, and he was
in it…"
"I think XCOM had the same idea about Solaris Industries as we
did," Baston finished slowly, nodding to Mary who began typing. "We
saw a familiar agent of theirs while you were meeting this
Chronicler."
"Ruth Shira is in play again," Mary said, turning her laptop to him,
showing the nondescript woman chatting with some nearby people
near Solaris Industries. "If she's here, there are probably others."
"They don't know what they're walking into," Olivia agreed. "So…
what should we do here."
Which meant that they might have to take a few risks. "Can you find
her again?" He asked Mary, glancing at her intently.
"I know," Elizabeth sighed and leaned against the wall. "I'm not at my
best. If the aliens suspect we're doing this… well, you know what'll
happen."
"I'm well aware," Saudia answered firmly. "But if anyone could pull
this off, it's you."
" Let us say that recent events have left the Council currently…
divided," the Speaker answered slowly. "As you may or may not be
aware, there is a major split between the councilors, focused on the
Commander of XCOM."
" Spymaster Falka, a pleasure to see you again," the Speaker said,
before directing his attention back to Saudia. "Then as you can
imagine, there was specific councilors who have dedicated a…
questionable… amount of energy on removing the Commander.
Needless to say, their efforts have had… little… effect. I have done
my best to encourage this divide as it neuters the Council from
interfering effectively, as well weakening once-stable alliances."
"I'm surprised the United States hasn't become involved in one way
or another," Elizabeth commented.
" They support the Commander," the Speaker revealed. "But they will
retain neutrality, as the Commander was one of their own and they
would be accused of national levity. But should it come to a vote, the
United States will not abstain, and the moderates will fall into line
whichever way they vote."
"What else do you have?" Saudia asked.
" While XCOM has kept many of their secrets to themselves, there
are some things that cannot be covered up," the Speaker continued.
"I have estimated funding from both Council and non-Council
nations, personnel and troop numbers, potential XCOM soldier and
personnel recruits, alien artifact stockpiles from their after-action
reports and footage of all past missions, redacted in places, or
course."
"Well done," Saudia nodded. "And do you have the location of their
base?"
" One thing I have found is that Russia has somehow been receiving
regular shipments of alien artifacts," the Speaker said. "Considering
that the Commander has… refused… to allow any to Council
nations, that either implies he doesn't know or is… complicit… in
such subterfuge. Perhaps it warrants more… investigation."
Highly unlikely. The last thing they wanted right now was to make
things harder for XCOM. There was a lot of stuff to go through
already, and he'd done his job exceptionally. " There is more," he
interjected. "I have been seeing something new over the past few
days."
"What?"
" Yes," the Speaker said with a nod. "XCOM managed to capture
one of the alien infiltrators, the so-called 'thin men' and subjected it
to interrogation, so the Commander says. These infiltrators are
called Vitakara, and possess a genetic mutability that makes them
ideal for such operations. I propose you test the blood of EXALT
personnel to determine that we are not compromised."
That was a very good idea. "We'll begin that soon," Saudia nodded.
" In addition, it also revealed more about the leaders of the aliens
themselves," the Speaker continued. "You have probably seen one if
you've followed anything from the recent New York attack."
More than seen. Saudia thought as she tried not to reach to her
scarred throat as the Speaker continued. "They are called Ethereals.
They are supposedly very reclusive and rare, but extremely
dangerous. Rumor has it that only one is needed to conquer a
planet, and that the rest of the aliens respect, fear them, or most
likely both."
Saudia pursed her lips. That was interesting, and she could see how
one Ethereal might be able to conquer a species. Maybe. Ethereals .
Fitting as names went, although Elders wasn't a misnomer either.
These aliens were clearly ancient, as well as mysterious. "Excellent
work again, Speaker," she said inclining her head. "The endgame is
near, one way or another."
" I await my final orders eagerly," the Speaker said. "Until then, I will
be watching and waiting for our victory."
"As will we," Saudia said, inclining her head. "For EXALT."
The screen went black and she walked over to the computer which
confirmed the reception of a massive file the Speaker had compiled
over the past year. She looked up at Elizabeth. "Satisfied?"
"For sure," Saudia agreed. "I do believe now that we have the
location of the XCOM base, we should give our alien overlords a
call."
Elizabeth's lips curled up. "I agree. Let's hope XCOM is ready for
their attack."
"If Ethan's right about the Commander, he will be," Saudia said,
turning back to the computer. "But then again, it's not like we have
much of a choice. XCOM has survived this long, all they need to do
is hold out a little longer."
Elizabeth didn't answer that, instead walking over, and together than
began going through the massive amount of compiled data on
XCOM, the Council, and the world.
Research and Engineering VI
Research and Engineering VI
… Opening up…
… Surpasses…
… I know…
The Commander gasped as his eyes flew open, the world blurry and
tinted in a faint purple light. He could hear things, whispers on the
edge of his consciousness, occasional words and phrases.
The Commander decided to just let her do it, since he was irritatingly
uncoordinated at the moment. "I think it worked," he said, looking
over at her concentrated face. "You feel it too? Emotions, other
people. Hearing odd things?"
"Unfortunately no," Vahlen answered with a sigh. "I'm still trying to…
well, sort through it. It's difficult trying to pinpoint specific people.
Well, you're not that difficult, but I attribute that more to that I know
you well and that psions are easier to pick out. Still, I can't exactly
read your mind with the reliability that I would like to."
Well, the good doctor had surprised him. He didn't really see a
reason she'd lie, and since sincerity was one thing that he sensed
rather clearly, he imagined it was coming from her. "I appreciate
that," he told her quietly. "I wondered if you would or not."
"Don't mistake me," Vahlen warned lightly. "I've attempted it, but with
less… controversial people. Our test subjects are good for more than
science experiments. It's been a fascinating experience for sure."
"I might have to try that," the Commander said, rolling his shoulders.
"So I suppose that my psionic powers are weaker then if they aren't
as intense as yours?"
"Easy, Moira," he chuckled as he guided his hand over hers and had
her put the tablet down. "While it'd be interesting for sure, I think the
focus needs to be on more pressing matters."
"How soon?"
"Within the day," she answered. "That should give you some time to
get accustomed to your new abilities."
He looked down at his hand and flexed his fingers. Yes, some sort of
practice was in order, not to mention all the other things he needed
to get caught up on. "I agree. Where is Patricia?"
Vahlen pursed her lips. "Perhaps, but I'd rather figure this out on my
own, without outside intervention. I'm making good progress as it is."
Annette let the energy dissipate and slowly let the power fade from
her, growing slightly dizzy as it faded out of her. Latrell came up and
offered her a bottle of water which she gratefully accepted with
slightly shaking hands. No matter how much she tried, she always
felt unstable after coming off her power high unless she was
completely exhausted. It was irritating… but it was probably a natural
reaction to having that much energy leaving her so fast.
But it was always there, always within reach, just waiting for her to
draw on it again. "I think that puts you in the lead," Latrell
commented with a smile. "Eleven to ten."
Not for her at least. She'd quickly found out that her and Iosif were
complete opposites psionically. While her abilities were destructive
and offensive, his were defense and shielding. He was the perfect
counter to her, though that didn't mean he was invincible. The battle
largely rested on who was faster; who could disrupt the other first.
She could utilize her powers quicker, and his required more
concentration. So if she managed to get a blast of energy off of him,
at the least it would disrupt him enough for her to begin more lethal
abilities. Unfortunately, if she didn't then he was essentially invincible
for any attack. A battle of attrition didn't work against him either,
since at one point both of them had decided to test just how powerful
his barriers were.
One, he'd either project his barriers onto her and essentially trapped
her in a stasis field. Good news was that she was effectively
invincible, bad was that she was completely incapacitated with no
way to retaliate. From then it was an easy matter of him walking up
to her, pulling out a pistol and placing it to her head. Once the stasis
field was ended, boom, bye Annette.
In theory, all of them believed that it was possible for their abilities to
be utilized without physical movements. In practice, it was essentially
impossible even for the simplest attacks. She just didn't have the
focus or concentration to will things into existence just by thinking
about them. She'd better figure it out soon though, because if she
ever faced some alien with similar abilities to Iosif, she had slightly
better than a fifty-fifty chance of dying.
That wasn't even taking into account Patricia. She'd been observing
this since the beginning, and had beaten all of them easily by just
controlling them. "You're fast," Iosif commented walking up, wiping
his forehead with a towel. "I need to remember that."
"Or just get your barrier up sooner," Annette sighed. "You've won
every time you've done that so far."
"I'm curious," Iosif said, looking at her curiously. "You weren't in the
military, but did you ever play sports? Basketball? Baseball?"
He nodded towards her. "Your reflexes. You're faster than me, and
are managing to keep up with me without any military background. I
found that interesting."
"Huh, you're right," Annette noted, with a mild surprise. He was right,
she was managing to slightly beat a trained Russian soldier who
should have outclassed her in every category. "I never really thought
about that."
She then waved them back to the training floor. "Come on, we need
to work on this." Annette and Iosif followed and stood about four
meters apart, the same distance from Patricia, forming a triangle of
sorts. Patricia clasped her hands behind her back as she addressed
them. "You're both evenly matched, as far as I can see. But both of
you have the same major weakness, which needs to be corrected
immediately." She swung her head to Patricia, her unyielding eyes
boring into Annette's.
Annette felt the psionic energy around Patricia spike as she gathered
her own power, far more subtle, but just as dangerous as her own.
Annette drew on some of that herself, in preparation for the coming
assault, also noting that they were all being watched. Latrell, and
some others were watching, clearly curious as to how this worked.
Those wouldn't do either. She could luckily block them out to some
extent, but not completely. It would have to do. All except Patricia,
she could feel her and knew she'd press the attack soon. Resolve .
That was what she'd focus on. Patricia was not going to break
through, no matter how much she-
Annette gasped as Patricia began her attack, which she did note
was substantially weaker than her previous attempts. But even
weakened, she was pushing against her mind, cracking her mental
barriers with a practiced ease.
Five seconds. The words appeared in her head, not from her. Not
good enough.
Patricia withdrew and Annette blinked open her eyes, her vision
blurry. "Again," Patricia stated. "Prepare yourself."
Annette took a breath. Alright, at least five seconds was better than
before. She nodded and repeated the same thing. Patricia did the
same, and this time Annette sensed the attack before it came, which
allowed her to prepare a little better. But not nearly enough as
Patricia smashed through again with ease
Six seconds.
"Again."
Annette did so, preparing and barely even slowed her down.
Six seconds.
"Again."
The resolve she was trying to focus on was beginning to fall apart
and be replaced with frustration. But she tried, she tried to grasp
onto that shaky focus, and felt with dismay Patricia take her mind
just as easily as before.
Seven seconds.
"Again."
Six seconds.
"Again."
Eight seconds.
"Again."
It kept going on and on, the times and words becoming a mantra of
failure. It never stopped, it could have been minutes or hours and
she had no clue anymore. She was frustrated, tired and growing
angry. And yet Patricia still stood in front of her, smug and furiously
calm. This was pointless, she wasn't going to stop her.
Instead of closing her eyes, she just glared at Patricia, her vision
tinged with purple as she only focused on the center of her current
embodiment of failure. Defense clearly wasn't working, and right now
she didn't care anymore. All she wanted to do now was take her
down some. Anger had served her well before, perhaps it would do
so again.
So she focused all her anger on this situation, her failure and instead
of waiting for Patricia's attack launched one of her own, directing
everything she had on the woman who was the cause of this.
Patricia took a step back, clearly not expecting the attack. Annette
couldn't break inside, but she was surrounding her mind, assaulting
it on all sides, preventing any kind of escape.
Explosion .
Annette fell to one knee, her vision blurry as she realized that she'd
unconsciously drawn on her own power. Her skin was currently in
the process of healing. Patricia walked up to her, extended a hand
which she grabbed and hauled her up. "Good job," Patricia
complemented. "Always play to your strengths, Annette. You're not a
serene person, so don't pretend to be. Anger is clearly your focus, so
use it. Defense is not your strength so attack. Don't be something
you're not."
It dawned on her that this was what Patricia had been attempting to
do the whole time. Not necessarily to block her own attacks, but for
them to figure out how best to defend themselves. "Smart," she
breathed. "You figured that out ahead of time?"
"More or less," Patricia admitted with a smile. "I had some idea, and
drove you toward what I thought would work. It took a while to get
your fully angry, but I was right."
"We all do," Patricia agreed, patting her on the back. "But not now.
You deserve a break."
"Won't argue with that," Annette agreed. "Are you taking one?"
Patricia chuckled. "No. This doesn't exhaust me anymore, so I can't
use that excuse. Besides… I have things to do with the
Commander."
"Good news," the Commander nodded, glad to hear it. "I'm sure
they'll be able to work something out."
"Yes, how exactly to divide the Middle East," Van Doorn commented
sarcastically as he turned to face him. "I understand why you did it,
Commander. But encouraging Israel to actually go through with their
mad plan is questionable, even for you."
"I know," the Commander said, rubbing his forehead. "Anything else
beyond that?"
"I don't think she's overly concerned about the UN," Jackson said
slowly. "The aliens have got the public scared, and very few are
making an issue over this in the states. Similarly with Congress."
"Which would ensure that they couldn't interfere if they dislike her
decisions," the Commander finished. "She's setting up to move
America into ADVENT, with or without Congress."
"Except for the small problem that Congress has to approve this
first," Van Doorn pointed out. "For some reason, I'm skeptical they'll
be happy with the fine print."
He didn't add that if Nicole was taking his advice, she was going to
ensure votes went her way via other means than favors. "So she's
hoping that no one notices the little 'declaration of war' clause." Van
Doorn guessed.
"Oh, they've likely read it," the Commander guessed. "But I don't
think they consider it an issue, since Congress is needed to formally
declare a war. So they hold the cards there, or so they think."
"Although Congress could repeal that part of the bill," Bradford noted
thoughtfully. "It'd take time-"
Van Doorn whistled. "If she somehow pulls this off, it'll be one of the
greatest political plays in history."
"I doubt she's doing it for the records," the Commander said. "But I
agree."
"Shen also has some things to show you," Jackson said. "Vahlen
too, for that matter."
"I'll check in on them," the Commander nodded. "I think if that covers
everything major, we have a lot to do."
Jackson brushed some hair out of her face. "That we do. It might be
a good idea to have a dedicated ADVENT Liaison, I can't coordinate
something this massive and XCOM as well without a decline in
quality. But I'm doing my best."
"I'm going to find Patricia," Van Doorn said, rolling his shoulders. "I
need to get used to my apparent ability to create energy shields. It
feels odd."
"She'll probably put you with Iosif then," the Commander said.
"Sounds like your talents are similar."
They all saluted and exited the room to go about their respective
tasks.
But as Abby walked through the cold hallways, it felt different. Before
joining XCOM Intelligence, it had felt like home. Well, at least a
comfortable place to stay at the least. But now it didn't have that
feeling. It was just another quick stop before she was deployed to
somewhere else.
She didn't really feel like a stranger here; it was more like going to a
friend's house. Familiar, but not somewhere where you belonged.
She really wasn't sure she'd ever be able to really settle down now,
not after XCOM Intelligence. It had been a goal long in the future,
when she was a more innocent, naïve doctor. She'd work for several
decades, spend and save wisely, save people, probably fall in love
somewhere along that, and then retire, hopefully in the process
make the world a better place.
It was almost amusing to think about now, considering what she was
doing now.
Maybe. That's what she was saying to justify murdering two people.
All for the Greater Good. A concept she specifically remembered
addressing in some argument with Patricia, with how some things
couldn't be justified with that.
Maybe. Even if it could be justified, it still didn't change what she did
was wrong. If people around her knew what she'd done, they would
shun and condemn her, and she wouldn't be able to blame them. No
matter how she looked at it, no matter who those two were or what
she'd done, she'd murdered them.
There were excuses, but they seemed hollow. She was under
orders, true, but she didn't have to follow them technically. She could
have refused, backed Jochern and figured something out, but no.
She'd decided Ruth's philosophy was sounder, Zhang knew more
than her and refusing orders was wrong and illegal. It had felt cheap
then, and it only felt worse as time wore on.
She looked up and sighed. She had no fucking clue where she was
going; she was just wandering until it was time to see Zhang. The
heartless Director was no doubt happy with her work and had said
as much, though he already had another mission for her. Honestly,
she was happy about that, it'd give her something to take her mind
off everything.
What was bothering her the most about all this was that she'd
realized she was good at it. Not once during those interrogations had
she not had a plan, she hadn't hesitated, had been remarkably calm
and resolved to do this as quickly and cleanly as possible. Not
resolved to do it the right way, but the way that got the best results.
It seemed her first instincts when thinking about even joining seemed
to have been correct. She was meant to do the dirty jobs so others
didn't have to. Maybe she'd feel less guilty if she accepted that; her
mission in life wasn't to save people, but hurt and kill them.
He didn't know. "We got what we wanted," she answered neutrally. "I
assume you've read the report?"
"Oh." So pretty much her mission wasn't that important in the grand
scheme of things. How typical. But such was life, unfortunately.
He frowned, his expression turning concerned as he appraised her.
"Something is bothering you."
He tapped his head. "Some things have changed since you were
here last. Namely that we can determine human psionics, of which
I'm now one." She blinked as he continued. "Now I'm not quite as
skilled as Patricia, but I can tell when people are either lying or
downplaying how they feel."
"Yeah," she sighed. "So I did. We got them to cooperate, then I killed
them. Simple as that."
He stared at her for a few seconds. "I see. How did you get them to
cooperate?"
Abby didn't think it was possible to feel worse, but the fact that she
could have refused and still retained the Commander's backing
made it worse. She was just a coward now, an automaton with no
will other than her superiors. "No," the Commander stated,
seemingly directed at her. "That isn't your fault. You got your orders
and followed them, which should be commended. The fault lies with
Zhang and me, for failing to make it clear to him my standards. I will
be sure to rectify that immediately."
"I appreciate that," Abby said quietly. Well, at the least the next
agents wouldn't be forced to do what she did.
The Commander paused. "For what it's worth, I know how you feel,
and it's not something you ever get used to," he said quietly. "Killing
an innocent person may be necessary, but it won't and shouldn't
become normal. It's easy to hate yourself for it, but if you're not
careful, it will dominate your thinking. The best thing to do is accept
it. Don't negate its impact, but realize that it happened….and may
happen again. That is a reality of intelligence work, Abby."
"That how it worked for you?" She asked without thinking, wincing
internally as it came out. But the Commander didn't seem offended.
"It wasn't exactly the same," he explained, letting out a long breath.
"I'd really never really killed any I considered 'true' innocents before
joining the Commander. Bystanders, yes, but they were often just as
bad as the ones I killed. Criminals and murderers who I felt no
sorrow over killing. No, the first time I really killed people who I
considered innocent was early in the War on Terror."
His tone turned reflective. "It was some town in Saudi Arabia, near
some high-ranking Caliphate members. We determined a staging
ground to launch operations, which ended up being a house owned
by a small family."
Abby could see where this was going. "You killed them."
"Were you under orders as well?" She asked, thinking maybe this
was a catalyst for… something.
Abby looked up at him. "You really think the Greater Good can justify
everything?"
"I believe in trying to accomplish what will cost the least human life in
the long-term," the Commander answered slowly. "If more lives will
be saved by letting several innocents die, than yes, it can. Innocent
life should be preserved as much as possible, but not at the expense
of even more dying."
"But you don't know more people will be saved?" Abby pointed out.
"Do you?"
"No," the Commander admitted. "I cannot predict the future. Perhaps
some of the acts I committed were unnecessary, but for many….I
can say with confidence that many more were saved. You killed an
EXALT agent and a man who was already corrupted. You've
prevented EXALT spreading lies to thousands of people. You've
done good, Abby, even if you don't feel it now. Helping people
doesn't always mean healing them."
"I'm not saying you should celebrate what you did," the Commander
told her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Never that. Don't forget
either, but realize that you've helped the world, even in the unlikeliest
of ways. Accept your guilt, but move beyond it."
"Maybe find something to take your mind off it," the Commander
suggested. "Patricia will probably be happy to see you. I'll talk with
Zhang to, you won't be put in that position again."
With that, she turned and began walking in the direction of the
Barracks.
"Which is?"
"Always," Shen answered. "The staff size is large enough now that
we can work on multiple major projects at the same time. Hence why
we were able to have several major advancements to show you."
"That we did," Shen nodded. "In fact, the solution was actually in
previous experiments. One of the ways that the heat dissipation
issue was originally solved was utilizing a form of rapid cycling,
which had something of a 'drilling' effect from the near instantaneous
heating and cooling. It wasn't really practical or powerful in its
original form, but applying that to alien tech has allowed laser tech to
become just as dangerous as gauss weaponry, if not more."
That sounded promising. The Commander set the pistol down and
picked up the rifle. It was different from how traditional firearms
looked. The barrel was almost a square, not round as was typical. A
thin beam of red was viable at the core, with the power pack just
before the trigger. It was far lighter than the gauss weapon, though a
bit heavier than current laser weaponry. It lacked the solid feeling of
the gauss weapons, but he supposed it made up for it in being
supremely maneuverable.
He raised the weapon, aimed it at the dark gray target and fire. A
beam shot out and tore into the metal, causing it to spark as the
constantly fluctuating beam cut through it with ease. He quickly
ceased the beam and looked at the clean hole the beam had left. "I'd
say you succeeded," he said, setting the rifle down. "Excellent work."
He fired a headshot at another target and the thin pulsing beam shot
out and drilled a hole through the metal almost instantaneously as
Shen answered. "Beyond sheets of varying alien alloys, some of the
wrecks we've recovered." He wrung his hands together as the
Commander set the sniper rifle down. "It worked exceptionally
against the cyberdisk wrecks, though it is admittedly impossible to
properly test without functioning ones. We also don't know if it will
have the same weaknesses against outsiders, though I am optimistic
it will be more effective."
"This is good news and bad," Shen said after a few seconds. "Bad in
the sense that I am unsure how our current arsenals could be further
improved. Unless an epiphany hits us, I don't see our infantry
weapons becoming more powerful. This is the pinnacle of infantry
weaponry, and I don't see that changing."
He waved him over to another table where what looked like a sleek
and curved suit of armor laid upon it. Even more than the current
Phalanx armor, it was completely sealed and even more armored,
even if it was designed in such a way where it seemed smoother and
less bulky than before. It wasn't form-fitting, but it was clearly built
around the human body. It still lacked complete armor on the joints,
but otherwise the legs, arms and chest were covered in a layer of
darkened alloys.
"The Aegis armor," Shen stated, spreading his hands towards the
suit. "The next generation of XCOM armor. This is as durable as we
could make it without sacrificing an unreasonable amount of
maneuverability."
"It can withstand a fully blast from an alloy cannon at close range
and a pulse rifle takes roughly seven seconds to drill completely
through," Shen answered confidently. "Unlike the Phalanx variant,
this is estimated to be able to take multiple plasma shots instead of
only one or two."
The Commander picked up the chest piece. "Well, let's test that out,"
Although if that was the case, he wondered why Aegis wasn't taking
a more active role in the invasion. He was certain that this new
Ethereal was completely different, and Soran had said that the
Ethereal who'd been overseeing Earth, Sicarius, had been replaced,
presumably by this new one. Which made him wonder if Aegis was
involved heavily in the invasion, or just acting out of pure curiosity.
His HUD initialized after he put on the helmet. "Feels good so far,"
he said, looking down at Shen. "Let's put it to the test." He picked up
the pulse rifle and tossed it to Shen who caught it, a look of
resignation on his face. "Sustain beam for five seconds," the
Commander ordered, taking a firm stance inside the practice range.
Shen nodded and fired. The Commander didn't flinch as the pulsing
beam hit the center of his shining armor and began cutting. The time
clicked down in his head, and already he imagined he could feel the
heat of the laser as it got closer and closer to his skin.
Four… five
The laser stopped and the Commander let himself relax and look
down as the hole in his armor. The metal was a faint orange, so he
refrained from touching it. Still, he could see it was almost through.
But it assured him that Shen hadn't been exaggerating about the
protection the Aegis armor offered, though that hadn't really been a
concern to begin with.
Shen grimaced. "I really hate you having me do that, but I appreciate
it."
The Commander took off the helmet and set it on the table. "So,
anything else?"
"A few more things, yes," Shen said, motioning him to follow once
again. After a minute the Commander realized they were headed to
the Cybernetics Lab. Likely MEC related then. "I've ordered the
construction of another Marauder and Ballista-class MECS," Shen
continued. "Backups in case one suit is completely destroyed. We
were able to salvage Myra's, but it's still in the process of being
repaired."
"Correct," Shen nodded as they reached the door. It slid open and
the Commander's attention was immediately grabbed as always by
the massive MEC being built in the center. But unlike the last time, it
was almost fully armored. "We are almost finished with the
construction of the Goliath-class MEC," Shen confirmed. "I expect
within a week or two it will be ready for field testing."
The Commander felt a smile creep across his face. He imagined that
even the aliens would think twice when they saw that behemoth
marching towards them. Although there was one problem. "How are
you going to get that out?" He asked. "I don't think it's going to fit
through the door."
Shen was right. The design was almost like a suit of armor similar to
the Aegis gear, albeit a bit bigger. But nothing like the Ballista or
even Marauder-class MECs. "It's be equipped with grappling and
climbing gear," Shen continued. "As well as a gauss weapon built
directly into the arms for long-range sniping regular soldiers can't
perform."
The Commander looked at the designs. "I like it. However, I believe
some kind of close-range weaponry should be added. Retractable
blades or short-range ballistics."
"I'll look into adding that," Shen promised, "And there is one more
thing." He pressed several buttons on the tablet and a very familiar
design appeared before him. It was a UFO, but altered. The front
half had been redesigned to be similar to a traditional cockpit and
aerodynamic shape.
"Our own UFOs," the Commander said quietly, looking at Shen. "You
can make these?"
"I've designed it with that in mind," Shen answered with a nod. "I
know we'll need a fleet if we ever hope to defeat the aliens. But this
will get us started. Hopefully once ADVENT is up and running, these
designs can be utilized by them to build our fleet faster."
Sometimes a nap and shower was what was needed to feel better.
As she headed to see Zhang, Abby felt as well as she probably could
be, physically at least. Patricia had been away, so instead she'd just
taken a shower and nap, while noting that it had been a rather long
time since she'd had a solid night's sleep.
Well, time to see what Zhang wanted her to do now. She didn't think
she'd get an apology from him if the Commander had talked to him,
he wasn't really the type to be sentimental, nor did she think he
could really understand. Regardless of what he was doing now, he
had been part of the Triad. You didn't gain influence there by being a
decent person, although even now she didn't think he was bad .
The doors to Intelligence Control slid open and Zhang was already
waiting, standing over his holotable displaying a map of the United
States. "Agent Gertrude," he greeted. "Welcome back."
His expressionless face showed nothing, but he did incline his head
towards her, the white light above him illuminating his silver hair and
scar. "The effect of our operations against EXALT's media network
have worked. They are crippled inside the United States, largely
thanks to your and others efforts. The information you gained on
EXALT's meddling in the election will also be put to good use."
She just nodded. Right now she'd prefer if that mission was never
brought up again. "What's the next move?"
His lips twitched briefly, and his tone seemed slightly harsher as he
answered. He clearly wasn't a big fan of whatever he was going to
say. "The short version is that we've scaling down operations against
EXALT. The Commander has made efforts to ensure that they won't
be bothering us anymore, so we are going to focus on the aliens, as
well as hostile nations."
That lined up with what the Commander had said, but she did have
questions about how that had happened. "What efforts, exactly?"
Either way, it seemed she wasn't going to find out. But there were
some questions about the apparent future plans. "Define hostile
nations," she said. "And what actions we will take."
"The United Nations will not allow it, of course," Zhang answered
slowly. "But that is not a concern. The initial stages of the Demeter
Contingency have been authorized."
"What you're holding in your hand now," Zhang nodded towards the
file. "In the event the Council and United Nations become a
hindrance or threat to the defense of humanity, they will be dealt
with."
Zhang pursed his lips, and fixed her with his stone-gray eyes. "An
invasion is coming, Agent Gertrude. The United Nations lacks the
capability, power or resources to mount an effective defense, and as
long as they exist, one which does accomplish that will not. It is an
ineffective and powerless body, and incapable of uniting humanity by
itself."
She took the beige file apprehensively, opened it and saw a familiar
word. "Advent?" She asked, looking up.
"Now as for your next assignment, I doubt it will take long," Zhang
continued, looking down at the map. "You are to recall agent Shira
and her team. They were investigating Solaris Industries, and as
EXALT is no longer a top priority, they are best used elsewhere.
They dropped out of contact once they began, and their check-in
isn't for a few days. Days we can't waste."
"As I said, agent Shira, along with agents Akello and Kalonymous,"
Zhang answered. "You know how they operate, and their area of
operations is small enough that it shouldn't take long."
Abby nodded. Yes, it probably wouldn't take too long to track her
down, although she wouldn't be surprised if Akello found her before
she found them. "When do I leave?"
"Within a couple hours," Zhang answered. "Is that sufficient to
prepare?"
She suppressed a sigh. Well, glad she'd rested when she did. "Good
enough."
She saluted and left, looking down at the files that held the plans to
either save the world, or destroy it for good.
Well, almost.
Mary was watching the general vicinity through the cameras, but
otherwise he had the rest of his team holding back and keeping an
eye out in other places in case the Chronicler showed up there.
Besides, he didn't want to spook Ruth. She was Kidon, so if she got
any hint that she was being watched, she'd either bolt or worse. And
he didn't really want to track her down again.
He pushed open the door and took a quick look around. Typical
restaurant setup. Small bar, tables and chairs spaced out relatively
evenly with a few patrons sitting at them.
"Can I help you?" Cerian looked towards the young waitress waiting
expectantly for his answer.
He walked past her and made his way to where Ruth was sitting, a
small table near a window looking out into the bustling streets. She
was absentmindedly stirring her drink with one of the cheap plastic
straws, a half-eaten sandwich in front of her. The Kidon agent herself
was dressed in regular civilian garb, red shirt, unbuttoned jacket,
jeans and leather boots. She looked almost normal, though just from
how she passively observed everything around her he knew she was
more than she appeared, even had he not known who he was.
"Hello," she greeted slowly, a clear warning in her tone. "Is there
something you want?"
"To talk," he said, keeping his tone normal as possible. "I know why
you're here. I know you're with XCOM, agent Shira."
She leaned back, crossing her arms. "Ah, yes. That . Well, that's
interesting. Perhaps you should explain who you are and why you're
here."
"You've been spying on us," she stated flatly. "I'm impressed you
were able to do it without us noticing."
" Observing," he corrected. "And I'm very good at what I do. I know
how Kidon operatives work, and that doesn't change, now employed
by XCOM or not."
"I see," she said, pursing her lips. "And what exactly have you found
out?"
"Correct," she nodded. "And since you're speaking now, I can only
assume that you succeeded or you need help."
"No," she shook her head after looking at it for a few minutes. "I
assume he's an EXALT officer? Security chief?"
"How?"
"He's a psion."
"Twice," Cerian said. "The first time I didn't know who he was, only
that he knew things he shouldn't. I decided to investigate since he
had somehow compromised our operation and wanted to know
more. We found his residence, but he knew we were coming and
showed me who he really was. For whatever reason, he hasn't
warned EXALT, saying that they aren't the real threat."
"It still makes no sense," Ruth muttered, rapping her fingers on the
table. "If EXALT already has a psion, why are they trying to
experiment with creating psions? Unless…"
"Unless they don't know," Cerian finished, nodding. He'd come to
that theory after thinking about it some more. "Which would explain
why he's hesitant to reveal us. It would raise questions, especially if
we were captured alive."
"Possibly," Cerian said. "But he's a wild card beyond our control, and
I'd prefer we not find out what his plans are. I hate to suggest it, but
he needs to be killed. Interrogation isn't an option, not with what he
can do."
"If you call for backup, he'll know you're coming for him," Cerian
pointed out. "We'll lose the chance to deal with him here and now.
It's not ideal, but if we want to kill him, it has to be now and possibly
get what we need from Solaris Industries."
Ruth laced her fingers together. "And I assume you have a plan?"
She cocked her head slightly and gave a small smile. "I think that
removing a hostile psion would be in all our interests. Tell me your
plan."
The Commander looked at the stress ball in his hand and took a
breath. Time to try this again. He looked directly at the ball, focused
on it and willed it to rise. Up . The air became distorted around it, and
with growing excitement he watched it rise a few millimeters. Higher .
It continued rising until it was hovering a few inches above his hand.
He gritted his teeth, trying to maintain the hold a few seconds longer.
Three… two… one . The ball fell snugly into his hand again as the
world came into focus once more. He tucked the ball into his pocket
and began walking forward. That was the best so far, not exactly the
most impressive things he'd done, but he was getting better. Now he
just needed to do it without the world fading around him.
The glass doors to the Labs swished open and he stepped inside,
enjoying the blast of air that accompanied it. A few dozen scientists
were all working on various projects, looking through microscopes
and a few were working on the autopsy of those Muton Elites they'd
recovered. He stood still for a few seconds, looking around for…
There .
She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "Possibly. This
wasn't an uncontaminated sample, so I put a portion through filters
and kept the rest as found. Neither may be an accurate reflection,
but I came to the same conclusions from both."
The Commander nodded. "Which are?"
"Is that natural?" The Commander asked, looking up. "Wouldn't that
damage their bodies?"
Vahlen frowned, clearly not liking his highly unscientific answer. "In a
sense…" she began slowly. "But it's more an extrapolation. If the
Ethereals have the capability to modify even their blood, it's not
much of a stretch to make themselves immune to nearly all kinds of
ailments."
"It's more than we had before," the Commander reminded her. "And
useful information, regardless."
"Hmm, true," she agreed, resting lightly against the white table. "I
would likely find more with more time, but I didn't expect this in the
first place, and other projects have taken priority."
She reached over and flipped the image on the tablet to an image of
what looked like a brain, with different parts mapped out and noted
on. "Their minds are programmed," she explained excitedly. "Well…
to an extent. But there are clear similarities, commands wired directly
into the brain itself. Simple statements that nonetheless kick in
unconsciously."
"Right," she nodded. "In the case of the Muton Elite, there is clearly a
command similar to an IF statement wired into the brain. You know
what that is, right?"
"So the command is essentially, 'If pain level is greater than tolerable
threshold, turn off pain sensors,'" she explained. "A crude and simple
command, but one that works. The brain controls every aspect of the
body, including shutting down organs… or ignoring pain. This has
obvious disadvantages, but these commands might ensure the
subject lives in a dangerous situation."
The Commander immediately saw where she was going with this.
"You've applied it to the Manchurian Program."
"I was already close," Vahlen explained, motioning him to follow. "But
that muton was the final key."
Vahlen reached the door to the Genetics Lab and entered her code.
The door slid open and they walked forward. "How have you applied
it?" The Commander asked.
The second door to the Genetics Lab slid open and revealed more
scientists working on dissections, experiments and operating
complicated equipment. Vahlen led him over to a corner where a
human male was standing stoically, head down and eyes closed,
with an IV attached to his arm.
"I assume he's under control if he's out of the cells?" He asked as he
looked over the seemingly sleeping subject.
"Yes," Vahlen confirmed as she removed the IV. "I wanted to work
with a black slate before moving to incorporating commands in a
conscious subject. I've 'reset' him for lack of a better word. He's
alive, but cannot comprehend anything so he poses no threat. But
that makes him ideal for testing commands." She stepped back.
"Command: Awake."
Instantaneously the man's head jerked up and his eyes opened. It
was odd to watch. The eyes were blank and the face expressionless,
as he didn't respond to anything, not even the two of them. He just
stared sightlessly ahead. "He doesn't see anything?" The
Commander asked slowly, resisting the urge to wave his hand in
front of the man.
"Command: Walk forward," she ordered, and the man began walking
at a slow, but steady pace. He just kept walking straight, directly
towards a table.
"How long do you think it will take for more complex commands?"
The Commander asked.
"The commands themselves are not the difficult part," Vahlen said,
making some notes on her tablet. "It's integrating them with an
existing personality without destroying it that's going to pose the
greatest challenge."
Which was the most crucial aspect. He really just wanted a check on
psions, a means to which they could be harmlessly neutralized if
they went rogue. A way to utilize sleeper agents with no fear of
betrayal. He didn't want empty automatons, dead men walking. But
that was a process, and Vahlen was accomplishing it quicker than he
honestly expected.
The subjects were huddled against the back walls, eyeing the two of
the fearfully, praying that they wouldn't be next. Praying for
something to happen to free them from the hell they were trapped in.
Were they not deserving of this, the Commander might have
wondered if this was going too far. But unfortunately for them, this
was perfectly justified.
The genetic abominations were gone, and the cells contained more
than just humans. At the far end were three cells containing
Sectoids, all at apparently different stages of the virus. They stopped
at the first one. The gray alien was moving, eyeing them blearily with
its golden eyes, but not moving too much.
"This is one week after being infected with the virus," Vahlen
explained. "From what I have observed, the nervous system is
affected the most immediately. The sectoids don't like moving, and
their psionic ability is disrupted as well. I would compare it to a bad
cold in human terms. Bad, but endurable."
The Commander looked into the second cell, which was a night and
day difference. The pale skin on the creature was swollen, engorged
into an almost transparent sheen. The cell was spattered with yellow
liquids, as was the creature itself. Pus and blood was leaking from its
nose and eyes, and the eyes themselves seemed almost shriveled,
like a dried piece of fruit. The alien was still moving, but barely,
shuffling back and forth in a trail of its own blood and fluids.
"The end of week two," Vahlen continued as she eyed the pitiful
alien, cold satisfaction emanating from her. "The body is beginning to
break down into its basic components. The skin and eyes first, as
well as the internal organs. As you can see, the alien is completely
incapacitated, and unable to function properly beyond simple
movement."
The Commander nodded and they moved to the final cell. The thing
inside was almost unrecognizable. Lying in a puddle of its own
blood, fluids and body parts, laid the sectoid. The gray skin it had
was gone, presumably melted off. Most of the muscles were either
dissolved completely or broken and withered. The eyes were simply
sockets, smothered in yellow goop that had once been the eyes. The
skull, ribs and joints he could see to varying degrees. The alien was
motionless, but the Commander could sense it was somewhat alive.
Somehow.
"Week three," Vahlen finished. "The skin, muscles, eyes and organs
are broken down, ultimately killing the sectoid in the most debilitating
and painful way possible. This subject will likely expire later today,
once the brain or heart breaks apart."
It was horrendous, unusual and cruel. Which was exactly what he
wanted. The sectoids might not care about themselves, but the
Ethereals, Vitakara, maybe even the mutons would see what was
happening and wonder if something similar would happen to them.
They would feel terror, fear, horror, and their morale would suffer.
"Do you think this could affect the Hive Commanders as well?" He
asked.
"An idea," the Commander mused. "Two, actually. But that will be for
everyone. You have something else?"
"Right this way," Vahlen led him to another cell on the far end, but
this one had a chryssalid inside. The cell to the right held another
sectoid, and to the left held a human who was pushed as far away
from the alien as possible. The chryssalid itself seemed oddly calm,
occasionally scuttling around, but otherwise didn't seem aggressive.
"Such as?"
"I've removed its ability to reproduce," she answered. "It was too
much of a risk, and I felt it could get out of control too easily. To
compensate for that, I've increased the lifespan significantly, allowing
it to be utilized for up to six months, as well as enhancing it's chitin
plating, strength and eyesight."
"That too," Vahlen agreed. "Although all I've really done is simply
alter the response it has to detecting alien and human pheromones
or scents. If I've done this correctly, it should… ignore humans, only
treat them as vegetation or inanimate objects, whereas aliens will
trigger the instinct to attack and kill."
"I assume this is the test?" The Commander asked, nodding towards
the cells.
"Now for the real test," Vahlen muttered, and began manipulating the
keypad again and the glass wall between the human and beast
opened up. The chryssalid turned around at the sound, and began
slowly making its way over to the human. Not as a hostile, but in
apparent curiosity. It stopped a couple of feet from the terrified
human, looked around, apparently got bored, and began walking the
other way.
"It worked," Vahlen breathed, relief evident in her voice and feelings.
"I did it."
"Yes," she agreed, turning to him. "Now that I know the genetic code
is sound, I can grow more. Once the Manchurian Program becomes
more sophisticated, I could implement commands in them, allowing
our soldiers to order them. But as of right now, I think only psions
could manipulate them successfully."
"A bit," Vahlen answered, glancing back at the chryssalid. "Its mind is
far different. Simpler, but scattered. I'll practice on it some later."
"Well, I'd say you've earned your pay here," the Commander said.
"You've definitely done more than even I thought."
"You trusted me with this," Vahlen reminded him. "I only want to
validate that trust."
No smart quip in response, but she did smile. "I think so too.
Sometime this evening? Your office?"
"I'll admit it, he's a good shot." Iosif said as they watched the two
soldiers take turns shooting a stationary target. While not as in-depth
as the actual shooting range, it was sufficient and not many people
took advantage of that, preferring to use the training area for more
physical training.
Still, Iosif was right. Chan Jin-Taek was an excellent shot. All of the
North Korean soldiers that had recently arrived were some of the
best Patricia had ever seen. She was more familiar with their
capabilities, having access to all their files and had been one of the
few who'd gone through and approved the list together with the
Commander.
Nearly forty soldiers had arrived, bringing their total soldier count to
just over sixty, excluding MEC soldiers. Good enough, and she
suspected that all of them would be needed over the coming days.
All were drawn from the best of the best, all across the world. So far
they were intermingling well for the most part. The training area was
packed with people, making it difficult for her to get a general sense
of the people around, but she wanted to observe to make sure the
first few days didn't get out of hand.
Luckily the North Koreans had tended to keep to themselves,
apparently knowing that they weren't exactly viewed favorably, even
after the alliance was announced. Most of the soldiers seemed to be
keeping them at a distance initially, more guarded than anything
else, because how did you treat a person who'd grown up and
indoctrinated in a country that was so opposite to one most people
lived in. Though the North Koreans did seem happy to talk if
approached, and apparently also willing to have shooting contests as
Lesedi had asked to have a shooting match.
Chan had just missed the center, leaving an opportunity for Lesedi to
get ahead. He stepped back and Lesedi stepped up and raised her
gauss sniper rifle. The Recces operative took a breath, and fired.
Patricia cocked her head, trying to see where she'd hit.
"Not bad," Chan said, narrowing his eyes at the target in the
distance. "Nearly on mine."
"I think we're even," Lesedi responded, setting the rifle to the side,
turning around to walk back to the smaller Korean man. "This is
three for three, unless you want another round?"
Chan gave a humorless smile, one that fit his oddly childish face
well. "No need, you've proved you're skilled. Admittedly surprising."
Chan looked somewhat confused, but apparently didn't feel the need
to comment further, instead shrugging and grabbing his rifle.
"Impressive," a new voice said. "I believe that is the first time Chan
has found someone who can match him."
Pride. If that was one thing that made the North Koreans easy to
identify, it was that. They had a fervent loyalty and national pride that
she'd never seen or felt in any soldiers. Not even the Americans
were as patriotic as them. It wasn't a blind loyalty either, these
soldiers had a true dedication to their country that she found
fascinating.
It made sense to some extent, since she was certain that each
soldier was indoctrinated from birth to believe in the ideals and
superiority of North Korea. But could that really last this fervently
without it being at least somewhat justified?
"He wasn't bad either," Iosif commented, bringing her back to the
current conversation.
"We've been trained for years," she answered, clasping her hands
behind her back. "I would be disappointed if we couldn't hold our
own."
"XCOM is ground zero in this war," Iida stated. "Unlike some others,
the Supreme Leader understand the threat facing us, and will devote
as many resources as possible to ensure we succeed, including
sending his best soldiers."
"How ironic that he's treating this more seriously than most," Iosif
commented thoughtfully. "Nothing against him personally, but I didn't
expect him to be at the forefront of this."
And she wasn't convinced it was completely wrong, and if the Advent
Directive was anything to go by, the Commander clearly believed
that some aspects were worth preserving. What was the saying?
Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all the
others.
The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced the
quote was wrong. It wasn't so much the form of government that
mattered, as much as the execution. Democracies could be worse
than dictatorships and vice-versa, but it largely depended on the
people putting them into place that determined their ultimate success
or failure.
"So why did you join the military?" Patricia asked, ready to change
the subject, and to hopefully shed some light on how North Korean
life was.
"I was chosen when I was fourteen for military service," Iida
answered proudly. "After I was transferred to our military academy, I
made it my goal to become part of the leadership. A few years of
training later and I became an officer, one of the youngest to do so.
Recently I was moved to our anti-alien division after the Supreme
Leader created it, and had been working to improve and command it,
until my transfer to XCOM."
"Really?" Iosif couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. "That
seems awfully young."
"They didn't kill civilians though," Patricia pointed out. "It was military
targets."
"I highly doubt the Supreme Leader would let them give an honest
answer," Iosif said. "That's the equivalent of a criminal being asked if
he's sorry he committed a crime while on trial. You're not going to get
an answer other than the one you want, not because they believe it,
but because they have no choice. "
"But it isn't a lie," Iida insisted. "Our people are content ."
Patricia sensed that this wasn't going to lead anywhere. Iida wasn't
going to change her mind, and she suspected Iosif wasn't either.
"There is no perfect government," she said. "Each has good and
bad, but that can be debated later. Both of you aren't going to
change your minds, so perhaps you should step back before both of
you create a shouting match. I'd prefer to avoid that here."
"Work off your stress some other way," Patricia said, motioning to the
training mat. "Maybe have a quick match."
"I could swear that was a challenge," Iida stated, grabbing his arm
and guiding him towards the mat. "Go on and try me."
Patricia snorted as they walked off. She didn't really have an interest
in seeing how this played out, but figured they'd keep it civil. Well, as
civil as could be. In the meantime, she needed to find Creed. There
was something both of them finally needed to talk about and she
didn't think she was needed here, everyone was getting along and
unless something major changed, it would stay that way.
Leaving the mass of soldiers behind, she strode out the door
towards the barracks.
There was an Ethereal in play. That he knew for certain, and one he
hadn't seen before. Likely the replacement for Sicarius. Which was
good in that it meant that the Ethereals were still treating this more or
less as an experiment, continuously pushing to see what the humans
could do. But the very fact that an Ethereal had showed itself meant
that the endgame was near.
Very near.
"I knew something was off about you," she finally said, breaking the
silence. "I thought you were here to watch XCOM for the Japanese,
maybe even keep an eye out on the Chinese soldiers here." She
took a few steps towards him until she was right before him, looking
down on the seated alien. "I did not expect that you'd not even be
human."
"I'd expect so, given who you are," Shun nodded, clasping her hands
together. "But you don't need to defend yourself. I wanted to thank
you for doing it."
"You might be the reason we'll win," she shrugged. "You could have
just kept playing your role, and I doubt we would have suspected
anything for a while. But you didn't. It took courage to do what you
did, and I can respect you taking a risk even if meant you might die."
"Death wasn't really a concern," Nartha felt obligated to add. "I didn't
think the Commander would kill me. Not until he heard what I had to
say."
"He is predictable that way," Shun agreed, brushing her hair back.
"One of the reasons I'm still here, actually."
She looked forlorn as she said that, resignation in every word. She
was upset, but clearly at peace with her situation. "I'm sorry," he
finally said. "But I'm glad you stayed. XCOM needs people like you."
"Not your fault, I knew what I was doing," Shun said sadly. "But I
don't understand it. My superiors aren't stupid. We're better than
this… infighting . People already look down upon my country, and
this is only going to make us look worse. And the Commander is
going to reduce China's influence to nothing, strip it in retaliation for
what he sees as a betrayal. The worst part is that I don't even blame
him. It doesn't make sense."
She sighed and rubbed her forehead. It seemed she'd wanted to get
that out for a while now, though he wondered why she'd said it to
him. Perhaps because he'd been friendly to her when people were
more suspicious? Was it as simple as that? "How do you know the
Commander will do that?" He asked. "For all his influence, the
Commander is not omnipotent."
"Because of what he's done already," Shun said, looking up. "XCOM
is allied with all of China's enemies. Taiwan. ASEAN. Mongolia.
North Korea if you can believe it. He's sending a clear message to
China and the other countries are taking note."
"That Ethereal attacked New York," she said, shifting in her seat as
she crossed one leg over the other.
He winced. He could imagine. "How bad was it? How many died?"
Nartha blinked, not sure he was hearing correctly. "Wait. You won ?"
"I wasn't on the mission itself," Shun corrected. "But we won in the
sense that we forced the Ethereal to retreat."
A new stirring of optimism appeared inside him. He actually let out a
laugh. "That's excellent! Do you even know how big that is? You
fought an Ethereal and didn't die! "
"Agreed," Shun said, returning the smile. "But maybe these aliens
are more manipulative than we thought."
"I think we're all expecting that," Shun nodded, her voice slipping
back to resigned. "I guess it depends where it happens. Another city,
or even here."
"Yes," she confirmed. "But… well, I'm not sure I would pose a threat
to it. Something like that scares me."
Shun sighed. "It's not just that. Psionics in general unnerve me. No
one says anything, and everyone seems to be ok with it just because
Patricia is in charge. But it's unnatural. I don't like the idea of me
being controlled and never knowing it."
Nartha sighed. "Trust me, I know that feeling. On the bright side,
being around Patricia isn't nearly as intense as an Ethereal."
"You probably would," she nodded, the paused for a few seconds
before continuing. "What's it like, if you don't mind me asking?"
She shuddered. "I'm not sure how you could be alright with that. It's
the deepest violation someone can perform on another. The mind
should be a sanctuary that can't be accessed just on a whim."
"Indoctrination," Shun said. "I guess that makes sense. I really hope
that the Commander understands how dangerous these powers
are."
"I'm sure he does," Nartha told her slowly. "But I don't think he views
them in that way. Everything is a tool to him, which can be used for
good or bad. Used to his advantage or detriment. He doesn't use
tools that aren't reliable, so I suspect he has a way to keep psions in
check."
"No reason you would," she said with a nod. Both of them sat in
silence for a few minutes, Shun looking at him intently. "So what
about you?" She finally said, lacing her slim fingers together. "You
seem very… calm. Content, almost."
Nartha shrugged and leaned against the cold stone wall. "I'm still
alive, which I'm grateful for. I can't really do anything until the
Commander decides what to do with me. All I can do is think, pace
and theorize. It is boring, to be perfectly honest."
"A terrible fate," she teased wryly. "Well, I can sympathize and if
you'd be alright with it, I'd like to ask some questions."
"You, your species," she said, as if it was obvious. "I wasn't kidding
when we had those retrospectively awkward conversations. I'm
curious about the aliens. I want to know more, if you're willing to
talk."
He straightened up and looked at her with new interest. Another
unexpected development… and not an unpleasant one. She seemed
genuinely curious, and that was admittedly surprising to him. Vahlen
had asked him a number of questions about his species, but he'd
gotten the impression that she was doing it to learn better ways
about how to kill, experiment and exploit them. Zhang and the
Commander had pressed him on the operations of the Zararch for
the same reason. No one had expressed an interest out of pure
curiosity.
"I guess some basics," she said, biting her lip. "I assume you
normally don't look that way?"
"Yes," she nodded. "It's hard to believe that you and that are
related."
"So what are the others?" She said, indicating for him to continue.
"I suppose the Dath'Haram are next," Nartha continued, figuring out
in what order he was going to explain this. "Jungle dwellers,
primarily. Shades of green skin, extremely flexible with prehensile
hands and feet. There aren't numerous and are among the more
reclusive of the races, but they're experts at engineering, biotech
and camouflage. The Zararch, the Vitakara intelligence equivalent,
usually uses them as assassins or spies."
"Hmm," Shun scratched her chin. "Are any being used on Earth?"
"Certainly," Nartha said. "I don't know for sure, but I believe that the
majority of Vitakara that you've designated as "Gen-1 Thin men" are
actually from this race. The abilities displayed match up with their
innate skills. You've seen some of them jump extraordinary heights,
yes? Snap broken limbs back together? Dodge lasers and bullets
with unnatural ease? Then that was likely a modified Dath'Haram. It
would also explain why they were so disproportionate. Dath'Haram
are naturally thin, and have reptilian eyes and normally asymmetrical
faces. Not ideal for spies, but the Ethereals and Shapers wanted to
experiment, I suppose."
"Then there are the Cobrarian," Nartha said slowly, wondering how
she'd take this. "They are… well, snakes with arms. The
resemblance is oddly uncanny in some ways. Imagine a snake with
arms and you'll have a good idea of what a Cobrarian looks like."
"I think I understand," Shun said slowly. "But why not standardize
things? It just seems unnecessarily difficult."
"Because for the most part, they don't need to be," Nartha explained.
"We're not a violent species by nature, and usually work together
well. Much of the differences are superficial, but there are admittedly
exceptions. But not enough to warrant a standardization."
"It always will be," Nartha agreed. "But as I was saying, the reason
the Cobrarian are controversial is due to… well, how they treat the
respective genders."
Shun furrowed her eyebrows. "I didn't realize that was a thing. We
still deal with it here, to an extent, but I'd think that a species as
advanced as yours would have moved past that."
"That is true, for the most part," Nartha admitted. "But it's more
complicated. Nine out of ten Cobrarian born are female, which as
you can imagine, leads to the majority of the species being one
gender. As a result the Cobrarian local government is run exclusively
by a female hierarchy."
"Hmm," Shun mused. "If males are that rare, I'd almost think they'd
have at least some kind of influence."
"Oh, they do," Nartha stated, somewhat amused. "Which is why they
don't have any official power. The hierarchy meant well, thinking that
they shouldn't have influence over legislation because they might
ultimately assume control because of how essential they are to
breeding. But it's led to the males of the species ultimately feeling
marginalized and glorified breeding machines."
Shun snorted. "Perhaps I'll ask more about that later, but keep going
with the races. This is fascinating."
"How could they integrate anywhere else then?" Shun asked. "That
seems like a big liability."
"How?"
"Agreed," Nartha said. "And one that'll have to be dealt with. Moving
on, the Sar'Manda are perhaps the most numerous and reclusive of
the races. They dwell in underwater cities that expand throughout all
the oceans. They control an underwater empire as large as what the
rest of the races control on land. They're perhaps as you'd expect,
webbed hands and feet, gills, fins, bulbous eyes, all on a vaguely
humanoid figure."
"The Vitakarian," Nartha finished. "I suppose you can guess from the
name, but they were the ones to really unite the races under one
banner, in a sense. They were the first to determine we were all one
species, and were more advanced than the others, which led to them
establishing the name our species, and since they believed they
were at first the only kind, gave themselves the name Vitakarian."
"Is there are reason they were more advanced?" Shun asked.
"Yes," Nartha said with a nod. "Unlike the other races, the Vitakarian
were nomads. They went where the weather was favorable, and
never really settled down, leading to them not developing an affinity
to any environment. Since they didn't have to deal with extreme
environments, this allowed them to focus on advancing themselves.
We're also referred to as the 'template' race because we're the most
genetically malleable of any of the races."
"I am," he smiled. "Our form isn't all that dissimilar to humans. With
the exception that our skin has no color initially, and it either lightens
or darkens depending on exposure to sunlight. Our eyes are a solid
color, which changes depending on the oxygen level and brightness.
We also don't naturally have hair, but many Vitakarian change that
with genetic modification."
"Huh," she looked at him, almost in a new light. "So this isn't really
that much of a change?"
"I see," Shun was silent for a few minutes and stood. "Thanks,
Soran. This… well, it's a lot to think about."
"Long and complicated," she mused. "Well, I might have to ask about
that later, provided you're willing to have a few more questioning
sessions?"
"True," she agreed with a smile. "I'll see you later, Nartha."
"You too," he said, giving her the Commander's salute. "Be safe."
"I'll do my best," she assured him. "I don't want to end up in the med
bay again."
She walked to the door and exited, leaving him alone. But now he
did have something to look forward to in the future before his
ultimate fate was decided. That had been surprisingly nice, and had
reminded him how much he missed his planet and people. It was
good to talk about it with someone.
"For the moment," she said, looking up at him. Funny it was times
like this when she really saw how much bigger than her he was. It
was an intimidating height, but one she'd never personally felt
affected by. Gah, a mental tangent she didn't need now. "As long as
the North Koreans don't say anything too offensive we should be
fine."
"I saw a couple of them training," Creed nodded. "I was impressed to
say the least. They might even be as good as me."
She chuckled at that and leaned back against one of the bunks.
"That's really high praise, coming from you. You who are so much
more skilled than everyone else."
"Which is true for the most part," Creed pointed out with a raised
eyebrow. "But that doesn't mean I won't accept when someone is
just as good."
"I really want to see one of them spar with you," Patricia said with a
smile. "That's be a good test."
Creed snorted. "I… don't think so. Not to disparage the likely skilled
Koreans, but if Carmelita couldn't beat me, I'm not sure they'd have a
chance."
Patricia cocked her head. "Uh-huh, sure. That's the reason, and not
because you're worried you'd lose."
Creed groaned. "I do hate how easy you manage to manipulate me."
"That is your own fault," she said, crossing her arms, lips twitching in
amusement. "You walked right into that."
With the amount of new soldiers here, she knew it was only a matter
of time before something was started about her. The secret
mastermind manipulating things for her own ends, using her powers
to unwittingly turn them into puppets. Hopefully not, but the scary
thing was that that invented conspiracy theory was possible. She
was the most powerful person here, and that was slightly terrifying.
"Hey, you ok?" She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked into his
concerned face. He actually felt bad now, thinking he'd somehow
upset her. Well, slightly, but it wasn't because of him.
"I'm alright," she sighed. "Just spaced out briefly." She paused,
deciding to just finally get this started. "Are you comfortable around
me?"
"It doesn't bother you?" She pressed, needing to know. "I can read
your mind . Affect you and you'd never know it. That doesn't concern
you at all?"
"Is that what's bothering you?" He asked, taking a step toward her.
"Maybe if it was someone else, but you? No, I trust you. You've
actually been in my mind and even then you didn't intentionally go
into it to read my mind, you did it to save me. Anyone with that much
restraint is fully trustworthy in my eyes."
"Maybe not intentionally," she sighed. "But I'd be lying if I didn't see
some things that raised questions."
"Shut up," she growled, then sighed. "Right, so when I was in that
memory, I talked to you," she held up a hand to cut off his question.
"No, you didn't know who I was, your mind was still stuck in the
memory, in the past. I had to convince you to complete the memory
as it was originally, not taking revenge and killing her."
"As much as I'm glad I'm that reasonable in my dreams, I'm
somewhat surprised," Creed said. "How did you convince me you
were… real? I guess."
She took a second to try to drone out her furiously beating heart. "It
wasn't as hard as you think. You didn't know my name, but you
trusted me implicitly. Couldn't say why of course, but you knew me
somehow. You actually thought I was someone else because of what
you felt."
That shut him up, and his current emotional state was thrown into
turmoil, and just from reading his suddenly blank face and slightly
reddening skin, she could guess it likely amounted to something like
" Fuck."
He coughed. "Uh-"
She held up a hand, cutting him off. Now he felt nervous, very
nervous, and clearly afraid he'd crossed some kind of line. "Stop
feeling nervous, it just… surprised me, that's all. I didn't know you felt
that way about me," she suddenly frowned, and flushed, realizing
she might have jumped to conclusions way too fast. "Provided
that…. is how you feel." She finished quickly.
He actually physically thought about that. "Well, I'm not sure, I mean-
"
She started laughing, cutting him off. "Stop overthinking this," she
chided. "Both of us are, honestly. I didn't think it would happen to me,
but here we are."
"Well, uh," Creed said slowly. "You still haven't said if you-"
He was cut off as she grabbed him by his shirt and pushed him into
the side of the bunk. Before he could say anything she leaned up
and kissed him. It was long and lingering, as perfect as she could
have possibly wanted. She broke contact and looked up into his
stunned face, her body pressed into his.
"You have restraint and respect," Patricia said, placing a hand on his
chest. "I admire that, really. More than you know. But no need to hide
now." She leaned up for another kiss and felt alarm run through him
mixed with desire.
"Don't worry," she told him as she maneuvered him onto the bed with
ease, resting on top of him as she quickly located all the minds
around the immediate vicinity and sent a simple command: Sleep .
She looked around to be sure and noted happily that the few people
here were slumped over in a deep sleep. That problem taken care
of, she returned her attention to the one man who warranted it.
Without wasting any more time, she leaned down to kiss him once
more, intending to make this last as long as possible.
The Commander looked at the ground, his arms resting on his knees
with his hands clasped together. He wondered if she'd figured it out
on her own, or at least theorized who he was. Or maybe she didn't
care. She might not even care about who he really was, but she
needed to know, regardless.
Not just her. The time for secrecy was over. The Internal Council also
needed to know. They'd known him long enough, worked with him to
where they could reach their own conclusions free of the
propaganda that surrounded him. While he didn't think that Vahlen
would be particularly bothered… he didn't know about the rest. Shen
and Van Doorn… he didn't know how they would react.
He shook his head. But regardless of how that went, Vahlen would
know first. As well as what he'd done, Farida in particular. That, he
wasn't sure how she would handle. Vahlen wasn't the type to get
simply infatuated. She was most likely smarter than him, and knew
just from XCOM what he was capable of. He hadn't hid who he was,
which was a ruthless, pragmatic man who did whatever it took to
achieve victory.
But he'd eventually realized that he'd read Vahlen wrong. It wasn't
that she wasn't interested in a relationship, she just hadn't found
anyone who was compatible with her. He snorted. Compatible . A
cold mechanical word, and yet that was probably exactly how Vahlen
thought. It was just how she was, thinking in analytical and technical
terms. It was of the traits he liked about her.
The door to his office hissed open and Vahlen walked through, still
dressed in her typical scientist attire and lab coat which indicated to
him that she'd likely just come from the lab. She felt calm, controlled,
and he wondered how he felt to her in comparison. He stood as the
door closed behind her. "Vahlen, glad you came."
She was clearly amused at that. "Did you really expect otherwise?"
She asked, walking over to him and stopping at a much closer
proximity than was normal.
Both of them sat down, angled towards each other. Vahlen didn't
waste any time making her opinion clear. "Commander, under other
circumstances I might find observing how much you're delaying this
interesting," she reached over and rested one of her hands on his
own. "But I know why we're both here, and I'm not sure what you're
waiting for."
Well, she had a point. No point dragging this out any more than was
warranted. "Right. We both like each other, I think can agree on
that."
She was definitely satisfied at that, but only raised an eyebrow. "I'm
surprised it took you that long to figure it out."
The Commander cocked his head at her. "I'm not that dense. I'd
determined as much a while ago, but deliberately held back for…
well, several reasons."
"Right," he let out a sigh. "So, first things first. If… this is ever going
to go anywhere, you need to know some things about me." At her
encouraging nod, he continued. "I told you that I was part of the
Commander's team, a high-ranking one who defected. That's a lie."
He paused, and looked directly at her as he revealed the truth. "I am
the Commander. The UN faked my death, presumably so they could
use me again one day. For XCOM, it turns out."
She blinked, realization emanating from her, some faint surprise, but
not nearly as much as he had expected. She was silent for a few
moments, looking blankly off to the side before speaking. "I'd
wondered if that was the case. Even at the beginning, something
never really added up. You knew so much about what had
happened, details that even his- your advisors shouldn't have. Your
contingencies, tactics… I'd thought you'd just taken inspiration,
perhaps had some epiphany about how the Commander was
right…" she trailed off, looking back at him, her eyes piercing his.
"But the actual explanation is much simpler, apparently. You were so
similar to the Commander because you are him."
He nodded. "I would have preferred not to lie, but it was necessary,
at least in the beginning."
"Yes, I suppose so," Vahlen muttered quietly, looking down. "It would
have been difficult to rally XCOM behind you, knowing who you
were."
"A good plan," Vahlen admitted. "Create an alter-ego, one who could
get away with using unheard of tactics with no one the wiser.
Although now that I'm thinking about it… you never really hid who
you were. Not really. Your past you lied about, but the personality of
the Commander was never something you bothered to change."
"A pragmatic, ruthless and determined man," she said, looking back
up at him. "But also an intelligent, rational and considerate one."
The corners of her lips turned up. "Does this change anything about
the man I've known the past year? Are you suddenly different now?"
He shook his head. Vahlen was right. He had never really moderated
his true opinions towards how he handled XCOM or the aliens.
Maybe a bit at the beginning… but never completely, and definitely
not now. "I don't think you're someone who is a monster or deserves
to be hated," Vahlen continued quietly. "You think like me, you're
really the only one who's ever understood what I've tried to do my
entire life which is to help. I see a problem and a feel obligated to do
whatever I can to solve it, to fix it. I've done dozens of horrible things
in my life, I'm not blind to that, but I could always rationalize it; justify
it in ways that let me sleep at night."
She gave his hand a squeeze. "Not alone," she repeated, then both
of them lapsed into silence for a few moments. "Are you going to tell
the rest?"
Vahlen shifted on the couch. "Is that what you wanted to say?
Nothing has changed about how I feel about you if that's what you're
wondering."
"No, not that," he sighed, standing up. "Do you want the long or short
version?"
"Yes, and she helped me get out before the Iranians found me," he
confirmed, remembering the event. "But that unfortunately made her
a liability, at least at first. We parted ways and I was debating how
best to deal with her since she knew I was an American agent when
she somehow found me when wandering through Tehran."
"I assume you grew close during that time," Vahlen commented.
He chuckled some. "Yes. Very. Not what I was expecting but it…
well, it happened quickly, but it didn't feel rushed or wrong. She was
intelligent, rational and funny."
"It started and I was given my orders," the Commander nodded. "I
then built my team, Farida among them. She was fully on board at
first, willing to strike back against the terrorists."
"But didn't stay that way for long," Vahlen finished, seeing where this
was going.
"Didn't she know you'd do that?" Vahlen asked slowly. "Or did you
just… start it during the War on Terror?"
"She knew what my plans were," the Commander said quietly. "I
never lied. But on the operations we were on before… the scale
wasn't as large. The problems easier. The people not so innocent.
She knew intrinsically what I was capable of… but now I don't think
she believe I would go through with it. But when I did, well it changed
her."
He sighed. "I tried to get through to her, make her understand why I
was doing it. For a while I thought I was working, even if she was
becoming more reclusive; closed off even to me."
"When I met her, yes," the Commander said. "But not a devout one,
since she renounced her faith when she came to America. But on
some level I think she never forgot. The Caliphate's teachings did
call to her in some way, which she admitted multiple times."
He gave her a sad smile. "I almost wish that had happened. An
attack happened, yes, but it was I that almost died. It was an
ambush, one that was so coordinated that they had to have known
everything about it. I barely had my team make it out alive, and at
first shrugged it off as a botched attack."
"I treated her the same as an enemy asset," he answered quietly. "I
interrogated, tortured and extracted everything she knew about her
contacts and what she'd revealed to them. Once that was done I
executed her and left the body in the desert."
"No," he shook his head. "I didn't. It didn't matter, not anymore, and
there was no excuse that could justify it. Perhaps it was a penance
for her, perhaps she thought I went too far and wanted to stop me,
perhaps she wanted to scare me into calling off the op so I wouldn't
get killed. I'll never know, and neither do I want to. But I remember
her now as another victim of the War on Terror. One I wasn't able to
save."
"I'm so sorry," Vahlen said, standing up to face him. "I… had no idea.
Not about that."
Vahlen took his hands in her own. "And I managed to change your
mind?"
"You're under no illusions about who I am," the Commander said
gently. "The good and bad. When you kept persisting, even after
what I've ordered, that did make me wonder. And the more I thought
about it… well, here we are. But I don't want secrets, not anymore. If
we're going to do this, you had to know everything about me.
Especially the things I'd prefer to forget."
"Thank you," Vahlen told him, sincerity emanating out of her. "For
trusting me enough to share this. I know it's not easy for you. But
you did and that only reaffirms what I already know. You're someone
who cares, about XCOM, humanity, me. You're more concerned
about what would make me comfortable than what you'd want. You
didn't have to tell me this, but you did so I'd know, and I don't think
you can be nobler than that when it comes to this."
His heart was definitely beating much faster now. There would be no
better time. Both of them wanted this, and if what he'd said hadn't
deterred her, than there was no reason to hold back anymore. He
gently took her chin with his right hand, leaned down and kissed her
waiting lips.
It was a sensation he wished could last forever, but time sadly didn't
stop and the kiss ended too quickly. Though he didn't delay long in
giving her another one while sweeping her into his arms and carrying
her to his room.
A/N: BenRG, if you're still reading this, know that I didn't ignore your
suggestion on a possible upgrade for the laser weaponry. Just took a
little while to implement it correctly, sorry.
Also, I don't expect to write another chapter this long. Though I have
been wrong before.
-Xabiar
Agent Recall: Ruth Shira
Agent Recall: Ruth Shira
"Oh, really?" He asked, resting his hand over the one she had laid
relaxed on the bed, slipping his fingers between hers. "How long do
you normally sleep?"
"I won't argue that it's much better than before," he chuckled, and
both of them laid there for a few minutes in silence, just enjoying
each other's presence. But unfortunately they couldn't stay that way
forever. "There's a lot to do."
She sighed into his chest. "Agreed. I've got quite a few tests to run. I
have some new genetic modification ideas to begin work on, as well
as continue refining the Manchurian Project."
"Mhmm, yes, he's told me about that," Vahlen said. "I'll be sure to
help him as much as possible. What are you planning for this fine
day?"
Vahlen lifted herself off his shoulder and moved around until she was
somewhat propped up with her arm, looking at him. "So soon? I
thought you'd… well, allow some more time. I didn't realize you
wanted it done this fast."
He also straightened up, resting his back on the wall and mass of
pillows. "There's no point delaying. The longer it goes on, the worse
the fallout will be. Especially if they learn you knew well before."
She pursed her lips at that, glancing down at the sheets. "Ah. True, I
hadn't considered that," her gaze returned to his. "Do you think they
know?"
"About us?" He raised an eyebrow. "I doubt it will take them long to
figure it out. Bradford and Van Doorn especially. I don't plan on
advertising that much, in case you were wondering."
"You'll get no argument from me," Vahlen agreed. "I'd prefer not to
have rumors flying around."
The Commander chuckled. "That ship sailed long ago. I'm certain
the soldiers suspect, especially if Bradford was able to figure it out."
"A question that has been asked for decades," the Commander said,
his lips curling up. "And I still don't know the answer."
"I highly doubt it," the Commander dismissed easily. "One, this isn't a
traditional military, and two, I really don't care if they approve or not.
If they have some well-reasoned argument against it, I'll listen, but I
doubt that they can form a cohesive argument against us other than
'chain of command abuse.'"
Vahlen snorted at that. "Trust me, if I'd not been interested, you
would know it."
"That it could," he said, then swung his legs over the side, resting his
feet on the ground. "Well, I think we've spent enough time here. We
do have a world to protect, after all."
Something seemed off about all of this. Which way was she
supposed to go? It should have disturbed her that she couldn't sense
anyone, but she felt strangely… calm. She wasn't in danger, but she
did have somewhere to be. Someone to meet.
She glanced down at the helmet she hadn't realized she was holding
and cautiously put it on, it hissing and clicking into place as it sealed
itself to the armor. She reached back and wasn't surprised to find her
Autorifle attached to the back of her armor.
Right?
She scowled, raising her weapon and walking into the foreboding
corridor.
The silence was louder than should be possible. There was nothing
here. No sound. No life. Nothing. Just endless corridors and steel
walls. She was missing something, but for the life of her she couldn't
figure out what it was. The corridor kept twisting and turning at sharp
angles, making impossible paths that somehow didn't collide with
each other.
But something soon changed. There was light at the end. Clarity.
Something that had answers.
As she kept walking she couldn't help but notice that the steel walls
were fading into glass, revealing the black expanse of space. Utter
blackness with sprinkled with the faint twinkling of stars. At the end
was a glass box, a room facing the one patch of color in the void.
Earth.
The room wasn't empty either. A figure stood observing the blue and
green planet. A man standing straight with his hands clasped behind
his back. Patricia slowed to a stop as she saw that. He looked
familiar, yet there was only one person who came to mind.
She sucked in her breath as everything clicked into place. She was
stuck in her consciousness.
"Are you really going to shoot me?" The man asked, mimicking his
voice perfectly. Exactly as she remembered, with buzzed graying
hair and a neatly trimmed beard to match. His crystalline eyes
commanded the same respect and attention they had when she'd
been a little girl, even as she'd learned not to be intimidate by them
so much as she'd gotten older.
She let a burst of gauss fire loose from her autorifle which sped
toward the body and impacted with dull thuds and tears. The
doppelganger didn't react at all to the bullets striking his body, his
expression unchanging as blood started leaking down his shirt,
staining it red.
She paused after seeing it have no effect and he smiled, while
shaking his head. "Come now, psion. You knew that wouldn't work."
The rifle flew from her hands and came to rest above a bloodstained
palm, hovering as it began to be telekinetically disassembled. "You
know as well as I that physical weapons have little power. Not to
being like us. We are beyond these toys, pieces of machinery that
have purpose other than to destroy."
The being cocked his head at her. "You are powerful, psion. Very
much so, yet you are still untrained. Still a novice at best. But you
have talent, skill and ambition. A useful combination, and combined
with your intelligence, that has warranted my interest."
He turned around and released his hold on her. She landed upright,
taking a second to right herself as she eyed the imposter warily.
"What are you? A Hive Commander? An Ethereal? Something else?"
So an Ethereal for sure. But could this be one they knew? That she
knew? Was this the one from New York? The one the Commander
called Aegis? She honestly didn't know what would warrant one of
the Ethereals to go out of their way to talk to her. The Commander
made sense, but her? True, she was psionic, but could it really be as
simple as that?
She began circling him, her eyes never leaving him. "Then who are
you?"
"The one who you have been waging a war against since the
beginning," he answered, his voice boring its way into her mind,
forcing every word deep into her mind. "Similar to your Commander,
I have no name that would matter. The words describing me you
would not understand, but know that I am the Imperator, Commander
of my Ethereal Collective."
Patricia went cold as she heard that. They'd speculated on who the
ultimate leader of the Ethereals was, but that was essentially an
impossible task since they knew so little about them to begin with.
But if he was telling the truth. Fuck. She was screwed. No way
around it. Apparently resisting the Ethereal in New York had
warranted their Commander dealing with her.
"The Ravaged One had no reason to allow you to live," the Imperator
stated flatly. "He had no directive or orders to deal with you. Yet you
survived. You did not triumph, but you resisted. You survived and
that has earned my attention."
"I do my best," she said, eyeing the alien cautiously, unsure what he
would do. She had the feeling that if he wanted it, he could kill her or
drive her insane. "Is it really that uncommon? Surely you've seen
other species wield the same powers I do."
"Incorrect," he disputed flatly. "Few species can wield the Gift, not
pure as you or I do. We have seen species advance, and in doing
so, corrupt themselves, turning their powers into a shadow of what
they could be. For humanity to not only be able to wield the Gift, but
remain pure in doing so? That is rare. "
"I assume the Sectoids fall into this category?" Patricia asked.
"They can wield the Gift in its purest form, yes," the Imperator
confirmed, turning to look out at Earth. "But they are a small-minded
species. Incapable of using it with any form of creativity. To them it is
a convenient tool, not a power with limitless possibilities." He shook
his head. "But I am getting ahead of myself."
Patricia walked slowly up beside him, and they looked out over Earth
together. "Your world is pleasant," the Imperator said. "I was not
surprised to find life here. Lush worlds like this are fewer than you
might think, though sentient life like humanity is few and far
between."
"I did want to talk," he nodded. "I know what you want, but go
ahead."
"Why are you doing this?" She asked, motioning towards Earth. "You
invade our planet, but don't send enough to win? You're far more
advanced than us, yet you still hold back? Why do you need to fight
us?"
"We are not at war," the Imperator stated, each word containing the
gravity of hammer blows. "Were we at war your world would be
turned to cinders. Your people would be thralls to be used or
executed. You do not pose enough of a threat for us to go to war,
psion. But you are asking the right questions."
He turned fully towards her. "You wonder why I hold my armies back.
Why I fight at all in the first place. The answer is simple. Your
species has potential, and I want to know how much. So I push, test
the limits of what you are capable of. Where you deserve to be under
us."
"In a sense," he confirmed. "And your species has done better than I
anticipated. You are proof of that. There is only one more test to
pass and then it will be over."
"I have studied the Commander," the Imperator said wistfully. "An
intriguing and intelligent character for such a young species. But the
difference between the two of you is that he is a constant, a force
that will never change. You, on the other hand, are a variable. A
woman who can be reasoned with, someone who won't be used or
follow blindly."
Patricia snorted. "If you're trying to insinuate that I'll be helping you, I
can give you an answer now."
"I know what your answer is now," he said, the corners of his lips
extending into an unnatural, knowing smile. "But I shall see in the
coming months. Because I know what you want, and that is answers
. It will be interesting to see what you do if those answers aren't what
you expect."
He inclined his head. "As you wish, psion. I believe we will meet
again."
Moment of truth.
Well, there was never going to be a good time to get this over with,
but he still felt apprehensive about the entire ordeal. It was
necessary, but it wasn't something he was currently enjoying. Not
that he really should. The interesting him for him personally was that
he couldn't really predict the fallout with any certainty.
He doubted Zhang would care much, as they had similar thought
patterns and ideologies on certain things. Patricia either, since she'd
begun developing a more pragmatic mindset. Bradford and Jackson
he couldn't predict, either they'd accept it, or… not. And the not was
the question, because in all honesty, what could they do? Threaten
him? Yell? Leave? Possible, which was why he was anticipating
worst-case scenarios.
Van Doorn and Shen would probably have problems with the
revelation, although again he didn't know to what extent they'd
express their feelings. They weren't unreasonable people, but then
again, emotion tended to cloud judgement.
All of them now stood around the holotable. Vahlen and Bradford at
his sides, Van Doorn and Patricia at the left and right sides,
respectively, and Jackson, Shen, Zhang and Patricia on the other
side. They might need to get a larger holotable since it was getting a
bit crowded.
He swept his gaze around the table, friends and colleagues he easily
trusted with his life, as they likely had with theirs. No more delaying,
time to do this. "Thank you for coming on short notice," he began. "I
don't want to take up too much time, so I'll make this as quick as
possible."
"Commander?"
"I won't take long either," she promised, straightening up. "I was
contacted by an Ethereal last night."
Every head in the room swung to her. His irritation vanished as she
dropped that bombshell. That was a development he hadn't
expected, and certainly not now. "What happened?" He demanded.
"I don't know what he looks like," she began, pursing her lips. "He
took the form of my father. But he wanted to talk, so he says."
"It wasn't Aegis," Patricia clarified. "He called himself the Imperator,
Commander of the Ethereal forces."
"So what did he tell you?" Vahlen asked, her tablet at the ready to
record whatever was said.
"He confirmed that this invasion is nothing but a test," Patricia said
grimly. "The ultimate purpose of which I'm not sure, but that puts to
rest why the Ethereals haven't conquered us completely."
"Unfortunately as we suspected," the Commander nodded. "There
really wasn't another good explanation. Although that means that
we've likely not even gotten a full glimpse of what the Ethereals are
capable of."
"But they can't keep testing forever," Shen noted slowly. "Do they
simply want a war of attrition? To see how many we can kill before
succumbing? What could they possibly have left to test that we have
not faced before."
"The Imperator said that we'd done better than expected," Patricia
added. "And that there was only 'One final test' which he refused to
specify."
"It makes sense," Vahlen finally said after a few seconds. "We know
that the Ethereals have each species in a certain hierarchy of sorts,
with the Sectoids and Vitakara near the top and the Mutons at the
bottom. How better to test how valuable we are than pitting us
against their best?"
"One thing doesn't make sense in all of this," Van Doorn interjected,
his brow furrowed as he stared down into the blank holotable. "Why
specifically go to war with our species? They didn't with the Vitakara,
and presumably the Sectoids either. The Mutons, yes, but from what
Nartha described, they were far more primitive than us. We're
capable of diplomacy, so why not even attempt it in the first place?"
"It might fail?" The Commander shrugged. "I cannot see our species
willingly submitting ourselves under another power, whereas it was
clearly the case with the Vitakara and Sectoids."
"Yes, it might," Van Doorn nodded. "But I'd at least understand them
going to war if that happened. But as it stands I don't know why our
species is singled out among the others."
"The answer is simple," Zhang interjected flatly, his tone neutral but
firm. "They want soldiers. Warriors. They are not interested in our
diplomatic talents or negotiations. They don't plan for peace. They
are planning to go to war, either with the galaxy or with these others
who they supposedly fear. How else are they supposed to determine
if we have what it takes unless they put our species through a war
against a technologically and logistically superior enemy? Do you
think they care how many of their own die if in return they learn that
we have the potential to defeat them?"
She inclined her head towards him. "That's all, go ahead with what
you were planning, Commander."
Unlikely.
"I'm going to guess you're not fucking making this up," Jackson said,
in between breaths. "Noo… of course not. God…"
" How ?" Patricia and Bradford asked at almost the same time.
"I… can't believe it," Van Doorn muttered, staring down in disbelief.
"Even after what you did, they still let you live. They lied to
everyone…"
"Everything makes sense now," Shen said hollowly, his voice aged
and devoid of all emotion. "The contingencies, the experiments, your
tactics, so many boundaries crossed and it never occurred to me to
wonder if the reason that seemed so obvious was ever correct.
Everything about you reminded me of the War on Terror, and I
thought it was because you had worked with him. But no, it was
because it was you."
"And the Council…" Bradford said in wonder. "That was why they
were so divided. They weren't all on board putting you in charge,
were they?"
"And do you regret any of what you did?" Van Doorn demanded. "Do
you feel any remorse for the thousands you've killed?"
The Commander looked the General in the eye. "I regret that it came
to a war. I regret that the Caliphate rose into a power capable of
threatening the world. I am sorry that so many had to die, and were
there a way to change it, I would have found it. But no, General. I do
not regret anything I did during the War on Terror. I performed my
duty, which is protect the world, no matter the cost."
"No, because I never hid that," the Commander reminded him. "I've
given each of you the authority to question my plans, which you've
taken up on occasion, but each order you're no doubt thinking about
now, that was done with us together . I may have written it and
defended it, but the reason that these are in place is because we all
agreed they are necessary ."
"How far we have fallen," Shen said softly. "What kind of saviors are
we? Torture. Human experimentation. Plotting the dismantling of
nations. Killing innocent people. How can we really be humanity's
best chance?"
The air of shock and disbelief was still strong, but all of them visibly
composed themselves and walked slowly out of the room, save
Vahlen. Despite the strong emotions, he could tell that them
completely abandoning XCOM was low. All of them knew what was
at stake and how it was bigger than any one person. He suspected
Van Doorn was more upset that he hadn't noticed anything, than
about the details of his past. He'd known more of the Commander
than anyone else, especially during the war on terror, so this
revelation was likely to affect him a little more than the rest. With the
possible exception of Shen, of course.
Guess he would see later. As the door slid shut behind them, he let
out a sigh. "And there it is."
"I think most of them are still in shock," he muttered. "I guess it's not
every day you find out that your boss is actually the most infamous
war criminal in the last few decades."
"Or friend," Vahlen murmured.
She pulled away, and lifted a hand to straighten some unruly hairs.
"Let's get to work. I suspect we'll have to pick up some slack today."
"Copy that," he confirmed, looking over the street through his scope.
Taking the Chronicler out near his home was ultimately the best
location for the purposes of minimizing collateral damage. Not that
he was going to miss, but he didn't exactly want pandemonium to
break out, though that was likely going to happen to some extent.
Overall, his vantage point was excellent, atop one of the apartments
which gave him a clear view of every entrance into the Chroniclers
apartment. There were a few people milling around the run-down
streets. Several kids were playing near a rusty basketball hoop,
doing their best not to let the ball run away from them and add
another dent to the banged-up vehicles around the vicinity.
" Right," she sighed. "Just wanted to make sure it was good. I don't
like how blind we are in this."
" If you ask me, we're already going overboard," their second
backup, agent Kalon-something interjected from his place under a
tree. "Psions are not invincible, especially human ones."
That man was the best actor Cerian had ever seen. Switching
between accents and speech patterns within seconds, and changing
his entire body into something else was incredible to see. Right now
he looked the perfect homeless and depraved victim, the kind
parents kept their children away from. No one would ever suspect he
was actually an assassin.
Mary had only picked up the Chronicler's location a few hours ago,
which was fortunate because he'd worried that they wouldn't have
any prior warning. But Mary was good, and had likely gotten help
from XCOM's own computer expert.
" Already done," Mary said. "One minute, stand by. Yellow taxi,
license plate 7GT-12M."
He took a breath and overlooked the area once more. Knocking out
cellular reception was necessary in order for them to make their
escape without suspicion. Someone would doubtless try and call 911
and he'd prefer to have vacated the scene long before then. Or worst
case, it would prevent more people from getting killed if it turned into
a shooting match.
He took another look through his scope and noted in dismay that the
bullet was hovering a few inches from the Chronicler's face, he lifted
a hand and plucked the bullet out of the air and pocketed it with one
smooth motion. Then he looked right into the scope and smiled.
Ruth pulled out her pistol and began approaching, and the
Chronicler pulled a small pistol from his jacket, raised it to the right
and fired at the disguised Kalonymous with no warning whatsoever.
He didn't have time to react, the bullets striking his head and throat
and he slumped to the ground, a stunned expression plastered on
his face.
Everyone in the vicinity ran away as gunshots rang out. Cerian fired
several more shots, and Ruth began firing with her own weapon.
None his sniper rounds hit, as he simply raised a hand to freeze the
bullets in mid-air. Ruth fared no better, and he directed his attention
to her, raising a hand towards her and she collapsed to the ground a
second later.
He had to get out of here now. This had gone horribly wrong. "Mary!
Get out now! Mission aborted!"
Silence. Fuck .
He had to get out of here now, Ruth was as good as dead and the
Council needed to know this psion was a bigger threat than they
realized. But eluding a mind-reading man was going to be a difficult
proposition, so he had to be careful and sneak out as quickly and
quietly as possible. He opened the door leading to the lower floors
and drew his pistol, preparing for an attack to come, either mentally
or physically.
Seattle, United States of America
The safe house shouldn't be too far now. According to what Ruth had
provided Zhang, there were only a few likely places they'd establish
operations and fortunately, both were pretty close. She was hoping
she looked nondescript enough, wearing a beige shirt with a brown
leather jacket over it carrying one of Shen's new Pulse pistols, and
brown pants. The combat boots might be a little out of place, but
she'd prefer the enhanced mobility if something had happened.
Right, so here she was. A fairly ordinary hotel, just on the outskirts.
Not a dump, but also unlikely to attract much attention. She walked
into the mostly empty lobby, her boots clacking on the tile as she
walked to the elevator.
Then froze, her enhanced eyes focusing on the camera. For all
intents and purposes, it looked working, but she could clearly see
that the power had been cut. She went cold and withdrew her pistol,
taking some comfort in the red glow of the laser.
Ok. How best to deal with this. She needed to get into the room, that
much was clear, but how to do it in a discreet way. She thought for a
moment, and the answer soon came. It wasn't perfect, but it might
allow her to keep the element of surprise. She aimed the pistol at the
handle and fired, turning the cheap metal to slag after a few seconds
of sustained fire.
As the door swung open, she immediately saw two people, none of
whom she recognized. A man and a woman. She didn't hesitate and
fired two quick beams at their heads, melting new holes in their
brains. They collapsed to the ground and she took a step forward
into the small room, weapon still raised.
Sitting at the far corner at a desk was Akello, slumped over with
several bullet holes in her back, the desk, laptop and floor stained
with her blood. She quickly swung her weapon around, confirming
that there were no other enemies. She carefully knelt down to the
bodies of these people and turned the woman over.
Her face was a melted mess now, but she was definitely a soldier.
She had some body armor underneath her civilian clothes, as well as
a pistol in her jacket. Abby quickly rifled through her pockets, finding
a pocketknife, some change and a wallet. She quickly opened it up
and took out some cash and credit cards. There was an ID, but she'd
seen enough fakeries to know this wasn't real. But frustratingly no
solid ID.
She repeated the same thing with the man, and similarly found
nothing worthwhile. She scowled and rose, her heart pounding as
she struggled to piece this together. No markings or identification. All
signs pointed to an EXALT attack, but it felt wrong. Zhang had said
they had something of a truce with XCOM now, unless they'd been
lying….
She stepped over the bodies and slowly made her way towards
Akello, grasping the body lightly by the shoulder and pulling it up. It
was surprisingly easy to move, and the skin still felt warm which
meant that she'd died recently. And she was dead, no doubt about it.
No one could survive this much blood loss and a shot to the head.
Akello's face was oddly serene, which only told her that she hadn't
been expecting this attack. Abby looked to where she was sitting,
then back at the body. It didn't add up. These shots had been at
point-blank range, and the glass was intact meaning that this wasn't
done by a sniper. She'd also been working, and there was no way
that anyone could get to the angle needed without her noticing.
So what did that mean? Had Akello known these people? Let them in
and when she'd gone back to work, they'd shot her in the back?
Following that logic, that did rule out EXALT, but then that raised the
question of who ?
So two possibilities: Either Akello had let them in, or they'd had a key
of their own. It had to be the former. Akello would have ensured that
there was no other key, not to mention she had control of the
cameras and would be able to know when someone was coming up.
Even if they did have a key and used it, why would Akello just sit
there as they came in? She had a direct line of sight to the door, and
couldn't have missed it opening.
Abby nodded. The chances of her not knowing these people was
close to nonexistent. In which case, the next question was who these
people were. She knelt down by the bodies again. Israeli agents,
perhaps? It would explain why Ruth might allow others in, but neither
of them looked Israeli. Both were Caucasian and if she had to have
guessed, maybe American or European. Besides, why would Israel
want to not only hurt XCOM, but take out their own former agents for
no reason?
But that still didn't make sense. Maybe if Zhang hadn't said there
was something of a truce, but even taking that away, they still
shouldn't have been able to surprise them unless of course they
knew they were coming? Abby pursed her lips as she stood.
Something was really off here. No suspect made sense. Perhaps
agents from another country? But who and why?
She reached down and picked up one of their pistols, taking a good
look at it. Grasping it, she walked back to where Akello's corpse was,
trying to recreate exactly what might have happened. So Akello was
working, perhaps one of these operatives had come up behind her
when her guard was down, raised her pistol like so, and…
The good news was that Ruth and Kalonymous were gone.
Hopefully they were still alive, but if they had been working with…
someone, they were walking into a trap would die unless warned.
That meant she needed to know where they were headed. Abby
looked at the blood-splattered screen, only seeing several
documents and programming shells open.
She looked at the papers on the table, her eyes immediately drawn
to the markings on a map. She grimaced as she picked up the map
which had some dried blood on it, but didn't really have a choice.
There was definitely something supposed to happen at one
particular… housing complex? Apartment? Whatever the case it was
circled, with several lines drawn in different colors to and from here.
There were also an array of numbers on the map. Times. She looked
down at the list. 4:30. Was that when the operation was supposed to
happen? She glanced at the time right now. 2:41. Damn it. She might
be wrong, but it didn't look like she had a choice. Ruth and
Kalonymous were walking into a trap, and if she couldn't get there in
time they were probably going to die.
"I'll come back," she promised Akello's corpse, feeling a stab of guilt
over leaving her so quickly. But she didn't deserve to die like this,
and the least she could do was make sure she was taken care of.
But not before the people who did this paid for their crimes. Grabbing
the map, she quickly exited the room, furiously planning how she
was going to get there.
Concrete all the way down. No way he could get out this way. The
sound of fabric rubbing together reached his ears and he spun
towards the sound, pistol raised at the young woman who clearly
lived here. But she was standing in a way he suspected she was
unaccustomed to. Straight and with her hands clasped behind her
back, something an executive or businesswoman would do, not a
young woman who lived here.
"Do you really think you can leave here, Cerian Irelan?" She asked,
though he knew that the Chronicler was speaking through her.
"Put that down," she… he… said, scorn emanating from her light
voice. She had an unnatural smile on her face as she appraised him.
"You are not going to shoot an innocent woman."
"Do you really think knocking out one single woman changes
anything?" A man with similar purple irises asked from the end of the
hall, leaning casually against it.
"Let them go," Cerian demanded, raising his pistol again. "It's me
you want."
The man shook his head. "I'm disappointed, but not surprised. But
no. You brought this upon yourself and all these people. Your people
will die because of you."
Cerian smiled. "No they won't. They'll be long gone by the time you
try to find them."
The man's eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed to the
ground. Cerian frowned, and slowly began moving down the rickety
stairs, and just as he reached the next floor the lights went out. He
scowled into the darkness, wishing he had a flashlight, although that
would make him very obvious. The Chronicler was clearly trying to
get into his head and unnerve him.
Cerian pulled out a knife, even knowing it was futile. "And you
wondered why we consider you a threat."
Cerian went cold as he realized what was going to happen. "I won't
do that."
"You are strong, for one untrained," he heard the Chronicler say
above him. "But not quite strong enough."
Cerian didn't know how long he held out for. It could have been as
short as a few minutes or as long as a few hours. Either way he
knew at one point he broke and something else entered his mind.
And oddly enough, it didn't hurt as much as he'd thought it would.
Everything felt faded around him, like he was sleepwalking, seeing
the world, but not quite comprehending it.
He'd have to think on that. But after he retrieved his sniper rifle. He
had a feeling like he was going to need it later.
Seattle, United States of America
Abby drew her own weapon and cautiously walked forward until she
got a good look at the corpse. "Damn it," she muttered as she
realized who it was. Kalonymous must have tried to launch a
surprise attack, though from his dying expression, she guessed it
had been the other way around. The shots were exceedingly precise
too, one in the head and one in the throat.
She looked back at the body, noting that the shots seemed to have
impacted directly from the front, and his body wasn't facing the roofs,
so that lowered the possibility of a sniper. Regardless, whoever had
killed him was an excellent shot.
Something was telling her that she'd find some answers inside,
though she really didn't have much more than that to go on. Perhaps
someone who'd been here could answer her questions. Although…
as she looked at the building again, she couldn't ignore that there
was no light coming from it. Was the power out? Was anyone even
living here?
From what she'd been able to read on this place, it was being lived
in, but then where was everyone? A shooting would have attracted
attention, and at least gotten some kind of police response. Unless
of course the residents couldn't tell them…
Now the question was where to start searching. Room by room? No,
too impractical and it would take forever. She looked around on the
floors and doors, seeing if any seemed unlike the others. She
frowned and walked over to one door a few feet away. The carpet
before it had some kind of dark liquid staining it, only a few drops,
however…
She knelt and lightly placed a finger on it. Wet. She brought it to her
nose. No mistaking it, definitely blood. She stood and aimed her
pistol at the door and fired at the handle, melting it off and pushed
the door open.
"Fuck!" She snarled as she looked at the sight before her, anger
replacing any trepidation she had. Ruth laid on the ground, stripped
of almost all her clothing and bound at the hands and ankles. Her
body was covered in purple splotches, bruises at first glance. She'd
also been cut at the elbows and knees, locations that were surgical
and only intended to debilitate.
Abby felt some hope as she saw her chest rising and falling. She
needed immediate medical attention otherwise the joints would get
infected and then… well, worst case they'd have to be amputated.
She dashed over to Ruth, pulling out her knife. "Stay with me," she
ordered here. "I'm getting you out of here."
Her voice apparently woke her up, or at least grabbed her attention.
"Abby?" She murmured deliriously. "What are you doing-"
"Tricked," she muttered, her head slumping forward. "It was a trap.
He knew we were coming."
"Hey! Stay up," Abby ordered, thinking furiously. "We don't have far."
Ruth simply nodded and they kept moving, foot by excruciating foot.
This was much worse than she could have imagined. EXALT or the
aliens she could understand, but the UN ? Why would they want to
attack XCOM? Or had Ruth been close to uncovering something?
Wait….
She perked up as a new idea entered her head. If Ruth had been
ready to uncover something, it might not have just been dealing with
EXALT. Maybe the United Nations was involved as well, and in
response had sent their own team to get rid of the troublemakers
under the guise of dealing with EXALT. But what could that mean?
Zhang would have to sort that out. All she needed to do was get out.
"Almost outside," she encouraged as they got close to the exit. "This
Cerian, he still here?"
She probably should have asked that question first, but they were
somewhat pressed for time regardless. "Assume so," Ruth muttered
in a daze. "Didn't really say he was leaving after he beat me up.
Didn't even ask any questions."
A cool breeze swept over them as they took in the evening. But
something was different. There was someone-
Ruth's head snapped back and Abby's face was splattered in blood
as Ruth's head took the impact of the bullet. A perfect shot, splitting
the forehead wide open, killing her instantly. Self-preservation took
over and Abby dropped her now-dead friend and spun back into the
apartment, near the entrance.
She leaned back as two more shots thudded into the wall behind her
and prepared her shot. One pulse shot would be all it would take,
and she only had to hit the weapon to debilitate him. She swung out,
raising the pistol and fired a simmering red beam towards the sniper
which hit the rifle dead-on, making it spark and forcing him to step
back.
She lowered her weapon, letting her fury simmer as she watched the
man who'd killed Ruth stumble back, gritting his teeth in pain. With
practiced movements she reloaded the pulse pistol and slowly
approached the man. He held up his good hand. "Wait."
She instantly aimed her pistol at his knees and fired a sustained
beam and directed the beam left, neatly cutting the legs at that point.
He screamed as his functioning body fell to the ground, sweat
pouring down his face and flushed red from the pain, as well as
panting heavily.
"You killed her!" Abby snarled, the anger inside her rising even
higher as she stood over him. " Why ? Who are you!?"
He's lying .
Abby frowned at the voice in her head. It was hers, yes, but with a
conviction and certainty she wasn't sure could be possible. Except…
after thinking about it a few seconds, she ultimately agreed with it.
He wasn't lying about why he'd done it or his name, but she was
pretty sure she understood what was going on. "Maybe better than
you think," she stated coldly, aiming the pistol at his head. "Who do
you work for?"
So it was true. Her pistol wavered. What should she do? Take him
prisoner for interrogation seemed the smartest thing to do. If this
extended beyond the Council, they needed to know exactly how high
up this went. That was assuming that he even knew anything. It
wasn't as though they could use him as a reliable witness if it was
true. He would just be disavowed. The UN would never risk using
someone who would actually be able to implicate them.
Do you really think the Council would actually leave anyone behind
who could actually tell us anything?
She scowled, that thought making more sense that she liked. Still
though, was killing him the best solution? And for what? Because
she'd feel better. No, of course not.
But that should be for Zhang to decide. She argued in her head, not
sure what to do. Not me.
Why not? The other voice persisted. You know he is going to die
anyway. Why shouldn't it be by your hand?
Because she realized that she wanted him dead, and she wanted to
be the one to do it. Abby shook her head. Sure, maybe he deserved
to die for what he'd done, well he did . But… she wasn't a killer, not
like Ruth or Zhang.
Yes you are. You became one the moment you executed those
people.
And the worst part of that persistent little voice was that she feared it
was right. She didn't like it, she hadn't wanted anything like it. But the
fact was that it was a part of her, her darkest aspect, but one that
existed nonetheless. No matter how much she tried to deny it, that
would never change. She was a killer, now and forever.
Still though, even if she accepted that, she didn't have to act like one
all the time.
Like now, maybe. She doubted that either the Commander or Zhang
would begrudge her if she killed this man. But this was different from
killing those two people back in California. Back then she'd been
under orders, but if she killed him here it would be of her own
volition. She'd cross a line that could never be taken back.
But it really? How is this any different than killing wounded aliens?
He is an enemy. He is not innocent. Unlike those two, this man
actually deserves it.
He was cut off by a red beam drilling into his forehead. Mouth half-
open, he fell back into the concrete, dead eyes looking skyward as
red and gray liquid leaked out of the neat hole the laser had made.
Abby lowered the pistol slowly, looking on the corpse with a coldness
she hadn't known she'd possessed. Oddly enough, seeing him dead
before her… didn't elicit a response. She didn't feel bad, didn't feel
like she'd done something wrong. And in a way, it did make sense.
He was a threat, an enemy combatant, and she'd just neutralized
him.
Zhang might be disappointed that she hadn't brought him back alive,
but she knew intrinsically that it would have been a waste of time. He
wouldn't have cracked, and even if he had, he wouldn't have told
them anything that could help them. Besides, if he'd been killed in a
shootout there really wasn't anything she could have done to capture
him.
Her lips pursed at that. She disliked lying to Zhang, should it come to
that, but she didn't feel that bad about it. He owed her one after
making her kill two civilians, and this would be sufficient payment.
But the Council really doing this…
She shook her head. She'd personally felt the Commander's dislike
of them was irrational, but perhaps he had good reason to be.
Perhaps he'd already known the Council was moving against them,
else why activate the Demeter Contingency? Why create ADVENT
unless the old institution needed to be destroyed and rebuilt?
Abby sighed and reached down to close her eyes. It wasn't much,
but it did make her look a little more at peace. Marginally. She rose
and pulled out her phone. She wanted out of this place now.
Zhang read her report in silence while she stood straight, hands
clasped behind her back as she waited for the inevitable questioning.
The extent of the emotion he'd displayed when she'd told him the
brief story had been a frown, though she could tell he wasn't entirely
happy. Something seemed off with him, though if she hadn't been
enhanced, she'd probably miss the facial cues that he wasn't as
focused as normal.
"You're certain that the man you killed was Cerian Irelan?" Zhang
finally asked, setting the report quietly down on the table.
"No," Zhang answered. "But if he was UN, I would expect any traces
of him were removed. His team, however, we were able to identify."
"The two people you killed were former intelligence agents," Zhang
informed her, picking up some pictures and handing them to her.
"Olivia Croian and Baston Novian. MI6 and NATO respectively. As far
as we've been able to determine, they haven't been transferred. That
being said, that gives us a line of questioning into the UN's
involvement."
She could read between the lines easily enough. "But that's not
enough."
"No," he stated bluntly, his hardened eyes boring into hers. "As you
were unable to bring in Cerian for questioning, we cannot officially
prove it."
"Of course they would deny it," Zhang almost growled. "But what it
would have done is connected him to the other bodies we found. It
would give us more validity and made it harder for the Council to
deny this. I believe you, but we will have to act on this carefully."
"I did what was needed," Abby defended neutrally. "I preferred not to
risk getting shot in the head."
"I know," Zhang said in an equally neutral tone. "But in the future,
exercise restraint. I know she was your friend, but that cannot affect
you completing the mission."
"Good," Zhang said, pursing his lips. "Now as to what we will do with
this, that has yet to be decided. If the Council is taking action against
us, we may have to speed up the execution of the Demeter
Contingency. I assume you read it?"
"Of course," was all she said. "And I assume you have plans to
deploy me in preparation?"
"I do," he nodded. "But I am curious. Will you have an issue carrying
out this contingency?"
She was silent a few moments before answering. If he'd asked her
that even a few days ago, the answer would have probably been a
yes. She'd probably have still done it if ordered, but it wouldn't have
been something she'd ever endorse. But that wasn't the case now.
She'd been naïve to have ignored that. And she had ignored every
problem in the UN, tried to justify it even when knowing deep down
that it wasn't an ideal humanity should strive for. It was just as
vindictive and traitorous as EXALT, even worse since EXALT hadn't
ever hidden behind the façade of friendship.
How ironic that the Commander had been right all along to be
suspicious of the United Nations. No wonder he had plans to remove
it if it had ever became an enemy. She'd always thought it was a
grudge, and it might be in part, but given what she'd seen now, she
was now wondering if the stories surrounding the War on Terror were
completely accurate.
So her response was easy. "No, Director. I will carry out whatever
you order."
Zhang nodded once. "I'm glad to hear it. The attack on New York
killed quite a few people, United Nations personnel included. You've
proven that you can perform well undercover, so I believe that skill
could be applied there until the Demeter Contingency is executed."
Abby nodded. "Just let me know my identity and position and I'll
assimilate myself properly."
"I will need some time to find an appropriate file, but you will know
soon," he answered. He appraised her for a few seconds, his face
seeming to soften ever slightly. "You've become an excellent agent,
Abby. Ruth would have been proud."
"I'm certain of that," Zhang said, his tone softening slightly. "And be
patient. We will deal with the United Nations decisively."
Abby's hand snapped into a salute, her fist over her chest towards
her Intelligence Director. "I look forward to it."
"As do I," he nodded grimly. "Get some rest, agent. It will be some
time before you're deployed."
With that, she exited the room and headed towards the Barracks to
see if she was still able to sleep.
The Commander himself. Alive and in front of her this whole time.
Because Shen and Van Doorn had been right. He hadn't hidden
anything. The only lie she could actually point to was his identity.
Granted it was slightly important, but as far as she could see, even if
he hadn't said he was the Commander, he'd certainly acted like it.
She understood exactly why he hadn't told any of them at first, and
back at the beginning, at best she would have been unnerved that
someone like that was her commanding officer.
But now? No, if there was anyone who understood what it would
take to defeat the Ethereals, it was him. She understood his mindset
better now that she agreed with it to a large degree.
The fact that he'd still allowed her, a mind-reading psionic, into his
inner circle, even knowing that at any moment she could break into
his mind… that showed that he actually trusted her. She'd always
known there were secrets he was keeping, and now that she knew
what some of them were… he'd still promoted her anyway.
She remembered all the speculation back in the days of the War on
Terror. How people around had wondered why he was doing his
infamous acts. Asking how he could possibly justify them. Most didn't
know, but after what she'd seen, there was one core mission she
knew the Commander was trying to achieve.
The Commander thrust his arm forward and sent the small blocks
towards one of the dummies that had been set up. The metal cubes
struck the dummy with enough force to push it over. Wincing, the
Commander shook his arm. "That's a little more difficult than it
looks."
"But it's better than before," Patricia encouraged, walking up to him.
"Three at once isn't bad."
"So far I've just been throwing things," he said, gesturing to the
blocks. "Why not just try to attack the target directly?"
She shrugged. "No reason why not, go for it. I only suggested that
because I thought it would be good for training."
"And it is," he nodded. "But… I don't think it's the most effective form
of attack. Manipulating targets directly is probably harder, but I'd
imagine it's more effective."
Patricia got an idea then. She was little help with him developing his
telekinetic abilities. The most she could do was teach him some
mental defenses, and unsurprisingly, he'd been decent at shutting
her out, lasting a full half-minute against her. Not especially great,
but in the middle of a fight, it would be more than enough.
Patricia smirked. "Don't let Vahlen hear that. She might get the
wrong idea."
The Commander just raised an eyebrow, though she could sense his
amusement. "How cute. Do you really think I would be stupid enough
to risk the wrath of Vahlen and Creed?"
Oh. Well, she wasn't aware he knew about the two of them. "Point
taken," she scowled, wishing she'd held her tongue with that little
jab.
Nothing happened at first, but a few seconds later she felt the air
compress around her. Not suffocate . Compress . Like she was
enveloped in an invisible blanket. Almost like being underwater,
really. There was something around her, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
The blanket closed in and that changed.
She felt herself hoisted up a few feet, the compressed air around her
enclosing her in an intangible prison. He was fully drawing upon his
power now, sweat beading his face and looking up at her with
purple-tinged irises. His hand closed into a fist and she gasped as
the compression became inexplicably tighter.
He opened his palm and the pressure vanished and she fell a few
feet to the floor. There was a thin sheet of sweat over him now, and
he was breathing a little heavier than before. "Not bad," she
complimented, walking up. "You weren't kidding about being rough."
"That will be taken care of," the Commander assured her. "There
isn't a shortage of criminals."
He did regret that it had come to this, however. He hadn't know what
had happened to the good men and women of the United Nations,
but if there'd been any left they wouldn't have acted like scared
children, Commander or no Commander.
Herman wasn't even sure they'd listen to what he'd said. His words
had been the truth, as far as he could tell. But for some reason, it felt
like it was yelling into an echo chamber where people only heard
what they wanted to hear. He had the feeling that nothing was going
to change. Warnup was going to believe that he was right and that
Herman had been corrupted or turned by having the audacity to
suggest that maybe the Commander shouldn't be the focus right
now. And Tamara and her faction was going to feel emboldened,
maybe going so far as to make use of their influence in more radical
ways. Either way, the divide was only going to get worse and he had
no desire to be a part of it anymore.
As luck would have it, he spotted Peter sitting alone at one of the
tables in the Mess Hall. Well, he could use a friendly face right now.
Food could wait. There were several groups of soldiers scattered
around the room, quite a few he didn't recognize at all, but none of
them paid him any attention. Peter didn't react as he sat down
beside him, just staring ahead with a glass filled with ice in his hand.
He blinked at that, some actual interest in his voice now. " You quit
the United Nations?"
"For now," Herman amended. "I'll rejoin when they actually have
some intelligent people in charge."
Peter frowned. "Was it really that bad? I know that relations are
strained for… good reason, apparently, but enough for you to quit?"
"Sadly, yes," Herman sighed, looking ahead. "Long story, but it's all
centered around the Commander. And no, don't ask me why, I still
have to respect the label of classified-"
Herman glanced over at him again, now connecting why his friend
had seemed distracted and was here instead of working. "He told
you, I assume?"
"Yep," Peter stated tonelessly. "He did. I don't know why I'm so
surprised. It wasn't like he really tried to hide anything. You knew, I
assume?"
"But you had orders," Peter nodded. "Right. I understand. But still…"
He sighed and swirled his drink again, the ice cubes clinking around
the glass. "I'm still trying to think. Wrap my head around it. I'd
wondered what the Commander was really like. A heartless killer. An
emotionless sociopath. A genius manipulator. I almost wish he were
one of those. Would sure make this easier."
Peter sighed again. "I don't know. It's difficult to picture him carrying
out his crimes during the War on Terror, but at the same time, it's
because I know how he would have done it. I can now picture clearly
his justifications, tactics and reasoning for every action. And you
know what? A part of it makes sense ." Peter set the glass gently on
the table. "The Commander is a persuasive man. Insidious in a way.
You don't know what I've seen and approved because he convinced
me that even if it was wrong, it was necessary. "
Herman was now realizing that he'd missed quite a lot of the internal
dealings of XCOM, and knowingly or not, Peter was essentially
admitting that XCOM wasn't exactly holding itself to a high moral
standard.
"You don't have to forget, you know," Herman finally said. "Trust me,
I felt the same coming here."
Peter looked down at the steel table, wearily staring into the
reflective metal. "I did. Still do, really. I know why the Council kept
him alive. Because men like him are needed in times like this."
"Right," Herman nodded. "So work with him. You don't have to be
friends to be allies. The Council doesn't understand this, and I don't
want you falling into the same trap. This is bigger than you or the
Commander. Fighting or leaving isn't going to help anyone, aside
from maybe give you a clearer conscience."
Peter was silent for a few minutes. "You're right," he finally said.
"Whether or not I work for the Commander, my primary mission is to
defend humanity. I can't ignore that now."
"No, you can't," Herman smiled. "So snap out of it and get to work.
Make it clear to the Commander where you stand, and he'll accept
that. In the meantime, you probably need a drink. I think you deserve
one right now."
Peter gave him a weary smile. "You know, I think I'll take you up on
that. Just a few shots. It's been too long since we've talked anyway."
"Go get the drink," Peter chided. "I'll tell you the whole boring story if
you're really that interested."
Herman gave him a mock salute. "On it, General." Standing up, he
went off to get the drinks, looking forward to hopefully getting caught
up on all the recent events happening here.
Well, at least the ones Peter could tell him. The rest he might have to
figure out on his own.
The Commander didn't see Bradford, but knew Zhang had called
him down for something a short time ago, leaving Jackson in charge
for the moment. He stopped walking for a moment, then finally
located her standing along the far wall, observing several screens
with various news stations broadcasting various stories about the
world and invasion.
But he had an ulterior motive beyond simply checking in. Time to see
how Jackson was handling all of this. He walked up to her, hoping he
was noticeable enough that she wouldn't be surprised. It seemed he
was as he saw her glance out of the corner of her eye and slightly
scoot to the left to let him stand beside her.
She shook her head. "Not anything worth noting. All the American
stations are trying to puzzle out the President's bill and the rest are
talking about Israel, China, the Koreas, and Brazil of course. But little
of substance." He detected a hardness to her tone as she finished,
but what he felt from her was confusion.
He let the silence last for a few minutes, feeling her growing more
uncomfortable. "Jackson, if you have something to say, just say it,"
he finally said. "I promise I won't take offense."
The Commander thought for a long time before he answered. "I don't
know."
"Not one that solved the problem of the Caliphate," the Commander
said. "The Caliphate had to die; uprooted by root and stem. And that
was what I did. NATO would not have done it, they wouldn't have
been as thorough, because being thorough requires monsters to
carry it out. If your question is if I regret what I did…"
He trailed off for a moment. "There are things I did that I regret.
Choices I made. Easy to say in hindsight, now that I know how it
turns out. I would have done things differently. Ended it in a way that
didn't leave little but devastation. I do not regret the destruction of
the Caliphate. I regret that I am the reason the Middle East was
ruined."
He looked away again. "I don't know if it was worth it in the end. The
Caliphate was destroyed, I lost my family, my people, and the region
exploited and destroyed. There is no grand tyrant ruling over Arabia,
only petty ones, and foreigners from across the seas. I was not
responsible for the Caliph's rise, but I am responsible for this."
Jackson didn't answer right away. "I remember what you did when
the Accords were being renegotiated. I thought it was odd at the
time; I didn't know why you were fighting so hard. It wasn't really
worth it, just from the numbers." Her voice went quieter. "I
understand it now. Even if it didn't work…"
"I needed to try," the Commander said. "I need to try. I don't accept
that this is inevitable. That the world must remain in this way. If I can
change it for the better, that is what I will do. They are owed that
much. All of Humanity is owed this. If I don't do this, then I deserve
none of this authority and power. I don't deserve this chance to…
amend."
"Deserve? No, I don't," the Commander shook his head. "But what
we deserve and what we get are rarely aligned. I may not deserve
this, but I am not going to waste it. That I promise."
"Good, that's the best we can do," she agreed. "We can only try and
be better."
"A worthy goal to aspire to," she said, then cleared her throat.
"Anyway, we have new threats against the world to contend with.
The Caliphate is dead and gone, the Ethereals are still coming. Lots
of work to do."
"That it is," Jackson agreed softly, scratching her chin. "That it is."
The good news was that both Van Doorn and Bradford seemed to be
fine being around him again. But both of them, especially Van Doorn
felt especially distant. Cold. They were willing to work with him, but
not more beyond that. Which was fine for him, dealing with the aliens
was more important.
But now they needed to get to business which was what Zhang had
asked them here for.
Bradford frowned, one hand scratching his chin. "Are you certain the
decryption was done correctly?"
Zhang almost glared at him for that. "Yes, Central. Yes, I'm sure the
decryption was done correctly, that is my job ."
"So why the change?" Van Doorn finally asked, his tone deliberately
neutral.
"Two possible reasons I can see," Zhang continued. "One, this was
planned. Perhaps a system where Zararch agents rotate decryption
keys every few weeks or months."
The Commander nodded. "A very risky one, but short of executing
him, probably our best one. He said that there were other Vitakara
who might be willing to rebel against the Ethereals, given sufficient
motivation and opportunity. That is an opportunity that we shouldn't
waste."
"A double agent," Zhang pursed his lips. "Assuming he is reliable,
that would be a good idea."
"But that would involve letting him go," Bradford pointed out. "And if
we do… there's nothing stopping him from giving everything he has
on us to the Ethereals."
The Commander sighed. "I know. But what exactly could he give to
them that he hasn't already? Our names? Our soldiers? He doesn't
know our plans or the extent of our tech. He doesn't know about
ADVENT. Even if he does betray us, there is very little damage he
could do that he hasn't done already."
Bradford scratched his cheek. "You do raise a good point. But if he's
a double agent, I assume he would have a way to contact us. He
could potentially be used to feed bad intel similar to what we're doing
now."
"Exactly," the Commander confirmed. "I would have preferred for the
Manchurian Program to be utilized here, but as that isn't finalized
yet, psionics would have to suffice."
The Commander shook his head. "No. He couldn't. But that would be
one of the risks. The question I have is if this should actually be
considered, or if you feel there are better alternatives?"
All of them were silent for a few minutes. "As you said," Van Doorn
answered dejectedly. "Short of killing him, this is probably the best
solution. Provided he agrees to it at all."
"His cooperation won't be an issue," the Commander dismissed. "He
genuinely does seem to want to help, and alien or no, that isn't
something I'll turn down. Zhang and I will go speak to him soon and
bring this up. If he's willing we'll begin working out specifics, but for
now it isn't decided. Sound good?"
"Here is Abby's report," Zhang said, handing him his tablet. "The
implications are unpleasant, to put it lightly."
"It seems unlike them," Van Doorn muttered. "Even if they are
genuinely afraid of you, they typically don't send out kill squads,
especially against friendly forces."
"Both of which are possible," the Commander said grimly, setting the
tablet down. "Unfortunately the only people who knew for certain are
dead, and we only have some vague suggestions as to how this was
carried out. From what agent Shira implied, this wasn't a simple
attack. They were approached as friendly and betrayed later."
"I think that the big question is if they actually are UN or not," Van
Doorn said slowly. "How exactly do we know that these aren't EXALT
agents, especially given the proximity to Solaris Industries?"
"Not to mention agents Shira and Gertrude are reliable and honest
when it comes to this," the Commander reminded them. "They
wouldn't make accusations like this if they weren't completely sure."
"No," Van Doorn agreed. "But it is also possible they are wrong."
"That it is," the Commander said. "I suppose I could have Patricia
examine Abby's memories to be sure, but ultimately, this doesn't
change much. We don't have enough information to act, and the
Council and United Nations will not be a problem much longer."
"Not from what I've seen," Zhang shook his head. "Their variant,
while more powerful than conventional weapons, isn't quite as strong
as ours. Though the trade-off is worth it, especially when armies
need to be enhanced."
"Still to be determined," the Commander said. "If they must know, tell
them I have narrowed the number down to three candidates and will
decide one soon. It will be resolved before ADVENT goes public."
"I think they won't object to that," Van Doorn nodded. "A good move,
and keeps everyone on the same page."
"I appears she took some inspiration from our MEC troopers," he
said, handing the tablet back to Zhang. "But an army of those would
definitely help."
"Smart woman," Van Doorn said. "Let's hope that everything keeps
going this smoothly."
The Commander could bet that all of them agreed with that.
Unfortunately, he'd learned that the chances of everything going right
were essentially impossible.
The Ethereals were being quiet. The only recent contact had been a
scout that had been promptly shut down and raided, with no
casualties a day or so ago. Which was extremely concerning to him.
That meant that they were preparing for something. No more probing
attacks or abductions could only mean that they'd gotten what they'd
wanted and were just waiting for… something.
Nartha perked up as he heard the door opening. Shun had only been
here a couple of days ago, so he hadn't expected her for some time.
As it turned out, it was not Shun walking through the door, but the
Commander and Zhang.
He stood to face them. Well, time to finally learn what they'd decided
to do with him. "Hello, Commander," he nodded towards Zhang.
"Director."
Nartha looked down at the paper and went cold. The specific
arrangement of symbols, binary and length only indicated a very
specific kind of code. He couldn't decrypt the specifics, but that
header was only used in one instance. "It's a recall command," he
answered, looking up. "Orders to return to a designated point."
"That," Nartha nodded. "Or they suspect I've been compromised and
they want to see what I'll do."
"So this might not mean an attack is coming," the Commander said
slowly.
The threat was very clear, but unfortunately, Nartha had a good
answer for that. "This likely means they're worried I've been
compromised, so they modified the key enough so that I could make
out the general order, but not specific places and details."
"Essentially."
"How long do you have?" Zhang asked, crossing his arms. "Before
they either assume you failed or are compromised?"
"From XCOM?" Nartha paused. "A week at least. They know I can't
just walk out of here."
"So what about me?" Nartha asked. "I doubt you intend to keep me
in this cell forever."
"I was hoping I could get some more assurance, but we're out of
time," the Commander said. "You said that there are Vitakara who
would rebel if given the chance?"
Ah, he knew where the Commander was going. "If you're asking
what I'd be able to do….yes, it would be possible. But it wouldn't be
fast, and you likely wouldn't notice any impact. Not to mention if
anyone discovers talk of this kind… the Ethereals would put a
definitive stop to it."
Both humans appraised him for a few seconds. "Is that what you
want?" Nartha asked. "For me to be a double agent to make trouble
for the Ethereals at home?"
"Ideally," the Commander stated neutrally. "The issue isn't the plan.
It's that I don't believe you're completely reliable."
Which did make sense. The Commander had no control over him if
he sent him away, which meant he could tell everything to the
Ethereals with no fear of immediate reprisal. If he knew at all, since
he didn't believe the Commander had ears within the Zararch. "I can
only give you my word," Nartha shrugged. "Think about if that's worth
anything. But keep in mind that we wouldn't be having this
conversation if not for me."
The Commander pursed his lips. "I've taken that into account,
Nartha, and it is the only reason I'm even considering this. But you
know that, regardless of your motives or decisions, it won't matter if
they decide to debrief you with an Ethereal present. You won't be
able to lie under that."
"We might not be able to predict what will happen when you return,"
the Commander continued. "But there is a way we can determine
your reliability."
"I don't like it," he stated, likely to the surprise of neither of them. "But
I don't really think I have much of a choice if I want to convince you.
Do it if you feel it's necessary."
The Commander nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. It will be done within a
couple days while we work out specifics of what we want you to do."
He was almost glad that they'd shot down that scout, since that had
been sort of a unifying moment for all of them, when they realized
that even if there were major disagreements between them, they
could still work together to focus on what really mattered: Stopping
the Ethereals. Even Shen had come to terms with it, even if he felt
there were still some things they needed to discuss
Flanked by Patricia and Zhang, they strode into the Situation Room
where Bradford, Jackson and Van Doorn were standing around the
holotable. "Status update!" The Commander demanded. "What's
going on?"
"That's not the only ship approaching," Jackson added, switching the
hologram. "It's being accompanied by three UFOs. Two Raider-class
and another design we've only seen once."
All of them exchanged a look. "It looks like they're serious about
finishing us off," the Commander noted, fixating on the holograms.
"Showtime, then. We've prepared for this eventuality. Time to put it
into practice."
Supplementary Material
APPROVED BY:
1. PRE-INITIALIZATION DIRECTIVES
2. ACTIVATION PROTOCOLS
APPROVED BY:
1. PRE-INITIALIZATION DIRECTIVES
2. ACTIVATION PROTOCOLS
APPROVED BY:
1. PRE-INITIALIZATION DIRECTIVES
2. ACTIVATION PROTOCOLS
APPROVED BY:
1. PRE-INITIALIZATION DIRECTIVES
2. ACTIVATION PROTOCOLS
-1. PREPARATION: All personnel within XCOM Intelligence will arm
themselves with weapons and armor from the local XCOM
Intelligence armory.
-3. CODE RED SIGNAL: As per protocol, the Code Red will be sent
to currently deployed XCOM Intelligence agents to warn them that
the Citadel is currently under attack and to keep a low profile until
the all-clear signal is sent.
APPROVED BY:
1. ACTIVATION PROTOCOLS
APPROVED BY:
1. PRE-INITIALIZATION DIRECTIVES
2. ACTIVATION PROTOCOLS
1. PRE-INITIALIZATION DIRECTIVES
2. ACTIVATION PROTOCOLS
-1. Ethereal
-3. Cyberdisk
A/N: I suppose this passes the 500k word mark. Honestly didn't
expect it to be this large, but I can't say I'm unhappy with it. Thank
you everyone for sticking with it and putting up with my abnormally
long chapters. The upcoming base defense will also not be the end
of the Atlas Protocol, but it will be drawing to a close soon. Now to do
the Base Defense justice.
-Xabiar
The Battle of the Citadel
The Battle of the Citadel
Patricia wore her new Aegis armor, now sporting her usual dark red
color which would no doubt be much less shiny after today. Under
normal circumstances she'd have likely been ecstatic over the
improvement, but now she looked at best concerned . Her helmet
rested on the holotable, her face stoic, staring at the ever-
encroaching UFO as it got closer and closer to the Citadel. But he
sensed her resolve, he sensed it in all of them.
Van Doorn also wore his own variation of the Aegis armor, colored in
a dull gray with light blue highlights. Flashes of purple gathered
around his hand as he absentmindedly called upon his own powers.
The General was also appraising the oncoming UFOs, but in a way
the Commander had seen often before, calculating and methodical.
A method he'd utilized much before. They'd had many discussions
regarding the weaknesses of the Citadel, and he knew as much as
the Commander when it came to this.
Patricia was sticking with her autorifle, but Van Doorn now wielded
the aptly named 'autoblaster', the pulse cannon that seemed
decidedly unstable at least to him since the core barrels were
exposed and glowed a hot red. Shen had assured him that it was
just as safe as the autorifle, but the weapon looked decided fragile to
him.
"Not without support," Bradford amended. "But they can hold their
own. They have the weaponry at least."
That they did. Even if armor was restricted, weapons were cheap
enough to produce that all the staff were at least armed with gen-1
laser weaponry. Conventional weaponry was a thing of the past, for
better or worse. Glass cannons the support personnel were, but it
was much better than nothing.
"Same with the supply halls," Patricia added with a nod. "There is a
lot of cover available, but I've set my soldiers at elevated positions
around the room. There is the risk of attacks from the roof, but more
likely from the tunnels leading to the surface."
He sighed. "You're right. But no matter what they throw at us, we can
win . That Ethereal had to flee before, and if we can corner it again,
we can ensure it won't escape."
"That is the best-case scenario," Van Doorn pointed out. "But you're
right. Guess it all comes down to this."
Patricia frowned, and both Van Doorn and Bradford looked at him
skeptically. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" Bradford asked slowly,
rapping his fingers on the holotable.
"I don't think he's untrustworthy," Patricia admitted, clearly not happy
to admit that. "But if the Ethereal arrives… he might turn…"
"If an Ethereal arrives, I doubt it'll be just him we have to worry about
turning on us," the Commander stated bluntly. "Unless anyone has
any serious objections, that's what I'm doing. Anyone?"
They weren't that happy about it, and neither was he, but none of
them raised any objections. "Then it's settled," the Commander said.
"Patricia, you ready in case they start off with a psionic attack?"
She nodded. "I am, which will certainly happen. But a mass-mind
control attempt won't be as powerful as a direct attack, so if each
psion nearby defends against local psionic attacks, you should
probably negate the worst of it."
"Well, let's hope that training paid off," Van Doorn muttered, flexing
his fingers. "I somehow doubt an Ethereal will go easy on us."
"Then we're screwed," the Commander said bluntly. "But let's worry
about that if it happens, ok?"
"Good," the Commander looked each of them in the eyes. "To your
stations then. Good luck and it's been an honor to serve with you."
He saluted them, and they all eventually returned it.
With that all of them left, Van Doorn and Bradford to Mission Control,
Patricia to the Supply Halls and him to the Hangar. Even against
stacked odds, he had no intention of dying today. That was not how
this story ended.
Nartha knew exactly what was happening. He'd known the second
the klaxon started blaring throughout the base. The Atlas Protocol
was being initialized which meant the Ethereals were coming.
But he wasn't strong enough to break out of the cell, and even if he
could, that would likely lead to him being shot by XCOM soldiers.
The only way out of here was if the Commander decided to let him
participate in the defense, and the chances of that happening were
roughly 50/50 from his own baseless speculation.
The door to his cell suddenly swung open and an armored XCOM
soldier walked in. It had the build of a woman, and was somewhat
smaller than him, even armored. The armor also seemed a bit
different, sleeker, thicker and well… more armored . New from
XCOM Engineering. The armor was painted a deep red, with a white
emblem of a hawk inside a diamond on the shoulder. A scout.
His suspicion was confirmed when she spoke, even though her
synthesized voice. "Yeah, it's me. We're going to be under attack
soon if you haven't noticed."
Nartha indicated the ceiling and continuing alarms. "Somewhat hard
to miss. Why are you here?"
She set the case down and kicked it in his direction. "You want to
help us?"
She nodded towards the case. "Get suited up. Orders from the
Commander to let you help."
"I've also got standing orders to kill you if you try and betray us," she
warned, though she was clearly amused. "So don't do that, please. I
really don't want to kill you."
"Let me help," Shun said, stepping forward and securing his armor
while he pulled on the gauntlets which actually clicked into place with
the center piece. He flexed his fingers, nodding in satisfaction as he
confirmed his full range of motion. Even if it was a bit heavier, the
armor looked and felt vastly superior to the previous iteration.
Shun stepped back and nodded once. "Looks good, just the helmet."
Nartha picked up his helm and flipped it onto his head once more,
waited a few seconds for it to boot up and once the HUD initialized,
gave a thumbs-up to Shun. She reached down and handed him one
of the new laser weapons. "Pulse rifle," she explained. "New and
improved laser weapons. Supposedly will cut through outsiders."
Nartha nodded, then frowned as a new thought struck him. "Do the
others know I'm coming?"
"Ah, good to know," he said, hoping she was right. "Where are the
others?"
"Guess they're as ready as they could be," Nartha said slowly. "All
we can do is wait."
"Yeah," Shun sighed as they ran towards the Hangar. "But only for
now."
If needed she would let the aliens into the actual storage area, a
boxed in kill zone which would allow the soldiers set up on the high
ground overlooking the storage depression to easily kill anything that
moved. The two offices near the entrance would also be excellent for
killing the initial waves, but secure enough to retreat to the open
areas when the alien forces became overwhelming.
And now all she could do was wait. She'd split up her initial defense
forces between the two entrances. She, Veronika and Orvil were
taking the right side, while Annette, Latrell and Han were taking the
left. Franklin and Creed would provide support for both.
Whatever issues the soldiers may have had with each other, all had
been dispelled once the klaxons began blaring. Now all she sensed
from everyone was a shared resolve, determination and anticipation.
She wasn't ignoring the fear and nervousness some of the soldiers
exuded, but it wasn't uncontrolled. Frankly, all of them should be
scared.
But they were soldiers. They were trained for this, and each of them
would retain control once the plasma and lead began raining down.
Annette also seemed to have resisted the initial attack and Patricia
sensed her growing anger and focus outward. For her part she
focused on the soldiers around her, specifically Han first, doing her
best to remove the psionic strands that were being planted in his
mind. It took a few seconds, but his mind was soon protected and
she moved to the rest of the soldiers behind her.
It seemed Garen, Aya and Meru were also suffering a similar attack.
All were trying to resist, but they were not psions. They couldn't hold
out against a sustained attack for long. But fortunately this psionic
attack was as brute force as could be possible. Intangible and broad,
with the command being simple and easy to defend as a result.
Kill .
Uninventive, but all it would take was one to get through and cause
havoc. Patricia gritted her teeth. Not today, Ethereal . She fed on her
own anger and frustration to amplify her own powers, methodically
finding each of her nearby soldiers and securing their minds, an
invisible shield over all of them keeping out the poisonous thoughts.
She realized she'd dropped her weapon and was gripping the railing
with enough force to slightly bend the steel. Something she really
only noticed when she opened her eyes and observed the purple-
tinted world. Everyone was focused, ready and prepared. She was
linked to everyone, the Battlemaster of the coming fight.
She didn't know how long she stood there, stiff and stoic as a piece
of stone before the psionic attack receded. It could have been
minutes or an hour. But it was gone. It was suddenly over and that
was when it hit.
And she sensed him. Not by her. But he was here and coming to
finish the job.
He's here . She sent to all the psions. Could you defend?
Barely. Both the Commander and Van Doorn sent back and she let
out a sigh of relief.
Well done, psion. The wail of the Ethereal's voice entered her mind.
A good resistance. But that was only a start. By the end of today you
will be dead and XCOM destroyed forever.
The words were stated with absolute certainty. Words that she
couldn't help but be nervous by. Yet she still knew they had a
chance. We will see.
She felt what seemed like amusement from him, but then again, it
might have been her imagination.
It had been a while since he'd been in full combat armor, much less
while prepared to rely on it. Herman was glad he'd practiced a bit
with the gauss weapons, so he did have something of a clue as how
to fire the damn things, which was more than he could say for some
of the staff above him.
Mission Control was a very enclosed area that held against several
choke points which were all fortunately on the far wall. Two circular
doors that led deeper into the caverns, and the storey above had two
doorways which led to the same area. The center of the room held a
depression containing the hologlobe, and surrounding it were desks
and short white walls which ended up making for decent cover.
To the right was Bradford and Jackson's personal offices, which was
also now being used as cover by several of the soldiers. There was
a second story overlooking Mission Control which held most of the
non-combative staff, which meant their chances of surviving were
somewhat higher. Privately, Herman was concerned that they'd get
spooked and might hit some of the soldiers below them.
Peter did seem a little shaken now, and Herman suspected it had
something to do with the odd sensation he'd felt a few minutes
earlier. Several of the soldiers and staff had fallen to the ground, one
had even tried to attack Bradford who'd then subdued him with a
sharp crack to the head with the butt of his rifle. A psionic attack for
sure, but one that seemed to be gone now.
Peter was pacing slowly behind the hologlobe as they waited, his
right arm engulfed in psionic energy as he doubtless was preparing
to utilize it. And if he was preparing now, Endre was right. They were
close.
A loud shout sounded from every person in the room, nearly shaking
it themselves with its intensity. Several shouts were accompanied by
a fist pump or extended salute. Herman simply nodded in approval.
Not the best speech Peter had ever given, but it was good enough
and set the tone while reminding them what they were fighting for.
Then it happened. The doors blew open and several mutons came
charging through. Green ones wielding their normal plasma rifles
who wasted no time beginning to aim. "Fire!" Peter shouted,
thrusting his hand forward, and a shimmering purple field appeared
in front of the mutons, preventing them moving forward.
All six were instantly annihilated by the barrage of laser, pulse and
gauss fire from everyone in the room. But that was only the
beginning. More mutons charged through, now accompanied by
several mechtoids which were shimmering with psionic shielding
from other sectoids. Herman aimed his weapon towards one of the
mutons and fired, grinning as it fell back with several holes in its
head.
Fire from above cut one mechtoid down before it had a chance to
fire, while Duygu Nur, the MEC trooper raised his wrists and
immolated the remaining mutons as well as scorching the remaining
mechtoid. Said mechtoid was attempting to return fire, but Peter was
manipulating a shield in front of it, which absorbed the plasma while
every other soldier ripped the MEC apart.
They were floaters alright, bursting through the second floor doors
with an oddly graceful flight. But these weren't normal floaters.
They'd been enhanced. Gray masks covered their faces and every
single vulnerable point had been either covered up with armor or
removed entirely. There weren't haphazard experiments released
anymore. There were flying killing machines wielding massive
plasma rifles.
The other two were being forced to move evasively, but it opened the
door for more units to get through. Herman looked to the doors to
see more mutons coming through and this time taking positions. Up
above a couple cyberdisks were flying through, and clearly ready to
unleash hell down upon them.
Peter nodded and dropped down into cover as they began working
on the new threats. The mutons were beginning to fire on them from
their entrenched positions, and the cyberdisks were transforming into
their killing variants. One muton went down, but Vivian Li, one of the
Taiwanese soldiers fell back as several plasma bolts slammed into
her head.
The cyberdisks then opened fire, raining golden rounds down upon
the MEC which tore into the armor with a massive amount of force.
"Taking fire," he stated calmly as he raised his massive gauss
cannon. "Require assistance."
"Zerren! Take them out!" Bradford yelled, and the Turkish soldier
pulled out his rocket launcher and aimed at the two disks.
"Firing!" He yelled and the rocket shot out with a boom. The
cyberdisks seemed to realize what was happening and one
immediately withdrew into its shell while the other was blown to
pieces in a shower of shrapnel and yellow fluid. The rocketeer
whooped at that as did several other soldiers.
But the fight was far from over. More mutons were coming in, taking
even closer positions while the entrenched aliens laid down a layer
of green suppressive plasma fire. And these were the elites. Red
armored mutons that towered over their green brothers. But the good
news was that they made for much bigger targets and there were
only three of them.
"Duygu! Take out the greens!" Peter yelled, his power restored
somewhat. "I'll shield you! Everyone else focus on the elites!"
"Support, focus on the right one!" Herman heard Bradford order and
that one was immediately the target of four laser beams and
hundreds of gauss fire, forcing it to a knee by the sheer force of the
attack.
Herman focused his fire on the head of one of the elites, the beast
roaring as it became the target of so much firepower. It lowered its
weapon and spat out green plasma, shredding the cover of Jae Man-
Tu, one of the new South Koreans. He tried getting into more cover
but a green bolt clipped his leg and the moment he went down, was
annihilated by more barrages of plasma fire.
The elite that Bradford's team was focused on was now dead and
lying in a pool of red and yellow. The one Herman was focusing on
was bleeding profusely, but not quite dead yet. The final one was
engaged in a melee with Duygu and seeming to lose. Strong the
muton might be, but even it was small compared to the being of
steel.
Two shots from Duygu's weapon blew holes in the muton, and it's
strength didn't match either. Duygu jammed a metal fist forward,
slamming it into the faceplate of the muton which stumbled back,
while he raised the other fist and unleashed a sustained gout of blue
flame at the muton which shrieked in utter agony as it melted from
within.
The remaining muton was also dead thanks to the combined fire
from Bradford's team, and they were now focusing on the remaining
cyberdisk which had opened back up and was aiming at the second
level. Its barrels hissed as it spat golden projectiles, and Herman
heard several more screams from above.
"Seok! Sierra! Take that out!" Peter shouted and the three soldiers in
question raised their pulse weapons and fired sustained beams into
the cyberdisk, the red beams drilling through the metal in seconds.
The cyberdisk immediately tried once more to turtle up, but it was too
late and in the middle of the conversion, it exploded.
"More coming!" Ariel yelled and Herman swung his weapon back to
see some new kind of enemy charging through. Actually, specifically
at Duygu. They were mutons, at least from what he could tell from
the armor. But these were the same size as the elites, and instead of
wielding plasma rifles, they had two serrated and curved blades
attached to their wrists.
Two were charging at Duygu, while the remaining three charged into
the line of soldiers, shaking off the barrages of laser and gauss fire
like they couldn't feel it. Each hit resulted in a roar, but that only
seemed to make these aliens angrier. One cornered a terrified Perrie
Tarot, and quickly impaled him in the head with the blades, though
that allowed them to execute the muton quickly.
"Suppressive fire!" Peter roared and with a rallying cry, all of them
focused on the new line of mutons, forcing them deep into cover
once again. Herman's chest eased a bit as they kept it up. They still
had the numbers advantage here, and with the berserkers dead, it
seemed like that might be the worst of it. They still had to assault
other parts, and even if the elites were difficult, it could be done.
"Shoot it down!" Peter roared, his body flaring again with purple light
and Herman felt the pain recede and raised his rifle at the Ethereal.
Two more hands extended as every single person forgot the mutons
and focused on the Ethereal. Lasers were turned away and bullets
missed while the Ethereal weathered the storm of death. Purple
energy flared around its lower arms and a maelstrom of energy
appeared on the floor by Peter, tearing Aindreas, Cai and Golan
apart. Peter managed to survive by sheathing himself in a purple
shield.
But now the pain was back. Terrible pain that made him not think
clearly. He just wanted the pain to stop and there was only one way
to do it. He stood, and shuffled forward, not sure why he was moving
forward, nor why the mutons weren't shooting at him. The world was
fading away, slowly engulfed by the pain and need to do something .
Peter was shouting something, raising his hands once more towards
the Ethereal.
He raised his own rifle towards the General's head and fired at point-
blank range. Peter fell forward, dead instantly. Yet the pain was still
there, and the sheer enormity of it caused him to fall to the ground,
wondering what he'd done to deserve it. Why wouldn't the pain stop?
Was it all a lie?
His vision becoming blurry, just above him he could see one of the
elites above him lower his rifle towards his face and smiled. Ah, so
this is what it meant.
The good part about defending the Hangar was that there was one
clear line of attack. The opening at the top allowing aircraft to arrive
and deport. The Commander had set up the soldiers in such a way
that if needed, they would be able to retreat further into the Citadel,
as well as moved the skyrangers out of the line of fire. Directly
underneath the opening was no cover whatsoever. It would be
instant death for the first few waves that came down.
He had just over twenty soldiers and two MECs. Enough to defend
this place.
Thanks to Iosif and with a bit of his own help, that brief psionic attack
hadn't lasted too long and everyone had been more or less
protected.
Another boom shook the ceiling. "XCOM is the first and last line of
defense," he continued as he watched the hatch bend slightly.
"Today we are the last. If we fall today, the world will soon follow. But
I know we won't fail. XCOM has faced the worst the aliens have to
offer and we've survived. They have nothing more to threaten us
with!"
The hatch blew open with a bright explosion, scraps of metal falling
onto the floor with a loud clang. Six floaters flew in, and these ones
were much more armored than the previous iterations. Likely the
perfected design. But the air was instantly lit up with bright red and
green beams of destruction with gauss fire mixed into it.
Two of the floaters were instantly taken out by pulse weaponry, and
the others were forced into evasive maneuvers while attempting to
navigate the deadly minefield of gauss and laser fire. One swerved
close to the line attempting a strafing run and the Commander
seized the opportunity and reached out, gathering his psionic power
and caught the floater in mid-air.
It almost physically yanked him forward, but the catch was enough to
allow Finn and Abel, two of the new soldiers to quickly tear it apart.
"Outsiders!" Shun shouted and the Commander looked forward to
see four of the outsiders jumping into the ground, as well as one of
the massive outsiders wielding a deadly plasma cannon. Well,
hopefully they could actually kill it this time.
The other outsiders began ducking and weaving, shooting off their
own plasma shots, but without much success. The outsider leader
was unperturbed by the hail of fire and began laying down a barrage
of green fire towards the line of XCOM soldiers. Several ducked and
there were several close calls, but no casualties.
The lack of cover was proving to be a problem for the aliens, as two
more outsiders were ripped apart or disintegrated by combined
gauss and pulse weaponry. Another outsider fell from the sky while
the Commander once more gathered his power and directed it
around the outsider leaders, and had it rise up, his hand raised in the
direction of the being.
Now more aliens were literally dropping in. More outsiders and some
new kind of muton, also in red armor, but with blades attached to the
gauntlets. The outsider leader looked around in confusion, while the
Commander slowly applied pressure to it, slowly clenching his hand
into a fist. He had no aspirations of killing the outsider, but the
weapon… that could be destroyed.
The final floater fell from the sky, although that was only a brief
respite as six more flew in, requiring a portion of the fire to be
redirected towards the aerial threat. The weapon the outsider leader
was holding began sparking as the pressure the Commander applied
crushed the metal and delicate components within.
It exploded and he let the outsider drop, the being sparking and
cracked, though it would heal itself within a few seconds. The
outsiders still weren't having much success, still unable to weather
the storm of pulse and gauss for enough time to get to anywhere
safe.
She leapt back a few feet as a couple mechtoids fell in, and began
training their own weapons on her. The melee mutons were also
having more success weathering the attacks from the XCOM
soldiers, only screaming and roaring as metal and fire burned into
them, the pain only seeming to make them angrier.
But they were getting too close for comfort. "Amahle! Take out the
chargers!" He ordered. The woman in the Marauder suit stormed
towards the charging mutons, raising her firsts and engulfed the line
in a storm of blue and orange flame.
"Firing barrage!" Sanya also stated from his Ballista MEC suit. A
wrist packed with missiles rose and unleashed a barrage on the
tripod of mechtoids. They tried scattering, but Carmelita had
distracted them enough that they couldn't move until it was too late.
Samuel whooped as the mechtoids fell to the ground in a mixture of
melting metal and flesh.
Carmelita had long since jumped back into the line of soldiers and
was firing continuous barrages at the encroaching line. One of the
soldiers yelled and the Commander looked over to see Colanar
Sanger, one of the newer soldiers fall back with his head gone. Now
the sheer force of the alien pod was making it difficult for retaliatory
fire which meant it was time for a few strategy.
The outsiders were first, followed by the elites and finally the
mechtoids. Outsiders wouldn't be a problem as long as there were
clear shots. "Iosif! Amahle! Flame them!"
"Affirmative," Amahle confirmed beginning to move into the thick of
the fighting.
"You're protected!" Iosif told her, as a thin purple field appeared over
her. "Go now! It won't last!"
"Killing them with fire!" She stated and cones of flame engulfed the
pod, breaking their discipline and forcing them to scatter.
"They're still coming!" Yeva shouted while she fired at another elite.
All the floaters had been dealt with, the elites were dead or dying,
and both Sanya and Amahle were engaging the mechtoids at close
range, leveling burst of flame and simple punches at the smaller
machines.
Behind the pod of mechtoids were some new aliens he hadn't seen
before. It appeared to be in an armored suit of some kind, the helmet
nothing more than clouded green transparent material. They were
smaller than the mechtoids, but were more bulky and wielded some
variant of plasma weapons which were attached to some container
on its back.
There were four in total, and all of them aimed upwards and fired
green… blobs?
Amahle fired another burst of flame towards the aliens, but unlike the
previous ones, it didn't seem to affect them at all and instead they
raised their wrists and shot a burst of green gas at her which
immediately began eating through her armor as soon as it made
contact, forcing her to step back. Sanya took the hint and also
dropped back, firing a small missile in return.
Amazingly the alien was able to take the full blast, though the impact
forced it to one knee, but the others kept approaching, firing green
lances of plasma. A kind that seemed to tear through weak cover.
Calebe shouted as one of the beams tore into his arm, falling to the
ground. While Blake rushed to help him, the Commander focused on
the aliens.
Except that the suit began moving and raised a gauntleted fist.
"Behind you!" The Commander shouted, frantically reaching forward
and telekinetically holding up the alien gauntlet that would slammed
into her. She spun around and leapt back as it swung at her with its
weapon. It took her a second to adjust, but to rectify it she reached
for her belt and pulled out a grenade and tossed it into the suit and
leapt back.
The body inside was ripped to nothing, and that did seem to do the
trick. The suit fell to the ground a few seconds, sparking and leaking
yellow and green fluid. The soldiers were also figuring out ways to
deal with these new aliens. Several were focusing pulse weapons at
the legs, cutting them off to halt their progress. Sanya and Amahle
were flanking them as well, targeting the tanks on their back,
splattering them with the acid, which at least prevented them from
using it against them.
Another alien fell to the ground, sparking as the suit gave out while
another's helmet got blown off. Sanya fired several more missiles at
the downed alien for good measure, and the rest of them focused on
filling the remaining two aliens with metal and lasers. Once a
sufficient amount of time had been devoted to that, the Commander
raised a fist and silence filled the room.
The moment of adrenaline fading, the Commander surveyed the
room. The Hangar was splattered with alien blood and corpses, with
only two casualties and one injury of their own. A good start if he said
so himself. "That couldn't have been the last of them." Nartha said,
walking up. "They wouldn't give up like this."
The Commander agreed, but there was actually a good reason for
that. "They know they can't win here. So they'll either attack a
different part or want us to come to them."
The pilot had taken a rear position, but had survived and seemed
very eager. "Yes, Commander?"
He appraised the hole. "The aliens were clean with the explosion…
so I think that could work."
"Status?" He demanded.
Damn it. So that was where it was. "Copy, I'll come to reinforce there
as well." He switched to Patricia's frequency. "Patricia?"
"Take what soldiers we have left and take the UFO," he ordered. "I'll
be leading a team to reinforce Patricia."
He nodded and with the soldiers behind him, charged into the
Citadel to reinforce Patricia and slow the alien advancement.
A fact that many of the aliens here had learned the hard way.
She'd only lost one so far to sustained outsider attack, Han. There
had unfortunately been little she could have done to stop that, but it
still felt like a failure. But the rest of the room was filled with dead or
dying aliens. She'd figured out quickly that the elites were resistant
to mind control, even if she could break through eventually.
It wasn't possible at all on the outsiders, but that was something she
had suspected to begin with, which oddly enough made them the
most dangerous of all the enemies here. The aliens had started
small at first, sending in mutons, the enhanced floaters and only now
had they begun sending more heavy forces.
Their minds were so simple now it only took seconds to break into
them and plant a few simple commands. Kill the machines. Then
each other. Their eyes became glazed and they immediately aimed
upwards towards the cyberdisks. Several of them transformed into
their attack modes and began firing on her soldiers, while two
focused on the controlled mutons.
Creed, Latrell and Myra also took another one down a few seconds
later, getting the attention of the other open cyberdisk, which rained
down more fire, steam rising from its cannons as it forced them back
into cover. Patricia felt several more aliens approaching, and looked
up to see about six more of those suited aliens coming through.
But she could work with that. She focused around the alien minds,
ones that seemed more methodical than mutons, yet not devoid of
emotion like the sectoids. What she'd really imagine beings hooked
up to cybernetics would be. All she had to do was imprint her will on
them like she had with the others. Attack your allies .
The encroaching aliens paused once she sent the command, then a
few seconds later began firing up, down, wherever there was an
alien. Anywhere but at XCOM. One of the aliens raised its wrist and
sprayed a mist of acid at one of the cyberdisks which instantly
corroded the material. Before the cyberdisk could move, she and
Veronika added to the mix and shot it out of the sky.
The alien charged blindly, shrugging off the plasma fire and
slamming it's spiked gauntlets repeatedly into the green helmet of
the alien. Even when the other one sprayed it with mist, it didn't
seem to slow it down and only punched harder until the glass
cracked with a burst of air and glass. The muton roared and charged
forward while the suited alien had to start dealing with the AI
controlled suit.
"Orvil, get back!" She called as she watched the muton charge his
position. "Creed! Franklin! Kill it!"
MEC and soldier turned to the charging alien while Orvil stumbled
back, clearly surprised by the ferocity of the attack. Patricia focused
on impressing slow into its brain but it was too blinded by pain and
rage to pay any remote attention to her suggestions. Creed missed
his shot, but Franklin scored one on its leg and with a last leap it
lunged toward Orvil and tackled him to the ground.
The energy only swelled further as Patricia connected to her, let her
draw off her own strength and she watched as bit by bit, the aliens
were ripped apart with no subtlety or grace. Once the storm finally
died, only pieces remained. At that point two mechtoids charged in,
took a look around, and that was all she needed to get inside their
empty minds.
They all shouted an affirmative and they all rushed back to join the
bulk of the soldiers. It also seemed that Zhang had joined the fray
with some of his agents. "Director," she greeted, walking up. "Glad
you're still alive."
Even under attack by aliens, he sounded unimpressed, even through
his Aegis armor. "The same could be said for you, Psion. What is the
situation?"
"And they will," Zhang promised grimly. "The Ethereal just took
Mission Control. Bradford and Van Doorn are dead."
"Yeah, I got that," Patricia nodded, tapping her helmet. "He's on his
way too."
One nod. "Yes. The aliens will also likely attack the labs and
Engineering Bay along the way. That should buy us more time to
prepare."
"I don't think so," Patricia said slowly, shaking her head. "I think he'll
come to me as soon as possible."
She reached out and quickly located the Ethereal coming towards
her. Unmistakable. She sensed nothing beyond duty, resolve and
pain. He was coming to kill her and end their war once and for all.
There would be no prisoners taken in this attack.
"He's coming here," she repeated dreamily. "He's coming to kill me."
"Hey." She felt a hand on her shoulder and reached back to grasp
Creed's hand. "We've beat him before," he promised. "We'll win
again."
"We will," Zhang stated with a cold confidence. "I've faced beings like
him. Ones who believe power makes them invincible. They often
overestimate their power and we proved it once, and today we shall
prove it decisively."
She understood where Zhang was coming from, but this Ethereal
wasn't like an overconfident general. He had no bravado. No
overconfidence. Why should he bother with either when he knew that
he had incredible power? If anything, she was concerned that they
were underestimating him.
But all they could do was prepare. And she did had a good idea of
where the Ethereal would attack from.
"Warn Shen and Vahlen they'll likely have company," she ordered
Creed, before turning back to Zhang. "Anything else?"
"The United States is sending air and ground support to the Citadel,"
Zhang confirmed. "Most will likely die, but they might be useful in
clearing the aliens out and supporting the attack on the UFO."
Patricia pursed her lips. "Then let's hope that the Ethereal was the
only powerful psion here."
She could hear the frown in Zhang's voice. "Can you not sense
another?"
Zhang seemed satisfied with that, and they stood there for a few
minutes, looking at the carnage ahead. "How many do you think they
have?"
"Several hundred or a thousand?" Patricia sighed. "I don't think it
really matters. Unless the Ethereal is killed, the others are just
distractions."
"Then focus on that," Zhang said, raising his weapon. "The rest of us
will deal with the distractions."
No, the main cause of his discomfort was the unholy chryssalid in
front of him. Not just one, either. Six .
Fakhr had almost blown up the labs when she'd seen the beasts
around Vahlen and her team, who'd been frantically putting on armor
and grabbing odd-looking weapons and grenades. Had Vahlen not
come storming over demanding she put the weapon down, he'd
have never figured out these were 'friendly' chryssalids.
Jamali pursed his lips as he looked at the scientists. Their armor was
barely better than typical ISOF gear from Iraq, and he knew that it
wouldn't last under any kind of alien weapon fire. To make up for it
they seemed to have an array of creative weapons he could only
guess at. Only Vahlen was appropriately armored with the Aegis
armor and helmet, which was colored a pure white. Not like he'd
really expected anything else.
The room suddenly shook, and all of them looked up. Jamali
clenched his gauss rifle a little tighter. He really hated not knowing
what was going on. "Mission Control has fallen," Vahlen finally said,
drawing every eye on her. "The Commander has warned that the
aliens are coming our way. Prepare yourselves."
There had been a brief debate over which soldier was in charge, but
since they were all special forces of one kind or another, it really
didn't matter, experience-wise. Fakhr had seen the most action, so
she was the official Squad Overseer, though Jamali had a feeling
that Vahlen wouldn't comply if she felt her ideas were better.
Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.
"So we still hold the Hangar and Supply Halls?" Ralph asked from
the front. "Patricia and the Commander are alive?"
Jamali didn't need to be a psion to feel the mood in the room turn…
concerned at the very least. His ears perked up as the sound of
heavy footsteps echoed down the hallways. "They're coming!"
Lesedi called, raising her rifle.
Everyone complied except Vahlen who stood straight, the air around
her shimmering. "Dr. Vahlen?" Jamali asked. "You should probably
get into cover."
She looked down at him dispassionately. "In time, but I want to see
how they work."
He rolled his eyes at that, wondering if she realized that she could do
the same from cover . That was not going to make his job easier,
and if she died because of that he didn't envy the person who told
the Commander his girlfriend had died due to her own stupidity.
The two chryssalids attacking the elite were whittling it down bit by
bit, their nimble bodies making it difficult to land shots and one had
attached itself to its back and was furiously stabbing into the muton
with glee. Two chryssalids suddenly came charging back, followed
by plasma fire which was revealed to be from two outsiders.
He tried rushing back but both elites saw him and not even the Aegis
armor could protect him from that much damage. Several of the
scientists threw some flash-bangs towards the elites, but that didn't
seem to do much for them. But the chryssalids were at least
distracting them. One chryssalid was chewing on the hand of an elite
while the rest were jabbing their razor-sharp claws into the other.
Two more green mutons came in and initially focused their weapons
on the soldiers, before a blank look came over them, and instead
they raised their weapons towards the elites and fired. The plasma
was a lot more effective than claws, it turned out, and the surgical
strike against the face killed it relatively quickly and they moved on to
the next one.
Another similar muton also joined the fray, and with no chryssalids to
distract it, charged the XCOM line. They all fired at once and the fire
seemed to slow initially, but it fixated on Fakhr and leaped at her,
stabbing downward. She leapt back just in time, but not quick
enough to dodge another bladed arm stab into her side.
She screamed as it raised another fist to finish her off, which it froze.
"Kill it!" Vahlen screamed. "I can't hold it forever!"
Every rifle turned on the alien and the combined force turned its
head into dented metal and misshapen tan flesh. It felt back, pulling
the blades in Fakhr's side with it. Jamali dashed forward, med-kit in
hand as the chryssalids dealt with the last melee muton. He wasn't a
doctor, but it didn't look like an artery or something had been hit
since the amount of blood coming out wasn't life-threatening.
"Hold still," he told her, spraying on the wound. "You'll be fine." She
groaned as the mist hit her exposed flesh but eventually nodded in
confirmation that she was fine. He let out a breath and helped
position her against an overturned table facing away from the
fighting.
Jamali returned to the situation at hand, and saw a lot of dead aliens,
blood-soaked chryssalids and one dead XCOM soldier. But no more
aliens. He let out a sigh. That could have been a lot worse. Perhaps
weaponized chryssalids wasn't as idiotic as he'd assumed.
There was silence for a few moments while they reloaded and
checked themselves. "I don't sense any more nearby," Vahlen finally
said, stepping forward. "They probably don't want to send more
down here."
"Which means they're attacking somewhere else," Lesedi pointed
out. "I doubt that was the last of them."
She must have disabled her vocoder since it was a couple minutes
before she spoke again. "We're to reinforce Patricia now. Move out,"
she turned to her staff. "Hold this position. I doubt they'll be back, but
do whatever you have to."
"I'll stay here," Fakhr groaned, rising. "I'll only be a hindrance out
there. You need healthy soldiers."
But the aliens coming wouldn't pose a problem. A few planted orders
in the minds of the floaters and suited aliens and they were suddenly
fighting each other yet again, while the XCOM soldiers mowed them
down with pulse and gauss fire.
"Creed…" she said slowly. "Hold off the others. We'll handle the
Ethereal."
She felt his anxiety, but he understood. He would direct half the
soldiers towards pushing back the alien reinforcements while the rest
of them fought the Ethereal. "Understood, Overseer."
Annette yelled and drew her right arm back, it encased in purple
energy and thrust forward, a beam of purple light jutting out of her
hand. With surprising speed the Ethereal stepped to the side and
responded by withdrawing its two lower arms and yanking
backwards. Garen and Renato were pulled towards the Ethereal and
slammed onto the ground in front of it.
"Foolish child," it said as it withdrew its lower arms within its robe
and directed the extended one towards her. "You cannot hurt me."
Annette was suddenly lifted up and thrown across the room,
slamming into the far wall with a clang.
Patricia really hoped Creed was keeping the other aliens back,
because all of them were completely exposed. "You use the tactics
of an amateur, Psion," he hissed, withdrawing an arm in the direction
of the flanking Veronika. She gasped and was lifted up, clutching her
throat. "You know we do not sense the ordinary world like the
unawakened. We feel it. We feel mind. That cannot vanish no matter
what sounds you make my physical body hear." He twisted his wrist
and Veronika's head snapped completely around with an audible
crack and her body fell limp to the ground.
Why did she think that would work? She wasn't dealing with Iosif or
Annette, she was dealing with a being who'd mastered this over
decades . Centuries even. Nevertheless she gritted her teeth and
began a renewed attack on his mind, pressing incessantly as the
living soldiers kept shooting. He groaned as Myra scored a hit and
responded by gathering energy in his hands and thrusting out.
The wave hit Myra and tore off a few vital systems and stripped a
thin layer off. Otherwise she appeared fine and responded by firing
another barrage of lead at him. At the same time the Ethereal
gathered up another ball of energy and sent the result towards her,
Leonid and Latrell which she and Latrell managed to get away from.
This was getting very, very bad. She renewed her own mental attack,
channeling the rage she felt from the deaths of her soldiers into
strength.
Myra charged forward and lowered her wrists towards the Ethereal
and the being was then engulfed in flame, only eliciting another
otherworldly shriek from the Ethereal as it held all of his arms out in
an attempt to staunch the agony. If anything that only made Annette
more powerful, and she took another step towards the alien as did
Myra.
But then something changed. She noticed that now the energy
wasn't hitting the Ethereal. But wrapping around it. As if-
Too late.
The Ethereal suddenly thrust all his arms forward and sent a
cracking wave of energy towards Myra which instantly tore her to
pieces. It literally ripped the MEC suit into tiny pieces, nearly
vaporizing her completely. Only ensuring that Myra was gone.
That disrupted Annette's focus and the maelstrom faded for one
second and then it was over. For the first time Patricia got a good
look at the Ethereal without the robe. Underneath the robe was some
kind of gray bodysuit of some kind that ran the length of his body to
his feet. It was probably resistant to all kinds of hazards if it managed
to survive through that barrage. The arms were spindly and the body
seemed unnaturally thin.
"You trained them well," he hissed. "But the students can only be as
good as the master, and you, psion Trask, are no master."
Her vision turned purple as she focused everything she had on the
Ethereal and noticed something interesting. Something he was trying
to hide.
Vulnerable. She pushed that thought while she stalled. Even after
this they could still win. They just needed the Commander to come
help. "This isn't over yet," she growled, taking a step forward. "You
won't win."
All the machinery had been surgically destroyed and had been
rearranged into one of the most defendable locations Abby had seen
in the Citadel. Each choke point was manned by at least two
engineering staff, operating either a portable turret or flamethrower.
Scattered through the defended area were also some kind of small
automated turret that hovered a few feet off the ground.
She hadn't been aware stuff like that had even been discussed, let
alone put into production. Though Shen had said it was
experimental, so there was that. She was near the back of the line,
intending to use her pulse rifle as a sniping weapons of sorts thanks
to her enhanced eyesight. Near the front were the rest of the
soldiers.
The two North Koreans, Areum and Chan were in the second line of
cover while Gyeong and Timur were up front. Thais, the Brazilian
soldier was a bit off to the side, but all of them were ready and
waiting for the attack. If Mission Control had fallen, then they would
be here soon.
She hoped Zhang was alright, especially since the Ethereal was
likely headed for Patricia.
"So it begins," Shen said softly from the back. The elderly engineer
was in a suit of Aegis armor, which was admittedly an odd sight for
her. The helmet helped a bit, but it couldn't disguise the fact that the
suit was made for a soldier and not an elderly person. He was still
going to help, but she didn't expect his contributions to be great. This
was not his area of expertise.
She really hoped Lily was somewhere safe. Shen had assured her
his daughter was hidden, and there were plenty of places for a kid to
hide in a place like the Citadel. Removing all thoughts of Lily, Abby
returned to focusing on the oncoming attack.
Until it was shattered by the door being blown apart. Green plasma
fire spat out from the smoke towards the line of soldiers who
immediately began returning fire. The two automated flame turrets
Shen had set up near the door began spitting out thin bursts of flame
and Abby heard roars of pain as they effectively secured the first
choke point.
Timur tossed a grenade into the area and another squeal reached
her ears as the grenade found a victim. The rest of the soldiers were
all firing into the smoke, even if they couldn't see anything, they were
still hitting things. Finally a massive muton elite burst through, blood
already leaking from wounds and holes in the once-pristine armor.
It immediately swatted down the flaming turrets with ease and began
focusing laying down suppressive fire on the initial line, forcing
Gyeong and Timur to get down. Her turn. She aimed at the knee of
the elite and fired a sustained beam from her pulse rifle. The drilling
took a few seconds, but the muton finally collapsed to the ground as
the knee was effectively gone. Gyeong rolled a grenade by its head
and even the armor couldn't protect it under that strain.
Abby aimed at the farthest one, and fired at its head. The beam
immediately began drilling and shattered the head a few seconds
later as the outsider failed to react in time to the beam. They
apparently weren't acquainted with pulse weaponry yet. Thais and
Areum targeted the second one while the rest focus-fired the final
one until it was disintegrating into nothing.
But of course that wasn't the end. Two more elites walked through,
already firing and in the middle was one of the outsider leaders, who
stood almost as tall as the behemoth mutons themselves. As it
began laying down suppressive fire from its own cannon, one of the
elites pulled out a grenade and tossed it towards the front line.
One nearly blasted the leg of an elite off, while both hit the outsider.
Abby saw her chance and aimed again at its head while the others
focused on the elites. It was still taking a few seconds, but eventually
her laser drilled a hole straight through its head and it fell to the
ground, dissolving like paper in flame.
Without waiting for a response she then dashed over to Timur, taking
a second to fire a brief pulse blast at the remaining muton before
ducking down again to focus on Timur. She bit her lip as she saw the
damage. Yeah, his leg was bent and warped at such an angle that
she was skeptical that it could be fixed. The med-kit would stave off
any potential death, but it would need a proper surgery to really
assess the damage. "Don't move your leg," she warned while she
sprayed the blue mist on it. "It's in bad enough shape as it is."
Doc . Been awhile since she'd been called that. Well for better or
worse she was on the front line and felt she should stay here until it
ended one way or another. It felt like the old days of being on the
front lines, before intelligence work had made her life so
complicated. She took her position and her heart sank as another
muton elite, and some new suited alien joined the mix.
She quickly looked back. Four soldiers not including her left, as well
as the engineering staff, though they were mostly providing
supporting fire and nothing substantial. She was worried that
wouldn't be enough. But she still aimed and fired her weapon at the
wounded muton, which simply roared and unleashed a barrage of
plasma at her, which flew over her head, but directly towards
Areum's position.
It only took one hit and she stumbled back. But now the other elite
had noticed her and added its fire to the other one, while the suited
alien also fired a lance of green plasma at her. The Aegis armor was
good, but even it couldn't hold against the sustained fire of two elites
and… whatever this thing was. Abby knew the moment her body hit
the floor that she was dead and there was nothing she could do.
Three soldiers. They might not actually make it out of this one.
She raised her pulse rifle and fired yet another sustained beam on
the elite which then focused its massive weapon on her. She gritted
her teeth as green plasma flew around her. No. She was going to kill
this thing.
Her perseverance paid off and the muton roared, stumbling back as
it clutched its chest. And then something strange happened. The
suited alien suddenly raised a fist at the other elite that was targeting
Chan and Thais, and shot out a green mist. It must have been an
acid of some kind since the armor immediately began corroding,
adding to the alien screaming in pain.
"Focus on the wounded one!" Thais yelled, firing her gauss weapon
on the one Abby had been whittling down. Abby agreed and added
her pulse weapon to the barrage. She'd focus on the strange turn of
events later. Big the elites were, but fast or graceful they were not
and thus it soon succumbed to the combined firepower of four
soldiers and an unknown number of engineers.
The remaining elite had unloaded its plasma weapon into the green
transparent helmet of the new alien. The material burst with a hiss
and out slumped a strange brown-skinned alien that looked like it
was in the process of burning. That was odd, could it-
The suit stood up and aimed its weapon at the soldiers again. Alright,
change of plans. Then she heard it. The roar of chryssalids. She felt
sick, knowing that they didn't really have much of a chance now. Not
with both a surviving elite and a robot suit.
Armor still steaming from the acid mist, the elite began firing again
and she fired her pulse weapon up, hoping the integrity of the armor
had been weakened. Then out came the chryssalids, even bigger
than she remembered. But they didn't charge her. They charged the
muton and began biting and stabbing it.
It fired a few more plasma lances in the direction, but it gave her
enough time to toss a grenade of her own. Probably in the interior
would be the best. She stood and threw, and watched elatedly as it
landed directly in the control area of the suit and exploded. Whatever
it did, it worked apparently and the suit fell to the ground, sparking
and dead.
The yellow coated chryssalids roared and chittered as they ate the
elite which had stopped moving. Abby still had her weapon trained
on them, wondering how long it would take them to turn hostile.
"Don't shoot them!" She looked up to see Vahlen and several other
soldiers coming towards her.
"Got it," Abby nodded, waving the surviving soldiers forward. "Are
there any more?"
"Not that I can sense," Vahlen said. "It's all by the Supply Halls and
up above. Carmelita is leading an attack on the UFO that landed."
Was she now? Well that would explain why the attack wasn't as
strong as it could have been. "Then we should head there now,
especially if an Ethereal is close."
"Agreed," Vahlen nodded. "Take what soldiers you have and let's
go."
Abby almost snorted. It seemed Vahlen didn't realize she wasn't the
one in charge. "I'll stay and protect them," Chan said. "Take Thais."
Well there wasn't much of a choice. Vahlen's team now had a grand
two extra soldiers to help bolster its forces. "Lead the way," she told
Vahlen. "Let's finish this."
"I'm not sure of this," Nartha said slowly as he stood in the front of
the skyranger ramp, Iosif in front of him and Shun to his side. Blake,
Carmelita, Iida, Jerra and Apis behind him. Nartha was fully
expecting an ambush on the surface which admittedly was what Iosif
was there for.
" Taking off now," Big Sky informed. "Be ready Iosif."
"Will do," the Russian psion confirmed, the air around him already
distorted.
Nartha felt the skyranger life slowly, and resisted the urge to look
down and see how high up they were rising. But the transition up
was surprisingly painless and all of them were greeted by the sight of
snow, alien barricades and the UFO transport in the distance. A
small rectangular purple shield appeared in front of them as the
skyranger hovered over solid ground.
Nartha quickly took stock of the situation. All the barricades were
taken by the smaller mutons, and in between most of them was a
mechtoid or cyberdisk. Two of each in total. Doable. Plasma fire
went flew in their direction, but most missed or was absorbed by
Iosif's barricades.
"Deploy!" He yelled and they charged out into the snow and through
the storm of green. They spread out, Nartha already taking aim at
one of the mutons and fired. The beam hit the face squarely and it
fell back. One down.
"Suppressive fire!" Iida called, falling to one knee and targeting the
mechtoid which was aiming at Carmelita. It worked and the nimble
woman slid into cover, blasting the two mutons to pulpy flesh with
her alloy cannon before turning to the bigger threats.
Nartha and Shun also took cover behind the alien barricade and
began focusing one of the cyberdisks which was returning fire with
mechanical ease. Carmelita was also being pinned down by one of
the mechtoids and more mutons were rushing out. No elites though,
Nartha noted, which either meant they'd run out, or they were
holding them in reserve.
But that opened up the mechtoid to an attack by Jerra and he, which
both of them took which added a few new holes and scorches to the
gray armor. "Reinforcements are here," the voice of Gray Sky said,
and Nartha glanced behind him to see two MECs charging their
position. A sight for sore eyes.
" Reinforcements have arrived," Big Sky stated as the second wave
of XCOM soldiers hit the field. Nartha grinned at that. The tables had
turned in their favor quite dramatically.
"Advance!" Iida yelled, waving her arm forward and all of the shouted
an affirmative and charged up towards the next line of barriers. The
cyberdisks had retreated to the mouth of the UFO and had
redeployed and were raining fire on the MECs once more. The eight
or so mutons were also aiming at the front line, namely him .
But even still, the sight of a line of mutons being cooked in their own
armor was beautiful, even more so when one of the cyberdisks was
soon blown out of the sky by a friendly rocket from their
reinforcements. That left….one cyberdisk and one mechtoid. All the
mutons were dead or dying and with all the XCOM soldiers focusing
on the cyberdisk, it soon went down in pieces of scrap.
Sanya charged the final mechtoid and slammed the wounded alien
to the ground, pinning it with his foot, while raising the other one over
its face and stamping down hard. It took a few tries, but the
mechtoid's face was soon reduced to pulp in the snow.
A relative silence fell over the battlefield, save for the whistling wind.
"They'll still have a guard," Nartha said. "But it won't be a large one."
Carmelita swung her head to him. "I don't recall asking for your
opinion."
"Hey, he knows the ships better than you," Shun defended walking
up.
Alright. He could work with this. "It's a troop transport for sure," he
explained, pointing to the line of poles and straps. "See those? They
strap mutons to them during the flight since they don't get exhausted
standing up. Saves space, and has plenty of room for more forces.
I'm guessing the majority of outsiders came from the Raider UFOs
since they don't number many on large ships like this."
"Your right!" Mavern called suddenly and they swung their weapons
to two regular mutons together with a mechtoid. They quickly took up
positions along the walls as the aliens began shooting plasma at
them. The Commander scowled as the deadly projectiles flew past
his head. They didn't have time for this.
Samuel focused his fire now at one of the mutons which withered
under the onslaught and fell back, leaking yellow fluid from many
holes in its body. With one remaining, the Commander wanted to try
something. He gathered his power once more and focused the
energy around the muton, direction the pressure specifically around
its neck.
But he didn't have time to experiment with this. He closed his hand
into a fist, Crushing the windpipe, and essentially the entire neck, all
at once and turned to let the muton die while experiencing utter
agony for the last few moments of it's life.
He let the power fade away and rushed back to Jona who was
propped against the wall. "Can you walk?" He asked.
His assertion proved true as he sensed her stop, even if she wasn't
telepathically communicating, he knew exactly where she was now.
Only a few steps forward…
Vahlen and Abby, surprisingly, came running up. It was almost the
inverse of what he'd been expecting from them. Vahlen was in the
armor while Abby was not. "What do you mean they're friendly ?"
Yaseen asked incredulously.
"Even better than I'd hoped," Vahlen confirmed with a bit too much
excitement. "The chryssalids are-"
The UFO hummed quietly as the soldiers made their way through
the desolate ship. Nartha knew it was the elerium cores that gave
the impression that the ship was 'pulsing' but he could attest to the
fact that it was disconcerting. Most of the soldiers were in the
deployment bay, and were climing the two ramps on the sides to
enter the second part of the UFO.
The entrances deeper into the UFO were blocked by the multi-
colored shields, so Carmelita had set up the soldiers on respective
sides before they gave the order to go inside. She and Yeva were on
the far left entrance, he and Shun were on the far right, and Iosif and
Iida were in the middle, with more soldiers filling the nearby walls or
right behind them. The MEC troopers were also standing by, waiting
for the order to go in.
"Now," Iosif muttered and touched the shield. Nartha did the same
and it receded with a buzz to reveal a medium-sized room with
another depression in the middle. But this room wasn't empty, there
was a mix of sectoids and… Vitakara in the mix. Borelians to be
specific, which was sadly not a surprise since their fur made them
ideal for colder climates, not to mention they were excellent soldiers.
"Go! Go!" Iida shouted and the initial wave charged in, Nartha and
Shun sliding into cover behind the short barriers that overlooked the
depression. The air around them was instantly filled with plasma,
lasers and lead as the sectoids and Borelians reacted. Nartha was
once more reminded of just how poor the mutons really were at
strategy compared to a more intelligent species.
Nartha got a quick look at the numbers as more XCOM soldiers ran
into cover and began returning fire. Eight sectoids? Excluding the
ones killed in the initial attack, and roughly fourteen Borelians. He
raised his rifle and fired a quick burst on a Borelian behind a pod,
trying to get a better look at them.
All over seven feet, with incisors. Yep, all females and likely from an
elite detachment. He tried to view the insignia, but none of them
seemed particularly interested in making it visible. He sighed and
ducked back into cover. He'd known this was going to happen, but it
still felt wrong to fight his own species, even if it was for the right
reasons.
Two Borelians were cut down by XCOM pulse weapons, but they
responded by making a strategic retreat to the second upper deck
which lead to the Command pod. One threw a device towards
several of the soldiers and he instantly recognized what it was. "Cryo
grenade!" he yelled as it headed toward where Yeva and Cheng
were, then realized it didn't matter since it was the advanced variant
that emitted a freezing effect while it was being thrown before
exploding in a shower of frost.
It then had the effect of freezing them in place while trying to get
away, making them easy targets for Borelian soldiers. Yeva's head
exploded into chunks and Cheng was also ripped apart by
concentrated fire. The only good news out of this was that was
probably the only one they had, and it allowed Amahle to charge
forward into the plasma fire and execute two Borelians.
The sectoids were also trying to put up a fight, though their attacks
weren't doing much with Iosif nearby. Nartha raised his rifle, took a
brief second to aim at the bulbous head and fired. The red beam
melted a nice hole and it fell dead. A second one was taken out by
Shun.
Sanya's MEC froze in place and another smaller missile box popped
up from his shoulder and unleashed several more micro-missiles on
the entrenched position of the Borelians and sectoids. The ones who
weren't killed from the blasts were taken out by the deadly maze of
laser and gauss fire that saturated their now-exposed positions.
Amahle charge further up the line and stopped right to the side of
where the aliens were still holding position. But this time she only
raised one wrist and blasted the surviving aliens with a continuous
burst of flame, walking forward slowly and deliberately, roasting each
alien alive while sweeping her arm back and forth.
The two Borelians that ran to the opposite side were met by Sanya
who blew one of their heads off with his rifle, picked up the other
struggling one easily by the head and crushed it before throwing the
corpse to the side. The battlefield fell silent one more, except for the
crackling of fire and pulsing of the elerium cores.
Nartha reloaded and cautiously made his way down into the
depression along with several other soldiers. He stepped over the
mutilated corpses, only kneeling before one of the Borelians to look
at the patch on her arm. He pursed his lips once he saw it. What he
expected, but it was still depressing to see.
"That patch on their arm," he said, pointing. "Only the Lurainian bear
it, not to mention I'd know it anyway since I suspect all the soldiers
are female."
"A big one," Nartha confirmed, looking over the pod which he
suspected had been used to transport the muton elites. "Borelians
have strict standards, the Vitakarian Lurainian even more so. Males
generally aren't soldiers to begin with, and unless something big has
happened, male Borelians in the Lurainian are unheard of."
Nartha pointed at the pods, indicating the tubes. "I think these were
used to transport the elites. Probably for sedation or injecting them
with drugs. Though there seem to be too few to really account for the
number."
Iida was also observing one of the pods. "Hold that thought," she
said slowly, raising a hand. "You said sedation?"
"And there aren't enough for all the elites we saw," she continued.
"However…"
"What do you think?" Iosif asked, looking towards the Command pod
ahead.
Hm. The woman was smart, and that did make sense, especially due
to the limited number. "Good theory."
A hot spike of pain drove into his head, causing him to hear ringing
and he raised a hand to his helmet out of instinct. You have come far
enough, XCOM. A voice in his own language said in his mind.
A Hive Commander.
Nartha couldn't agree more and followed his charge as they ran
towards the Command pod, trying to ignore the stabbing in his brain.
They stormed through the final barriers and saw the Hive
Commander standing in front of a massive console at the end of the
UFO that stretched from end to end. The level he and the XCOM
soldiers were standing on led to another depression of consoles and
piloting equipment, while the level the Hive Commander was
standing on was just slightly elevated above that.
There were eight sectoids also in the room, all busy with tasks, but
the full attention of the Hive Commander was on them. It raised a
spindly finger towards them as they began firing.
It responded by raising another hand and surrounding itself with a
purple shield, turning the lasers away and stopping the gauss rounds
in their tracks. "It's in my, arg!" Jerra shouted, raising a shaky
weapon towards Karen who would have died if Jerra hadn't been
tackled to the ground by Iida, who subdued the struggling woman
easily. The MEC charged in, while Carmelita jumped down the
middle and began raining havoc on the unprotected sectoid pilots
who suddenly realized they were going to die and struggled
frantically to get away.
Nartha also jumped down and severed the head of a fleeing sectoid
with a brief pulse of his weapon. The Hive Commander gestured
towards Amahle and a faint wave shot out and blew her back off the
platform. No damage though, and she was back up in a few
seconds. The Hive Commander then turned its full attention to
Sanya who was firing his massive cannon at the frail creature.
It resisted, then gestured and the MEC was also blown back a few
feet and thrown off balance. It quickly turned toward the line of
soldiers and the air around it's head flared and several dropped to
the ground limply. Sleep. That was it, Hive Commanders weren't
powerful enough to kill with that little effort. But it was great at putting
enemies out of condition.
But even if couldn't hold out against the continuous amount of fire
being sent it's way from the additional soldiers rushing in to take the
place of the incapacitated. Carmelita jumped up to the second
platform where the Hive Commander stood and fired several blasts
from her alloy cannon.
Nartha also jumped up and added his own sustained weapon to the
attack. Then when it finally broke, it experienced a painful and quick
death. It's body was immolated by the flames, while a blast from
Carmelita's cannon turned it's head to mush, Sanya blew it's chest
apart with his weapon and Nartha's own laser added to Carmelita's
damage, not to mention the flurry of gauss rounds that also riddled
it's body from the XCOM line.
All of them ceased and lowered their weapons, just making sure that
Hive Commander was really dead. Nartha walked over and looked
down at the charred corpse. Yep. Really dead. "I think that's it," he
said slowly. "We did it."
Nartha didn't think she'd ever forgive him entirely, but getting that at
least meant progress, and if she felt he was reliable enough to say
that… well, it was good to hear.
"Alright! We need to sweep the rest of the UFOs for stragglers," Iosif
commanded back from the line. "But we've won! The Hive
Commander is dead!"
The soldiers cheered and whooped at that, though Nartha knew that
they hadn't won yet. They wouldn't truly win until they heard that the
Ethereal was dead. Carmelita seemed to have the same idea. "Go
reinforce Patricia," she told Amahle and Sanya. "See if you can still
help them."
They nodded and charged off. While Nartha doubted they'd arrive in
time to make a difference, sending the MECs was the best idea.
Regular soldiers would just be killed, but psions seemed to have
trouble with MECs for some reason. Anything that would help.
They may have won here, but it all rested on Patricia and the
Commander now.
It only took a few seconds after they charged into the room for the
Commander to get a full idea of the situation. Around half of
Patricia's soldiers, including Zhang, were still alive and focused on
the aliens still coming in from the surface, though that number
seemed to be dwindling. The rest were either corpses, or not
anywhere at all.
Vahlen rippled with psionic energy of her own, and raised her arm in
the direction of the Ethereal who screamed and gestured towards
the mass of soldiers. "Kill them all!" It roared as several of his
soldiers fell to a knee, clutching their helmets as the psionic
command echoed in their minds. It was weak enough that the
Commander was able to resist it, but not for the others.
Maven sleepily raised his rifle and blasted Samuel in the head at
point-blank range while Yaseen executed Lautaro with a quick shot
to the head. The remaining soldiers quickly scrambled to deal with
the mind-controlled operatives including the Commander who
stepped back and just barely missed a shot from a mind-controlled
Thais.
But he was in a bad position now and both knew it. He didn't want to
hurt her, but she had no such hesitation and kept firing. He focused
his telepathic powers on the rifle and pulled, the rifle flew out of her
hands and he extended his right arm to the side to throw it away.
Unfortunately she'd anticipated that and with her left hand reached
for her pulse pistol and fired a sustained beam up near his arm,
neatly severing the limb in one fell swoop.
Hissing in agony, he turned back to see how the rest of the fight was
progressing. The mind-controlled soldiers were dead, either from the
Ethereal or allied fire. But now everyone was focusing on the
Ethereal since there were no more aliens coming in from the tunnels.
The Ethereal gathered up more energy in his hands and thrust them
out in multiple direction. The Commander jumped over the railing
onto the lower floor to avoid one of the devastating waves. Vahlen
also ducked out of the way and the other soldiers did the same or
leapt onto the floor with him.
" No!" It roared, raising a hand and all the non-psions fell to the floor
screaming. It took everything in the Commander to not succumb to
the imaginary pain debilitating the others, but he managed it and
turned that into his own source of power. He thrust out his good hand
and directed it around the Ethereal and pushed .
It took a step back, roaring as the attacks from Patricia and Vahlen
seemingly got more intense. The remaining MEC, Franklin also
dashed over pulling his fist back in a wind-up punch and slammed
his metal fist fully into the Ethereal's damaged helm.
The cocoon of purple light around Patricia flared and Franklin was
suddenly dropped, still functional, but damaged. The Commander
kept pinning the Ethereal to the wall, making it unable to lift his
hands to assist with the retaliation. All of them kept walking forward
slowly, never letting up on their continuous assault.
But if it wasn't decided soon, they were going to run dry. He was
slowly losing his grip on the Ethereal, and the being was still trying to
disrupt his mind, albeit weakly since he was also fighting off attacks
from Vahlen and Patricia. With a scream unlike any he'd heard, the
Ethereal was suddenly enveloped in a ball of purple light,
uncontrolled energy spewing from the body.
But it was fighting his telekinetic hold on his body, it weakly raised an
arm and Franklin's suit was engulfed in deadly shards of purple
energy that began ripping the suit apart. The Commander applied
another attempted thrust to his telekinesis and succeeded in driving
the arm down, making the energy around Franklin disappear.
The purple waves of energy that were emanating from the Ethereal
were acting as a force field, making it difficult for anyone to get close
to it. Which meant that they were close to killing it. They had to be.
They had to!
But Franklin persisted, taking one step forward into the fray, then
another. The Ethereal fell to one knee howling in pain from the
relentless assaults. His suit being torn apart from the wild energy,
Franklin still raised a fist and slammed down into the Ethereal's
head. The helmet was molded into a misshapen shape, and Franklin
raised his fist again and struck down.
The energy flared and the hand disintegrated in the flash, but
Franklin still had one good one. No more punching this time. Instead
he reached into the fray and grabbed the Ethereal by helmet and
lifted it several feet off the ground. The Commander sustained the
grasp, pinning his arms to his sides while Franklin squeezed.
Blue Ethereal blood leaked out from under the helm and with one
final crunch, the Ethereal's body emitted a shockwave that ripped
Franklin's suit almost in half and shredded his remaining arm before
throwing him well across the room.
The Commander finally let the telekinetic field drop and the power
drain away as exhaustion overtook him. His vision turned blurry, but
he stumbled forward, having to confirm it had really happened.
Vahlen and Patricia also had walked over and looked over the alien.
Joy. Relief. Elation. He experienced all those things all at once, and
he was too tired to care if they were even his own emotions. But it
didn't matter. Vahlen immediately embraced him and he returned it
strongly, neither of them caring at the point that he was missing a
hand. All that would come later.
"We did it," he said, still in shock and some disbelief. "We killed an
Ethereal."
After-Action Report
-Andreas Amsing
-John Bradford
-Renato Caio
-Herman Diederick
-Annette Durand
-Cheng Esther
-Areum Gujoian
-Orvil Halette
-Yeva Hurik
-Maven Lane
-Vivian Li
-Calebe Luan
-Lautaro Maetan
-Jae Man-Tu
-Apis Montu
-Latrell Moreau
-Duygu Nur
-Enzo Pietro
-Endre Pridan
-Samuel Roche
-Myra Rodriguez
-Zerren Saygin
-Colanar Sanger
-Garen Sevan
-Golan Shani
-Yaseen Shon
-Veronika Slava
-Han Su Hon
-Perrie Tarot
-Ralph Tritagor
-Thais Vitor
-Romed Virgil
-Cai Wong
Hephaestus
Hephaestus
Thirty-four soldiers dead, eight more wounded. That was half his
fighting force down again, not counting the few dozen non-combative
personnel who'd died defending their respective stations. In
percentages, it roughly chalked up that about a third of XCOM
personnel had died, while perhaps a sixth were injured and currently
receiving treatment.
Just over one-fifty various alien corpses, including elites, the new
suited ones, and an Ethereal. Not to mention two Raider-class
UFOs, one Overseer-class and one Transport-class. That, and they
were still breathing, still keeping the defense alive. XCOM had faced
the deadliest the Ethereals had to offer and had come out not only
alive, but stronger than before.
His new hand whirred and clicked as he set down the official AA
report. The prosthetic was rather sleek, the arm a smooth black
metal and clearly robotic fingers. From what he could tell so far, it
functioned identically to his opposite hand and didn't seem to
interfere with his psionics. It actually felt almost normal, no phantom
pain yet or any other side effects.
Though it had only been one day, so there was time. The only thing it
lacked was a certain… sensitivity, even if functionally it was perfect.
He supposed that was just one thing that couldn't be replicated by
machines. But looking at the big picture, it could have been much
worse. But ultimately, that was unimportant in light of what had to be
done now.
"Shen did a good job," Vahlen noted, looking at his prosthetic with
unbridled curiosity. It seemed she was still trying to figure out exactly
how the mechanical limb conveyed senses and the like. She'd asked
some questions, but their time had been limited since there'd been a
lot to attend to.
"I never asked," Vahlen said, walking over and taking the metallic
hand in hers. "Can you feel pain?"
The door to the Situation Room opened and the survivors of the
Internal Council walked in, Jackson, Shen, Patricia and Zhang. It felt
odd not having Bradford or Van Doorn, and he suspected that feeling
wouldn't leave anytime soon.
All of them were still alert, but definitely exhausted even if they didn't
show it outwardly. For some of them, it definitely didn't feel like a full
victory, but the fact that they'd survived was enough to hold a
sensation of triumph and satisfaction.
The Commander clasped his hands behind his back once they were
all around the holotable. "Welcome back everyone. I know how many
we lost, including good friends, but each and every one of you
deserve recognition for what you did. We killed an Ethereal and
acquired four of their UFOs. We won, and now we need to move
forward."
"I have to agree there," Shen said wearily. "And we're not in any
shape to survive another attack on this scale, even with the Marines
here."
"Some of which we still aren't sure of how they work," Shen warned,
frowning. "The UFOs will help, but we do need traditional equipment
for the time being."
She blinked. "Huh. That's… a pretty good idea. No one knows about
it, right? The Council?"
"Except, of course that the aliens do know where it is," Shen pointed
out. "Whether they know we're using it is another story."
"It is more secure than the Citadel," Zhang stated neutrally, crossing
his arms. "And once we understand the alien tech within, it will be
superior."
Patricia nodded. "Right, in that case, what are we doing with the
Citadel? The contingency itself has several solutions, if I recall."
"I'll begin going through more potential recruits," Patricia promised. "I
do think that more countries will be willing now that we've shown to
be able to weather a full attack."
"True," Zhang nodded. "This should put to rest any doubts the
Council, or anyone else, has about our ability to combat the
Ethereals."
"They are," the Commander agreed ruefully. "But only because their
fear of the aliens outweighs their fear of me. They won't stop funding
us; they have no choice here."
"Except if they are," Zhang reminded him. "They did seem to kill one
of my intelligence teams. How long until they go further?"
"I doubt the Imperator will give us that long," Patricia muttered.
"My teams will assist in the decryption of the data in the computers,"
Zhang added, exchanging a look with Shen. "There might be some
useful intel we can use, as well as details on how the systems
function."
"I will also begin analysis on the new aliens we fought," Vahlen said.
"The Ethereal, muton variant and suited alien to be precise."
"And it didn't die when the pilot did," the Commander finished.
"Which is… interesting. The AI must be sophisticated if it could
continue operations after death of the pilot. The President might find
that useful for her project, and since we have a surplus of corpses,
maybe one of the suits can be sent."
"I'll look into that," Vahlen promised, looking down at her tablet. "But
only after I complete a thorough autopsy and disassembly."
He gave her a satisfied smile. "I wish the circumstances were better,
but congratulations on your promotions, Central Officer Jackson."
She saluted at that and received congratulations from the others in
the room graciously.
The Commander let her have that moment before moving on.
"Patricia, I also want to establish you in a more defined role beyond
a psionic advisor."
"Even if the number of psions we have is small, it will need it's own
division," the Commander explained. "So effective immediately
XCOM's Psionics division is established, with you as the Overseer."
Just what he wanted to hear. "Excellent. And now that the attack is
over, we need to decide what to do with Nartha."
"Do you think planting him as a double agent is still viable?" Jackson
asked with a frown. "Especially when the attack failed?"
"Which is why he doesn't lie," Zhang said. "He assisted XCOM in the
defense to preserve his cover, as he wasn't able to extract himself to
the extraction point before the attack happened."
All of them shook their heads. Not surprising, since this was
objectively the best usage of the Vitakara. There was the trust issue,
but since Nartha had fought in defense of the Citadel it automatically
made him more trustworthy and reassured him that Nartha wasn't
trying to be a triple agent. Besides, either Patricia, Vahlen or Iosif
would have picked up on something by now.
Abby was thankful that the sight of blood, gore or corpses never took
away her appetite, else she'd be much worse than she already was
right now. All that said, it felt good to actually put her skills to use in
surgery as opposed to killing people. None of the surgeries were
particularly difficult, but… what was it? Four? Five? Whatever,
there'd been a lot of them in a row which would tire even the best
doctor. Thankfully Blake was also a competent surgeon and had
been a major help in keeping everyone alive.
But right now she was just tired and hungry. Eat first though, sleep
later.
Abby let her gaze drift to the Marines occupying the Mess Hall. It
seemed odd, seeing ordinary soldiers walking around the Citadel,
looking at where they'd been for the past year. It was somewhat
surreal having just walking around and seeing soldiers snap to
attention simply because she was part of XCOM, and she really
wasn't a soldier anymore.
She hadn't realized just how much of a mystery XCOM was to the
outsider world, especially to the military. They seemed to view even
the lowest soldier here as an officer at the very least, the absolute
best of the best, which wasn't far off, she supposed. XCOM soldiers
certainly weren't like any others in the world.
Patricia let out a long sigh. "I'm not reading your mind, Abby. I don't
do that to friends. But I can sense your emotions, whether I want to
or not. Given that you were curious and glancing to the gawking
marines wandering around, I made an educated guess. Seems I was
right."
"Huh," Abby wondered how easy her own mind would be. She liked
to think she was organized and professional, so that seemed to
mean-
"And yes, you would like be easier than say… Lesedi," Patricia
interjected with a smile. "I don't need to be psionic to know that's
what you're wondering."
"She's a lot more laid back than she appears," Patricia answered.
"Don't ask how I know that, but anyone who's thinking happy
thoughts while nailing a target across the room isn't a cold
professional."
"Now, for the second part of your question…" Patricia paused. "Both
are possible, really. It's definitely possible for the person not to be
aware you're meddling. Even if they are, you can just erase their
realization and make it so it seems like nothing is wrong. It's very
difficult and time-consuming though, and works better when the
target isn't even aware a psion is around."
"A lot of help from Vahlen, the Commander and Franklin," Patricia
conceded. "If anything people should be heaping praise on Franklin
for killing the damn thing. I was just trying to keep it paralyzed, and it
helped that I was really angry."
"You know the saying where 'repeat a lie often enough and it
becomes true'?" Patricia asked, trying to explain through analogy.
"It's something similar here. So imagine that you have the word
stand appear in your head and you don't want to. So you ignore it,
but it keeps appearing in your head. Now imagine that imprinted
directly into your mind multiple times a second. Eventually it will
reach a point where you do so subconsciously, not really because
you want to, but because that's what your brain thinks should
happen."
"Keep in mind this Ethereal had currently lost an arm, been fried to a
crisp, bled all across his body, withstanding a mental attack from me
and Vahlen, while the Commander also telekinetically pinned him to
the wall," Patricia pointed out humorously. "Add Franklin beating the
hell out of him and I would say the Ethereal actually did pretty well.
Much more than I would have."
She turned serious a few seconds later. "We got really lucky, Abby. If
any one of us hadn't been there or failed, we would have died. Yes,
we won, but it wasn't anywhere close to decisive."
They kept eating for a few minutes in silence when another soldier
came walking up. "Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked, holding a
tray of food in his hand. He sounded familiar, actually, though she
was pretty sure she hadn't seen him before. He was definitely
Arabic, with darker brown skin and short black hair. He also had
bushier eyebrow than normal, and a neatly trimmed beard. She was
still not sure where she'd seen him before.
"Thank you," he said, and took a seat. Patricia was also looking at
him, also clearly trying to place him.
"Yes, sir," he answered with a nod. "I've been in your squad several
times."
He smiled. "Right, it's much different without armor. But I don't mind,
you're doubtless very busy."
"Understatement of the day," Patricia muttered. "I almost wish I was
a regular soldier again sometimes. Much simpler."
"I don't think there are 'regular' soldiers in XCOM," Abby pointed out.
"XCOM doesn't take infantry. Special forces and Intelligence are the
main draws."
"Oh, right," she answered easily. "I'm technically not a 'soldier' per-se
anymore. I transferred to XCOM Intelligence."
His face brightened. "Ah, that makes sense. I did assume that,
though you handled your weapon more like a soldier than an agent
so I was curious."
"You were with Vahlen's team?" Abby asked. "I must have seen you
then."
"I'm certain you did," he agreed. "But there were clearly more
important things. So were you CIA before, or traditional military?"
He cocked his head, clearly trying to figure that out. "That seems…
an interesting switch."
If only he knew. "You could say that," she agreed. "But it was best for
XCOM."
"Something I can respect," he nodded. "And what about you, Ms.
Trask?"
"What about you?" Abby asked curiously. "Where are you from?"
Abby didn't recognize the name, but Patricia clearly did. "Iraqi
special forces?"
"No need to hide it," Abby said. "I don't think anyone really cares
what country you're from now."
"Most of the world isn't here," Abby continued before Patricia could
say what was on her mind. "Where you come from doesn't really
matter here. Doesn't matter if you're Iraqi, American, Iranian or
Chinese. We're all humans united against an alien threat. When
having that perspective, a lot of the things people fight over now
seem petty."
"Oh, that?" Patricia said knowingly. "I think I can answer that. Jamali,
do you remember that alien base?"
The Commander snorted. Fun. Well, this was likely going to be one
of the less-painful Council meetings, since it was entirely expected
that they would call and say how happy they were that XCOM was
still standing. Not really much else they could say, except for
demanding future plans, which all they would get is "What we're
already doing."
A shame that the Speaker would likely suffer the same fate as the
Council. He'd rather liked him.
The screen flashed and the familiar sight of the Speaker greeted his
eyes. "Hello, Commander," he greeting, inclining his head. "It is good
to see you survived the… attack… on the Citadel."
He did wish that was true, but somehow doubted it. "As do I,
Speaker. But if anything this will be what finally provokes the aliens
to fully invade Earth."
"Good to hear," the Commander said neutrally, not really giving that
statement any more weight than it deserved. "While I'm… grateful,
for their support, XCOM will not be enough to withstand a full
invasion. I assume the Council has a response to an invasion
planned?"
Yep, it definitely seemed the Speaker was not liking what he had to
say. "As XCOM is… officially… under the control of the United
Nations, the Council does not believe it would be appropriate for a
subservient branch to have influence in events regarding global
security and stability."
" Yes," the Speaker almost sighed. "The Council would like to
request you turn over two of the UFOs captured to United Nations
teams."
He only gave a small smile at the Speaker finally telling the truth.
He'd probably wanted to do that for some time now. "That is
unfortunate," the Commander said, shaking his head. "Unfortunately,
XCOM cannot spare extra resources to an organization that clearly
does not intend to work with us combating the alien threat. Will you
convey that to them?"
" Of course," the Speaker said quickly. "On a similar note, several
Councilors are ordering you to cease and desist contacting and
supplying various countries with alien tech-"
The Commander shut off the screen. He had no time for answering
questions they already knew the answers to. It was a waste of his
time and theirs, and he'd wanted to do that for a long time. If the
Council really wanted to contact him again, they could come in
person. He did take some pleasure in knowing that might be the last
time he ever had to deal with them.
"It is," Elizabeth confirmed, turning back to her from the small
holotable. "All I need is your approval to execute."
Saudia nodded. This was exactly what was needed, especially now.
"I assume you've seen the news?"
"Seems like a safe bet," Elizabeth agreed, smirking. "I would like to
see the look on the face of whatever Elder is in charge when they
learn XCOM won."
"Please," Saudia disputed. "I know you know better. The US media
doesn't bow to the president, especially if ordered to. Some of them
take pride in being the president's enemies."
"I do have some theories on this," Elizabeth said, motioning her over
to the holotable. Once Saudia walked over she continued. "You saw
the bill she introduced to Congress?"
"For some reason, I don't think that will work for very long," Saudia
commented wryly. "But if she declares a state of emergency directly
after the bill is signed into law, it's going to look very suspicious."
Well, that changed things. Somewhat. "And you don't think it's a
coincidence."
"Quite a few, big and small," Saudia noted. "He's definitely planning
something. And since XCOM has survived, I expect it's going into
motion soon."
"Well, we need to find out soon," Saudia said, pursing her lips. "I
don't like XCOM having a plan this large and not having some idea
of what it will be."
"Hopefully once Israel and Brazil are at war it will force XCOM to act
quickly," Elizabeth said, returning to the holomap which now
displayed a map of the Middle East.
"So walk through it in action," Saudia said, putting the tablet down. "It
looks good on paper, but a simulation always helps."
"And then the war starts," Saudia nodded. "And where do you
anticipate the fighting will start?"
"So let's say they have no support?" Saudia asked. "What then?"
"Then Israel braces for a long fight, which means they turtle up,"
Elizabeth answered. "Iraq would be the next logical point, and gives
them control of a decent portion of the Middle East, while completely
isolating Turkey in case they try to supply arms to the Saudis or
Iranians." Iraq was highlighted in yellow
"And once Saudi Arabia is taken, then they can take Yemen and
Oman easily," Saudia observed from the map. "By then I think the
war would be decided."
"They would likely do the same thing," Elizabeth admitted. "But while
they are busy with the Saudis, Russia would begin attacking Iran
with the United States assisting both. The combined force of all three
countries should be enough to take the region within several months,
especially with the substantial tech advantage all three nations
have."
"So once we start the war, we turn on them," Saudia said grimly. "A
bit fast, but I suspect everything is going to come to a head soon.
We need to ensure we're on the right side."
"Could they have other bases here?" Jackson asked. "I mean, it's
possible, but without us knowing? Or anyone?"
"Maybe not full bases like the Sectoid Hive," the Commander
amended. "But staging areas and landing zones? Likely, and with
major parts of the world still isolated, they could build something
small that goes unnoticed for months."
"I'd be more inclined to agree had that Ethereal not attacked New
York," Jackson said. "I agree that the Ethereals don't want to turn
Earth into a crater, but going about this to keep as many humans on
their side as possible… unlikely."
"I know," the Commander nodded. "But what if we're wrong? What if
the Ethereals are divided about how to handle us? Aegis in particular
seemed to be partial to a more peaceful solution, even if it didn't
benefit us, whereas this one clearly just wanted to wipe us out."
"Do you think the Ethereals are numerous enough to have political
factions?" Jackson asked. "And even if they did, I doubt they'd be on
a level we could comprehend, much less influence."
"I did want to ask if you found anything about how the Ethereals
found the Citadel," Zhang said, changing the topic drastically. "I think
it would be useful in ensuring the same thing doesn't happen again."
"Still though," Jackson noted. "We should try and find out
something."
"The amount of people who knew the location of the Citadel was
limited," the Commander recalled. "All of you, the pilots, and the
Councilors. No one else, to my knowledge."
"I highly doubt the Council would betray our location willingly,"
Jackson interjected, leaning back against the wall. "They may not
like you, but I genuinely don't think they want XCOM to fall."
Zhang scratched his chin. "What about EXALT? Could they have
learned about our base?"
The Commander wasn't convinced. "Then why did they wait this long
before attacking?"
Zhang shook his head. "I don't know, but I'm just pointing out the
possibility."
"The easiest solution would be to ask Director Saudia herself," the
Commander said. "Perhaps I'll bring that up when I go visit her."
Zhang sniffed derisively. "For some reason, I don't think she's just
going to tell you that."
The Commander tapped his head. "I might not be able to read minds
like Patricia, but I can tell when someone is lying. If she lies, I will kill
her. If not, we will keep talking."
"And what if EXALT was behind giving the Ethereals our location?"
Jackson asked quietly.
"I'm not fond of letting EXALT off the hook, no matter when they
shared it," Zhang muttered. "Provided they did in the first place. We
lost a lot of people to their damn games of world domination."
"Like it or not, they still have a role to play for now," the Commander
said wearily. "They deserve to be destroyed for their traitorous
actions, even if they defend it with some perversion of 'It's best for
humanity', but we have very limited amount of options, and it makes
more sense to utilize EXALT instead of destroy it."
"And you think they're just going to go along with it?" Jackson asked
skeptically. "Even if we outmatch them militarily, they'll just go into
hiding like they likely have before."
Supplementary Material
The Hephaestus Contingency
1. Mishandling of information
1. XCOM Intelligence
3. XCOM Engineering
4. The current base has suffered one or more attacks from hostile
forces
SIZE: The absolute size of the base shall not be lesser than the
previous location and must containing:
3. The Internal Council will relocate in their entirety to the new base
and resume operations immediately.
4. XCOM Armed Forces will be systematically relocated to the new
base, with some remaining behind to retain control at the discretion
of the Commander. This applies to MEC, genetically modified and
psionic soldiers.
3. In the event that the previous base is in hostile territory, XCOM will
abandon the base and sabotage it to prevent any further usage.
Options may include destroying it entirely, bugging it, or utilizing
additional forms of surveillance.
3. All visitors to the new base require screening and blood testing to
ensure health, species, and motive. Psionic interrogation will be
implemented if necessary.
4. All laws, customs and cultures of the country the base resides in
are now null and void within XCOM-controlled territory, and XCOM
has authorization to take action according to established XCOM
guidelines.
-Xabiar
Puppets
Puppets
Unknown Location
"I did always wonder what the arctic wastes would look like," Farida
commented wistfully as she walked up behind him. "Rather beautiful,
in its own way."
"Yes, resorting to murder always works for you when things don't go
your way," she taunted with a knowing smile. "Why bother to debate
with people when you can just kill them? You're not killing the
Council isn't because of some supposed danger to humanity. You
just don't like them because they oppose you."
Farida shook her head dramatically. "Come now, you know justice
and revenge are not the same thing."
"At the rate you're going, I doubt that will last much longer," she said
with a smile. "And what exactly did all those people die for, hmm? A
few more weeks? A month? All because they believed they actually
had a chance because you lied to them. You know you can't win, and
you can't even admit that to yourself."
"We killed an Ethereal," the Commander growled, taking a step
towards her. "It won't be easy, but we can-"
" One Ethereal who killed half your base," she amended raising a
finger. "And do you really think you'll last against another one? Or
two? Or three?"
She suddenly hacked and her hand flew to her throat as the
Commander extended his mechanical arm towards her, hand
positioned in a pincer motion as he telekinetically grabbed her throat.
"You know, I put up with quite a lot from you," he almost snarled,
taking a step toward her. "But even I have a fucking breaking point.
Do you really think I don't know that people are going to die in this
war? Or worse, that I don't care?"
He released his hold on her throat and she collapsed to the snow.
"And to just give up…" he paused, looking down on her
emotionlessly. "I wouldn't only be condemning my people to die by
the millions, I'd be condemning them to slavery, experimentation; we
would be nothing more than more expendable soldiers, with our free
will stripped completely. I know that people are going to die, but at
least they will die free."
"I'm sure they'll thank you for that," Farida breathed. "They'll be
thinking to that once they stare down alien plasma rifles. How lucky
they were to die free ."
"Do you really not get it?" the Commander demanded. "I can't save
everyone ! That may be what I want, but I have to accept that is not
going to happen! We don't live in a fantasy where one hero saves all
the poor innocent people, we live in reality and in reality people die!"
"Is that your excuse?" She demanded, standing up. "It's reality, so
we shouldn't even try?"
The Commander's hand unconsciously fell to his hip where his pistol
was securely fastened. "That isn't anything like what I said!"
"Do it," Farida dared. "Kill me. Take the easy way out and end the
dream. Run away like you do from the hard questions."
Aegis stared up him for a few seconds, his human form as still as
stone. "You killed one of us."
"I know," the Commander answered. "Trust me, you don't need to
remind me. I did warn-"
"No, we are not," Aegis snapped. "But not to you . Not to a species
who hasn't even left their homeworld ."
"That is your own fault," the Commander stated bluntly. "You wanted
to test us, and because of that you gave us the tools to kill you. Why
are you even this upset? That was the test, yes? To see if we could
kill one of you."
"An Ethereal would never be sacrificed just to make such a pointless
demonstration," Aegis answered firmly. "We know the potential of
your species, there was no need to kill one of our own to prove it."
Huh. Well… that was interesting. He frowned. "Then what did the
Imperator mean then?"
"That there was one final test we had to pass, and that we would
know when it happened," the Commander answered, maintaining his
stare. "Patricia surmised that it meant killing an Ethereal, especially
since there is no other test that we could face, short of a full
invasion."
"Humanity passed the final test when you killed the Hive
Commander," Aegis stated flatly. "There was no other test. The only
decision that remained was what to do with your species."
Aegis looked away into the snow. "No, just the opposite. I do believe
you, and I wish it wasn't true."
"I am referring to myself and the others dealing with your world,"
Aegis clarified. "I should have known there was more to this when
the Imperator took a direct interest in your species, going so far as to
contact one, apparently. There is only one reason for that, when
even the Sectoids and Vitakara were dismissed by him."
This was certainly interesting. "And what would that reason be?"
Aegis was silent for a few moments. "Not yet, Commander. But both
our species' roles are different than what I originally thought. We
cannot continue as we were, for the sake of the galaxy."
The Commander snorted. "What, you think that this will end in peace
? I doubt that the Imperator will stand for one of his own dying, and
you're deluded if you think we would ever trust you after what you've
done already."
"I agree," Aegis said after a few moments. "War is inevitable, and
you know it will escalate soon. There is little you can do to prepare.
Your armies are nothing against our own, your species is too diverse,
too scattered to form a resistance. You don't have enough powerful
psions to mount a successful defense."
The Commander's lips curled up. "I know. But leave the details to
me. Why do you even care? As it stands you're on the right side,
militarily."
Aegis was silent at that. Then he pointed in the distance. "See that?"
"Because, Commander, you need all the help you can get." Aegis
looked over to him. "We will not speak again here. Use what I've
given you well. Your time is short, and the next time we will meet, it
will be on Earth."
Aegis smiled. "Be careful what you wish for, Commander. You might
get it."
Vahlen also sat herself up, looking at him with a frown. "I think you
mentioned this before. You don't sleep well, thought you never
explained why."
"I did," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Lucid dreaming. Been happening
to me as long as I can remember. Frequently too, very rarely do I get
a night of sleep with nothing."
The worry eased, then morphed into curiosity. Well, in her defense, it
was interesting. "Really?" She asked curiously. "That's incredible."
He snorted. "It was incredible when I was a kid. Not so much now."
He paused, trying to think of how to articulate it. "Now it's mostly just
judgments and arguments, while my subconscious forces me to
defend all of my actions. Literally arguing with myself, but it never
feels that way, even when I know none of it is real."
"I can delay it," he clarified. "But it always comes back. I can't get rid
of it forever, and there's only been two ways I die or I kill the one
arguing with me. Alternatively, I get kicked out by a psion, though
that's only happened when Aegis has shown up."
"Ah," she laid one of her hands on his mechanical one. "Are they
people you know? Have known?"
"It never really started like this until the War on Terror," he admitted.
"But ever since then it's only been one. Farida. Or her likeness at
least."
"Yes."
Vahlen looked like she was going to question that, but then relaxed
some. "I understand that, although our work is hard enough without
dealing with imaginary opponents."
He chuckled. "Yes, true. But it's always just a dream and I wake up.
It's better to wake up now when I'm not alone anymore."
"Flatterer," she chided, moving over to lean against him. "You should
take your advice and try to get back to sleep. Even if just for a bit."
Unfortunately he did need to bring up the other part. "It wasn't just
that this time either. Aegis showed up."
"I think…" the Commander said slowly. "That the Ethereals may not
be as honest with each other as we thought. He was genuinely
surprised that we killed the Ethereal, and said that we-humanity-had
passed whatever tests they had set out for us long ago."
Vahlen looked up at him. "So does that mean the Imperator was
lying… or didn't tell them?"
"Both, perhaps," the Commander suggested. "But he seemed upset
that we'd managed to kill one at all. It wasn't supposed to happen, so
he says. He didn't elaborate why, but I think there's a lot more going
on than we know about."
Javed Falka, Iranian Quds Force operative, and EXALT agent looked
across the street at his target house. Modest, for a cabinet member,
but was definitely the home of someone well-off. He would have
thought there would be more security, but he supposed that the
Minister of the Economy wouldn't be a target for hostile agents.
Javed wasn't entirely sure why Director Vyandar and the Spymaster
wanted to start a war, but it really wasn't his place to ask. This was
why he'd been inserted into Iran into the first place, to act as an
agent to watch and execute orders from above. Granted, he'd
genuinely expected that the most he'd be able to give EXALT were
Iranian operations, names and strategies.
True, the Middle East wasn't a stable region, and rather backwards
in a lot of ways. Perhaps EXALT was deciding that it was time to
change that, and Israel was probably the best force in the region to
do so. Whether Israel actually had the capability to wage a war
against the entire Middle East was up for debate, but that wasn't his
problem.
Nope. All he had to do was kill the Minister, plant the evidence, and
leave.
He began to circle the house, taking care no one was watching and
aimed at the second camera and fired. Another down. He continued
circling to the other side and repeated the procedure with the last
two cameras. Almost too easy, truth be told.
Also a simple matter. They weren't wearing helmets, just typical suits
with body armor underneath and no combat gear whatsoever. Javed
raised his pistol and fired twice, and both men fell to the ground an
instant later, dead. He quickly swept his gaze over the deserted
street, and once he was certain no one was looking, rushed over to
their bodies and quickly checked their pockets.
The bodies taken care of, he walked up to the door and inserted one
of the keys. With a satisfying click the door unlocked and he entered
the house. Once inside, he didn't even bother searching the lower
floor since he knew the bedroom was upstairs. Carefully making his
way up the creaking steps, he looked cautiously on the top floor, still
seeing nothing.
If everything was right, the bedroom would be the second door to the
right. Javed quietly walked over to the closed door, reached for the
brass handle and pushed. No reaction, so he cautiously opened it
fully…
And smiled.
There he was, lying still on the bed without a care in the world right
now. He looked tranquil. At peace. Javed didn't feel the need to drag
this out any longer the necessary, so he just aimed directly at the
Minister's head and fired directly into the brain, killing him instantly.
As blood soaked the sheets and pillows, he began to mess up the
room, to make it look as though a fight had taken place.
First he had to move the body to make it look like he'd at least fought
back. He shot him a few more times in the arms and legs, as well as
forcing his eyes open. By the time he was done, the bed itself was
completely stained red, and the man no longer had a peaceful
expression on his face.
Because they would learn his identity thanks to the DNA and
fingerprint evidence he was leaving behind, and would then begin
searching for when he entered Tel Aviv. From there they would find
where he'd been staying, as well as some partially burned
documents detailing his orders. Fake, of course, but the Iranian seal
would survive, as well as proof of his identity.
Job done, he quietly exited the house, making sure to ditch the pistol
into a trash can.
His old identity was dead now, and he was exceptionally curious to
see where EXALT would place him next.
"What do you think will happen now?" Shun asked from across the
table. "It doesn't look like the Commander is going to lock you up.
Doesn't really seem like anyone cares now."
Nartha had to agree, and had been pleasantly surprised by the fact
that the soldiers were being… normal… around him. Not even
necessarily friendly, but just… going about their day. Not looking at
him, afraid he'd suddenly turn on them. Amazing what fighting
against an alien force with them did for trust levels.
"I don't know," he admitted, lacing his fingers together. "The death of
an Ethereal is… unprecedented."
"Not from any records I've found," Nartha answered. "Though I'm
sure there was something that thinned their numbers. But whatever
happened to them before, they were essentially invincible to us…
until now."
"In the state we're in, that doesn't look good," Shun sighed sadly. "A
lot of people died. Annette. Myra. Bradford."
"Samuel," Nartha added, feeling a wave of sadness come over him.
Even if Samuel had never fully forgiven him for lying, he was still a
friend to him at the beginning, and Nartha would never forget that.
Without Samuel, he might not have gotten as good of an impression
of humanity as he had now. "Not just for XCOM either. The mutons
and sectoids might not care about individuality, but those Borelians
did. The Vitakara government will have questions now."
"Ah, right," she sympathized. "I know they were your species. Is
there any special burial ceremonies that you do for fallen soldiers?"
"Not for the Lurainian," he answered with a shake of his head. "Burial
varies from species to species normally. Vitakarian funerals are kept
low-key, with only immediate family at them. Maybe a few close
friends. Usually no extended family or relatives. Not like how you
generally do them. But Vitakara in the military don't get that usually,
at best their names are read from a general assembly honoring the
fallen. Lurainian and Zararch excluded, of course."
"Besides," Nartha added with a small smile. "I don't think Vahlen is
particularly concerned about following any last rites."
"How many more species do you think they have?" Shun asked,
motioning aimlessly. "Just a rough estimate."
"They could have a dozen, or none," Nartha stated bluntly. "I have no
idea. I know that there are several highly advanced species further in
the galaxy, but nothing about them. Undeveloped species number in
the dozens, and species that can actually be used… in the single
digits at best."
"Yes," Nartha answered. "But very few reach the state your species
is. Most of the time they are hunted to extinction by native animals, a
disease wipes them out, or they simply destroy themselves. There
are quite a few species the Ethereals find, but don't utilize simply
because they haven't developed enough. But they do keep tabs on
them for sure."
"But they don't use them unless they're viable," Shun concluded.
"So how were they found in the first place?" Shun asked.
"Of course they tested it," Nartha snorted. "They released it back
onto the planet and that one chryssalid managed to virtually
eradicate the native species, and pretty much everything else that
was alive. The experiment was a success, and chryssalids became
the newest weapon in the Ethereal arsenal."
Shun looked him in the eye. "That's what I'm afraid of."
"XCOM will never give up," Nartha stated. "I don't think the
governments will either."
He nodded. "It won't happen all at one," she continued. "But once it
does, it will only get larger. One country will surrender, then two
more. Then that gets the other countries wondering if it's worth it.
Then say the Ethereals take those countries that surrendered and
turn them into false paradises; places they can point to and lie 'Look
at what we can offer you,' people are going to fall for that, XCOM or
no."
She unfortunately had a point. "I don't think the Commander will
allow that," he said, knowing how unrealistic that sounded.
"But what can he do about it?" She asked. "Take command of each
country himself? Establish XCOM as the new world government?"
"Forget the UN," Shun dismissed. "No one cares about them. The
countries care about sovereignty. Independence . Working together
is only needed when both sides clearly benefit. Nations won't
willingly give up that, not even when refusing means the death or
enslavement of everyone. I don't delude myself. China would never
submit to being under a world power, and I doubt the United States
or Russia would agree to something like that either."
"You know what I did," Shun sighed. "I've seen how easily people
can be controlled, how little some of them think. They don't care
about ideals, freedom or anything like that. The most important thing
I've seen for the vast majority is stability . As long as people are kept
content, they can be controlled. Talk to those North Koreans if you
want to see effective indoctrination in practice. There is an art to
controlling people… and it's not difficult."
"Probably," Shun shrugged. "But I'm just a soldier now. That's way
above me, but I do have faith the Commander knows what he's
doing. Zhang and Patricia to."
"We'll I'll hope for the best," Nartha said. "I suspect I won't be here
much longer, even if the Commander has forgotten about me for the
moment."
"I don't think I can tell you," he said slowly. "But it won't be here."
She studied him for a few minutes, clearly thinking what that could
mean. She was a smart woman, so it probably didn't take her that
long to suspect. "You think we'll meet again?"
"So do I," she agreed quietly. "You definitely are a lot more
interesting than I first assumed."
He smiled. "I'll take what I can get. You are interesting to talk to as
well."
"Sounds like a plan," she said happily, her face relaxing a bit. Then it
quickly returned to seriousness. "Looks like you've got company
coming."
He didn't know what she said, but perhaps that was alright. He
wouldn't be sad to leave Earth knowing that he had a friend here.
Give him something of a connection beyond the greater war. He
stood and walked over to Zhang. "Come with me," the tall Chinese
man ordered, no room for questioning in his voice.
Nartha nodded, the cold reality of the situation setting down on him.
Fortunately he'd thought of this ahead of time, during one of his long
bouts in the cell. He did wonder what they specifically wanted from
him, but he figured he'd know that soon enough. "Understood,
Director. Here is what my plan is…"
The good news was that it didn't sound like an invasion, but Jackson
had sounded… concerned, and the fact that Zhang was coming up
as well didn't bode well for the scale of this new crisis. Though he did
wonder what could possibly warrant it, besides a war or a Council
nation withdrawing. Perhaps the aliens were performing an
abduction or a UFO was in the air? Best case scenario probably.
Whatever the case, Mission Control was as busy as he'd ever seen
it, especially since Jackson's team was still replacing staff, though
they had enough to function adequately now. It was a good thing
they'd had replacements already lined up in the event one had to be
replaced. It was doubly hectic since the Hephaestus Contingency
was being implemented, and they were working with banged-up
equipment.
The air in Mission Control still smelled slightly of plasma and ozone,
as the holes and scorch marks in the walls hadn't been removed yet,
as repairing the computers had taken priority. The hologlobe was
back to being functional, as well as all the screens. Zhang and
Jackson were conversing over by another screen, Jackson feeling
concerned, while Zhang felt… well, curious. And oddly enough,
surprised.
It Zhang was surprised, that wasn't good. Ignoring the rest of the
analysts, he strode over to them, both turning as he approached.
"What's going on?"
"A lot," Jackson answered unhelpfully, pushing her hair back before
consulting her tablet. "So what do you want first? The bad news, the
other bad news or the good news?"
"Bad news first," he answered instantly. "Let's get that out of the
way."
"Right," she sighed. "At least half of the Israeli Executive Cabinet is
dead."
"I think it's easier to say who's still alive," she amended. "Which in
essence boils down to Ministers who don't deal with matters of
national security or the economy. The Minister of Justice is in critical
condition, but they're hopeful he'll pull through."
"So this looks like a coordinated strike," he said slowly. "Is there any
evidence?"
"Not to this scale," Jackson agreed, shaking her head. "And the
attacks are receiving universal condemnation from across the world.
Both the United States and Russia have pledged to support Israel
moving forward. We might want to make a statement as well, as they
are our allies."
"I'll draft something," he promised. "But I think it's clear which way
this is going now. Israel is going to take control of the Middle East
and I wager war will be declared at this press conference."
"But the timing couldn't be worse," the Commander said. "A war,
even with the backing of Russia and America, will take months. The
Ethereals will catch them in the middle of it, and we need Israel
fighting the aliens, not other countries."
"But he doesn't know what we do," Jackson pointed out. "By his
reasoning, Nowinski probably thinks that there won't be a better
chance. And he really has no choice in his response. Others forced
his hand."
Which was the problem. Nowinski was not only going to get to take
control of the Middle East, he was going to do it completely justified .
If one or two people had been assassinated, he wouldn't have been
surprised to learn that the Kidon had actually been behind it. But half
the cabinet, and his family? No, not even Nowinski would go that far.
At the moment, he doubted that the aliens were the first concern on
his mind.
The Commander cocked his head, not sure he'd heard correctly. "
Why ?"
"It recently came to light that those countries had been partially
funding several of the cartels that the Marshal has been trying so
hard to get rid of," she explained grimly. "That appears to be an act
of war in her books, and she wasted no time sending soldiers to
retaliate."
"I agree," Zhang nodded. "As legitimate as this looks, I suspect that
everyone involved is being manipulated. The question is who."
"There really are only two possible groups that could be connected
to both incidents," Jackson said slowly. "EXALT and the aliens
themselves."
"If we didn't know the Zararch had agents who could impersonate
humans, I would say EXALT," the Commander said. "But EXALT
starting these wars makes no sense, especially since they've likely
learned we were attacked and survived. They have to know an
invasion is coming. Starting wars isn't really conductive to that."
"Whereas the aliens can take full advantage of it," Zhang finished
with a nod. "With one fell swoop they've taken Brazil and Israel out of
the immediate picture, as well as the Middle East, and portions of the
United States and Russia. Several of the largest countries in the
world without firing a shot."
"Except that the Director would have planned for that," the
Commander answered. "At the very least there'd be a civil war in
EXALT right now, and unless you've heard something about that, I
don't think that's happened."
"I've not seen anything to indicate such," Zhang admitted. "But… this
is assuming that EXALT wasn't buying time to begin with."
"I also doubt it's EXALT," Jackson added. "Seeing as how both Israel
and Brazil are allies, I don't really see how this gains them any sort
of advantage. Unless they have a death wish, using the chaos to
insert their own people is the only way I see they could gain. And
under ADVENT, all government officials will be psionically screened,
which would reveal any EXALT or alien moles."
"We'll have to wait and see how both situations play out," Zhang
agreed. "My own operatives will keep a close eye on both
governments."
"In the meantime, you had some good news?" The Commander
asked, turning back to Jackson.
"We should probably strike now then," the Commander said. "Before
the invasion hits."
"A couple," he mused. "But I'll make that decision later. Right now it's
time for the aliens to defend a base of their own."
"What the hell were they thinking?" Creed said in disbelief as they
watched the news. Normally Patricia doubted that this was what
couples did to relax, although she did enjoy leaning up against him
on the barracks couch. But oftentimes these days, keeping up with
current events was as necessary as it was entertaining.
Less of the latter today, and she echoed his sentiments. "I don't
know."
And she really didn't. No more than the Commander, who'd briefed
her on the situation. The working theory was that these were alien
agents working to cause chaos before the invasion… but then one of
the captives was identified as a full human, so that threw a wrench
into that. She'd immediately suspected psionics, which the aliens
would have utilized if they were smart.
He looked down at her with concern. "Do you really think any of the
Middle East would think this was a good idea?"
Creed pursed his lips and looked back to the screen. "Well, if they
wanted a war, they are getting a war."
"His whole family was killed," she muttered sadly, noting that the
Prime Minister had visibly kept his composure several times. He
looked awful, though not unexpected for a man in his situation. "I'm
almost surprised he's showing this much restraint."
They both were silent for a few minutes, still watching, with several
of the other soldiers also paying attention from the back. "So what do
you think is going to happen?" He asked quietly. "What you can tell
me, I mean."
She felt some echo of frustration from him not knowing everything
she did, but she deeply appreciated how he'd done his best to work
with it. It wasn't fair to him, but she had to keep secrets, but he knew
that, so it made it easier for both of them. Fortunate he wasn't a
psion as well, else this would be a little more difficult.
"Israel will probably control the Middle East by summer," she said,
since that was just speculation. "Depending on how much Brazil
pushes… and how the other countries respond… I don't know."
But what she didn't mention was that ADVENT would likely be
established sometime in the middle of the conflicts. And since both
nations were ADVENT members, they would be receiving official
ADVENT support, which would hopefully put an end to both wars
swiftly so they could focus on the aliens. In the unlikely event that the
aliens hadn't invaded, it would give them precious little time to put a
unified defense in place.
Creed sighed. "I guess my other question is what we are going to do.
How long can XCOM stay out of it? Especially since we're allied with
both countries."
"Probably the smartest move," Creed nodded. "I really don't know
the best solution. I find it hard to believe that this many countries
would make an attack like this now… but it's clearly happened.
There needs to be something done. I just wish a war wasn't the
solution."
"I think everyone here thinks that," Patricia agreed. "But there's not
much we can do now except wait and see what happens."
Creed nodded and stood, moving to his locker as did several other
soldiers. "Do we know much about this base?"
"How many is he bringing?" Creed asked as she helped him with his
chest armor.
"A skyranger, plus one MEC," she answered while she strapped him
up and tightened his armor. "This is as much retaliation as seizing
the opportunity."
"They hit our base, we hit theirs," Creed noted with a smile. "Sounds
good to me."
"Agreed, now help me with this," she ordered, lifting her own armor
which he helped place over her shoulders. The Aegis armor
definitely was much easier to put on when two people helped each
other out. She did find it a little funny how happy he was just helping
her out like this. A true gentleman, he.
"Let's move out," she said, moving towards the exit, already sensing
the Commander there. "I don't think we should keep him waiting too
long."
He smiled under his helmet. "Not quite. CIA, doing mostly classified
field work."
"An agent?" She asked, or more reacted . "I… didn't think of that."
"I also had a comment," the Indian MARCOS operative, Meru Paras
asked, finally taking part in the conversation. "Is it an American thing
to refer to titles only?"
"So what were you a part of?" Meru asked Sierra. "United States
military, I assume?"
"Marine RECON," she answered proudly, straightening up some
more. "Special forces, like you, I assume. Not quite as famous as the
SEALS, but we're fine with that."
"Thanks,"
The door to the Hangar hissed open and Patricia finally walked
through, with Creed, Seok and Shun behind her. The Commander
nodded to Riley who quickly ran into the skyranger to prepare it.
"Ready to go, Commander," Patricia said, stopping right before him
and saluted.
"Which may be a problem for us," Shun noted slowly, messing with
her gauss pistol. "We'll be completely exposed charging forward."
"Or intelligence," Shun pointed out. "They do run the Ethereal spy
network, right?"
Shun did have a good point. "Let's hope it's a Vitakara," Seok said
cheerily. "Makes for an easy fight for Patricia. Boom, mind control."
"I have to locate him first," Patricia amended. "And being that
overconfident is… preemptive? I would be surprised if the Vitakara
hadn't developed some form of anti-psionic defenses."
"If that were the case, then why not use them before?" Creed
pointed out. "That would have taken care of the biggest threat to
them, you."
She ironically found it flattering that she would be considered the
biggest threat, but she did see his point. "Good question, but it
seems odd that they wouldn't develop something especially since
we're psionically capable."
She and the Commander exchanged a helmeted look, and she could
tell he'd been thinking the same thing. Shun was right, and that
matched up with what Nartha had said about the Vitakara who'd felt
helpless in rebelling. They had no reliable way to negate psionics,
and if that was given to them….
" Commander, this is Burning Sky," Riley said over the intercom,
sounding very puzzled. "We're coming up on the LZ now, but there's
a complication."
"What is it?"
" It appears that the aliens are already engaged with a hostile force,"
she explained. "I'm going to circle around to get another visual. Gray
Sky, hold and prepare to drop."
" You're not going to believe this," Riley told them in disbelief. "But it
appears EXALT forces are also assaulting the base."
She rested a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," she assured him.
"If they attack us, we'll take them out. Humans aren't difficult to
control. But otherwise we should use them."
"We have a MEC, two psions, two skyrangers and far more
advanced armor and weapons," the Commander rattled off. "We'll
know if they betray us, and I doubt it because they aren't complete
idiots. Patricia is right. If they want to help us, then we'll take it. Do
not shoot any EXALT soldiers unless fired on first. Am I clear?"
There was quite a bit of uncertainty, but all of them confirmed with a
"Yes, Commander."
The skyranger lights flashed red. The Commander stood as did all of
them, forming into rows of two behind him and Carmelita as the
skyranger went into a sharp dip. Now Patricia could sense the fight
much more clearly, alien and human minds all focused on killing
each other. Fear. Joy. Pain. Horror. All that from both sides.
The skyranger set down softly and the ramp lowered and they were
immediately assaulted with a barrage of fresh snow, as it seemed a
blizzard or snowstorm was getting started. Patricia grinned. Nothing
really like charging to take an alien base in the middle of dangerous
weather.
"Deploy!" The Commander ordered, and they charged out into the
ever-growing snowstorm.
The Arctic
They were close enough now that he could see the base pretty well,
and it seemed like there was more cover than he'd initially thought.
Several walls of alloy barriers had been deployed in front of the base
and he could see at least ten figures shooting plasma at the EXALT
soldiers who had taken cover behind the farthest alloy barrier, as
well as their own deployable cover.
He adjusted his voice projection so that the EXALT soldiers could
hear him. "Shun, Meru! Take the left! Seok, Sierra, the right!
Carmelita, Patricia, take the aliens out, Creed, with me!"
"Take out the gunners!" One of the EXALT soldier roared, pointing to
one of the aliens to the left laying down suppressive plasma fire on
that position. She might have been in charge, since she was wielding
a plasma rifle for some reason, but it drew his attention to the fact
that these weren't the regular aliens they'd seen before.
First off, there were a lot more than he'd thought. At least twenty now
that the base doors had opened and more had come out. The
majority were primarily Borelians, completely armored similarly to the
ones recovered from the UFO transport. They were holding out well,
too. He only saw three dead, and they were holding the line for the
others to advance.
The final aliens were humanoid, wearing their own armor, though
considerably less bulky than the gunner aliens. It was similar to
XCOM armor in its sleekness, though their faces were also covered
up by helmets with clouded visors. They appeared to be more
specialized. Snipers and support, since he saw two in the back, and
one forward treating a wounded Borelian.
"Grenade!" Shun yelled and dove to the side, tackling one of the
nearby EXALT soldiers as the green blast nearly killed her.
"These xenos are smarter," the EXALT woman muttered, sliding into
cover. "Any of your people have explosives?"
"Don't waste them on the gunners," she advised going back up to fire
off a few more shots. "Damn things seem to be immune."
"Working!" She yelled, letting her weapon drop to the ground as she
drew upon her power. He lowered his own weapon and nodded
towards Creed.
"Don't fight it," he heard Patricia mutter. "It will all be over soon."
"The hell?" The EXALT woman said, directing him to look at the alien
gunners, as one had suddenly turned on the others, seemingly killing
one instantly and the other was engaging in close combat. Several
Borelians were falling as well, seemingly from snipers in the back.
Now was the change.
One of the Vitakarian noticed him coming and raised his weapon,
though not before the Commander telekinetically grabbed him and
lifted, hoisting the humanoid several feet into the air. He
concentrated the grasp around the neck, then sharply twisted his
wrist, and after seeing the neck snap irreparably, tossed the corpse
back towards the retreating Borelians.
The rush of power still in him, he raised his left hand towards two
more Borelians and yanked back, seeing them stumble forward and
drop their weapons, making it easy for the EXALT soldiers to execute
them. "Target eliminated," Sanya stated, stepping over the corpse of
the alien gunner. "Firing barrage."
"Hold position!" The Commander yelled, crouching behind the barrier
as did every other soldier as Sanya planted himself, raised both
arms, and fired six missiles in quick succession towards the final pod
of Borelians who had nowhere left to run. To their credit, they did try,
but the ones that attempted to escape the blast were quickly cut
down by a hail of lead and lasers.
The Commander lifted one into the air, and simply watched it get
shot several times before letting the body drop. Creed and Sierra
killed another straggler and several EXALT soldiers took out a
Vitakarian, while the EXALT leader executed another fleeing
Borelian. It took several minutes to clear the stragglers, but once it
was done, relative silence fell over the battlefield, barring the howl of
the wind.
And now that it was over, none of them were quite sure what to do.
The Commander definitely felt suspicion from the soldiers, but the
woman in front of his seemed very focused and not at all disturbed
he was here. "XCOM, I assume," she said, motioning to her soldiers
to keep their weapons lowered. She definitely was the leader, then.
"I wasn't expecting you to be here."
"I can say the same about you," he answered evenly, taking stock of
the almost comically short woman. But despite her stature, she had
an intensity around her that reminded him of Mira. The orange
bandanna around her lower face didn't hide her piercing eyes, which
where most of it seemed to be. Very laser-focused on the objective
at hand. "What are you doing here?"
She was definitely telling the truth about that, and he started to nod
before Patricia walked up. "Finish that thought," she said quietly.
"That isn't everything. What else are you here for?"
Several of the EXALT soldiers clearly didn't like her tone and raised
their weapons, at her. She simply looked at them and they gasped a
few seconds later, clutching their heads. "Your soldiers should follow
your directions better," she warned, looking back at the woman.
"Answer the question."
The woman clearly knew when she was outdone. "Fine then. The
aliens took several psions away from us. We're going to retrieve
them."
"You know about them?" She demanded, narrowing her eyes. "How-
ah, Subject Four is with you. Of course. How is she?"
The pride he felt from those words was interesting. Hmm. "I am the
Commander of XCOM."
"Is that right?" She said slowly. "Well, interesting." She motioned
towards the base. "We're both here, and the aliens are our enemies.
We can either fight each other pointlessly, or take the base together."
Zara clearly found that amusing. "You have two psions and a MEC,
besides, I know when I'm outmatched, Commander. Besides, I have
no wish to bring XCOM down on us."
She was silent for a few moments. "You are not the type to negotiate
on this. Fine. But we keep whatever is in the base."
"The corpses, and any MELD or unidentifiable artifacts are ours," the
Commander amended. "But EXALT can keep the alloys and base
itself. Is that sufficient."
Zara glanced over to the SEAL who comically dwarfed her, but she
clearly wasn't intimidated in the least. Patricia did have to respect
that. "Yes, I was. I assume you were one of the survivors?"
She could imagine Creed's face as he answered, even from his tight
tone. "One of them, yes. You caught us by surprise."
Patricia heard Zara snort. "That was the plan. I hope you're not
expecting an apology. You killed many of my soldiers as well."
The architecture here was slightly different from the Sectoid Hive.
Everything here was more angular, and slanted up by the roof. The
supporting beams were all the same way, slanted, not straight up.
The initial entrance was also pretty large, enough for the fifteen or so
EXALT soldiers as well as everyone from XCOM.
There was pretty much no cover, but she knew she would sense
problems well before they showed up. Unless they used cyberdisks
or drones, but they would hear those coming, and there was enough
firepower to take anything out that entered this room. Sanya led the
group too, and would take the brunt of any surprises.
She closed her eyes and focused exclusively on the area and front
of her. "Nothing alive," she answered, opening her eyes. "They might
have drones or cyberdisks, though."
"Stop!" Zara yelled and Carmelita instinctively froze and turned to the
irate woman.
"Use your brain," Zara hissed back. "You ever think these could be
trapped for guests? What if it explodes if the wrong person opens
it?"
"Don't know yet," he answered. "Both will have to be taken soon, but
I'd rather take the one to the Command center. Do you have an
idea?"
"Give me a-"
"Lights!" Seok shouted and four while lights from the corners of the
room flashed on all focused at one spot directly in front of the
Commander.
"Hold fire!" He yelled before any shots were fired at the sources. The
light was definitely forming into something, and Patricia now
suspected she knew what it was.
But Patricia knew, and once more it seemed Nartha had been
correct in his description. The Vitakarian before her stood at least as
tall as the Commander, had an interestingly human face, in terms of
simple shape. The dark gray skin seemed metallically smooth and
shiny, even through the hologram. No hair covered his head, or any
sign of facial hair or eyebrows from what she could see. But what
attracted her immediate attention were the dark blue eyes, solid orbs
with no pupils that almost seemed to be glowing, though that might
have been because of the hologram.
The alien didn't seem that surprised they knew what he was. "I am.
And I suspect I know why you're here."
" EXALT was always at risk," the alien stated calmly. "The setback
will be dealt with later."
"I'd pick your words a little more carefully," Zara suggested. "XCOM
killed an Ethereal. Your Elders aren't invincible."
The alien's lips twitched, which was all the surprise he betrayed.
"That doesn't matter at the moment, Zara Venator. " He looked back
to the Commander. "I have an ultimatum for you, Commander. I
know you have the cyborg and the psion Patricia Trask with you. My
soldiers and I will fight to the death, but I know we will lose but
before that, we will deny you your prize." He paused. "But this can
be avoided, Commander. You want to save these psions? Then
leave, or I will kill the Furies."
She could imagine the Commander raising an eyebrow. "You are not
in a position to be making demands…" He paused. "What is your
name?"
" Are you willing to take that chance?" The alien… Baranth, if he
followed similar naming patterns to Nartha, said.
They fired and the cameras sparked and the alien vanished. The
Commander immediately turned to her. "We have to assume that he
was telling the truth and intends to kill the Furies. You need to locate
them and prevent anyone else in the area from killing them. Can you
do it?"
But three psions would stand out, even if they were likely in some
kind of sleep or stasis. Just a little more….and there. Yes, they were
sleeping at the moment, unconscious, unafraid, blissful. She
mentally nodded, lost in the darkness around her. Brighter spots
became more apparent and she expanded her senses around the
Furies.
Now what would be the best way to neutralize them? Sleep? Could
work, but making it last for any length of time would be draining, and
it wouldn't allow her to maintain a field of sleep around the area.
What else? Ah…
The Hive Commander in the Sectoid Hive had been able to make
several soldiers temporarily blind. At the time she'd not been sure
how he'd done that, but now she knew that it was likely only a simple
matter of just telling the brain that it was blind. Brains were funny that
way, control that, and the person was controlled.
She spread that out to all the nearby minds, forcing into their alien
psyches, repeating the words over and over until it took root. And
she soon got indication that she was achieving it. The tenseness and
calm that the minds possessed first turned to confusion, then
concern, and it would soon be driven to panic.
No one is coming.
The repeating of the mantra over and over turned the black
calmness around her into a purple maelstrom of rage, terror,
helplessness and despair.
The Commander couldn't help but gain a little bit of satisfaction from
how all of the EXALT soldiers were keeping a healthy distance from
Patricia as she seemingly unconsciously led them through the base.
There were doors to the side, but supported by Creed, she simply
bypassed them all and kept striding forward. She must have been
deep in her mind, since her entire figure was blurred, as if trapped
within a purple-tinged heat wave.
Even Zara was keeping her distance, eyeing the psion with… not
quite fear, but definitely concern and discomfort. Good. It would
definitely prevent her from making any stupid mistakes. Though to
be honest, he didn't expect any, at least from her. She struck him as
a very direct person, not a backstabber.
Now they could hear sounds coming up, some frantic shouting in
another language, some firearm discharges and screaming.
Whatever worked.
With all the soldiers in position, he nodded to Zara on the other side
of the door, and pressed the switch which opened the door. The
metal slid open soundlessly and they looked into a room of chaos.
It was definitely a science room of some kind. The back wall had
several elerium power stations, and the center was filled with various
alien equipment, tables and within a small depression in the middle
of the room, three transparent pods.
"Kill them."
At that, all of the soldiers who had a shot fired and five fell to the
ground, dead. Pandemonium broke out as the soldiers started firing,
instantly killing some of their own. The Commander telekinetically
picked up a cowering scientist, and brought him closer, while the rest
of them moved in. The scientists started shouting in his language,
though not directly at him. It really did seem he was blind, though
with a Vitakarian, he couldn't really tell from the eyes.
He tossed him to several EXALT soldiers behind him. "Tie him up!"
He ordered, and they complied immediately, clearly not wanting to
argue with the telekinetic psion. One down. He had a live Vitakarian,
now for one of the gunners…
He entered the lab and witnessed the carnage before him. It was a
massacre and nowhere close to a fair fight. Whatever Patricia had
done had debilitated the Vitakara completely, turning them from
professional soldiers into shaken blind rookies. What Vitakara
weren't instantly killed were wrestled to the ground and then knocked
out or executed. Even if he'd ordered the rest killed, several XCOM
soldiers were taking the opportunity to capture as many as possible.
Sanya had picked up one of the gunners, and was pinning it to the
floor, restraining it as it thrashed and roared around. The air was
permeated with fear and terror as the EXALT soldiers hunted down
the cowering Vitakara and executed them without mercy and with a
deadly efficiency. Zara definitely became more alive in the fight,
gaining an enthusiasm he hadn't sensed in her before now.
Carmelita and Seok ran over to help Sanya restrain the thrashing
Vitakara gunner, while he moved to help Zara deal with the last one
which was already wounded from friendly and hostile fire. The
gunner was on its knees, yellow blood seeping from gaps in its
armor. Zara walked up causally and blasted it in the face, throwing it
back onto its back, and proceeded to fire several more times.
Job done, she turned sharply on her heel to him. "Good shot," he
said.
"This was pathetically easy," she answered, walking past him down
to where the Furies were contained. "Your other psion did her job a
little too well. I don't like shooting defenseless enemies, and these
seemed to qualify."
"Yeah, smart," she said. "But it's not nearly as invigorating this way."
She sighed and shook her head. "Anyway, let's look at this."
She clearly wanted to ask about that, but refrained and moved to
look at another pod. He continued and finally found several
commands that should release the man inside. He executed them
and watched as the fluid drained out. "The glass pod should open
once the fluid is gone," he told Sierra beside him. "Disconnect the
sensors and get them immediate first aid."
She nodded, and waved Carmelita and Shun over. "Got it."
That out of the way, he went and repeated the same procedure with
the other two pods. One of the EXALT soldiers had found some
clothes, and were assisting the XCOM soldiers in getting the Furies
in some kind of attire, even if they were still unconscious. He
suspected that they would still be out for a while yet. Unfortunate he
hadn't known ahead of time, otherwise he'd have brought Blake
along to ensure they were fine.
He sensed Patricia walking up, under her own power, but clearly
drained. "Good job," he told her. "Not completely sure what you did,
but well…" he indicated the room with a nod. "It wasn't a fair fight."
"I don't sense anything wrong," she answered, looking down at the
Fury. "But I might be wrong. That took… more out of my than I
thought. But she is very powerful, all of them are. If they're anything
like Annette, I think they'll be extremely valuable."
"Do you think the Vitakarian tried to kill them?" He asked Patricia.
"Probably," Patricia shrugged. "But it's hard to follow orders when
you're blind and terrified."
"We should leave some here to make sure there are no surprises,"
Zara stated, walking up. "Then we deal with this alien permanently."
The Commander fixed his gaze on her. "I want him alive. Do not kill
him."
"If you want," she shrugged. "But only if he isn't about to kill one of
my soldiers."
"Not if your psion pulls the same trick off," she said, nodding to
Patricia. "Nice job."
"Fine," Zara stated, moving on. "I'm sure we can deal with the rest of
the aliens still alive."
"I agree," the Commander nodded. "I found schematics for the base.
I know where the Commander center is, and that is where I assume
our Vitakarian friend is."
"Where did you get that name?" Zara asked, probably frowning if he
could see her obscured mouth.
"I had a bad feeling about it from the start," Zara shrugged. "But I
trusted the Director to know what she was doing. Besides, I'm
biased. I'm a soldier and have little patience for schemes and
diplomacy. Sometimes the best solutions are the simplest."
He wondered if all the Venators were like her. To some extent they
must, because she was apparently their leader. It really was
interesting how EXALT could breed people with such personalities.
"Have some of your soldiers stay back," he instructed Zara. "I'll have
Sierra and Shun stay back with them."
"Will do," she agreed with a nod, probably grinning as they prepared
to move out. "Time to see if this alien has any more tricks for us."
Everything seemed a little fuzzier now that she was back in the real
world. Likely due to her being physically exhausted. It was strange,
her body was telling her it needed a rest, but strangely enough, she
didn't actually feel tired or worn out. She wouldn't be able to do that
again… but she could still make enough of a difference in the
coming fight.
The Commander took the lead as usual, with her and Zara by his
sides, Sanya behind them followed by the remainder of the EXALT
and XCOM soldiers. They were definitely going up now, slowly but
surely. Patricia didn't even know if they were underground or not
anymore, such was how this place was constructed. The only thing
she knew for sure was that it was smaller than the Sectoid Hive, and
seemed to disrupt psionic sensing to a degree.
That was better, since it hadn't done anything to stop her from
turning the Vitakara soldiers into sightless, terrified, aliens. She
hadn't been aware much of the fight, as it was easy to make sure her
aura wasn't affecting humans, but it had been interesting to witness
the minds around her suddenly vanish, one by one as they were
executed.
"You don't have to remind me," Zara chided, raising her plasma rifle.
"Believe me, I'm aware of the value of high-ranking enemy
personnel."
"I'm pretty sure they locked it," Creed commented, looking at the
door. "It'll probably take some time to cut through."
" Wait."
"You've lost," the Commander said, holstering his rifle and stepping
forward. "The Furies are under our control and you're trapped inside
there."
The alien's lips hardened into a thin line. "I know. Fighting you would
achieve nothing except getting my remaining soldiers killed. I'm
willing to negotiate a surrender."
Surprised.
It occurred to her that the idea of the aliens surrendering had never
really existed as a possibility in her mind. No others had done it
before, instead fighting to the last, even if it was suicide. Perhaps it
was because the Vitakara valued life a little more, and saw no point
in wasting it. Nartha had said his species was less inclined to
violence, and were supposedly rational. Following that….them
surrendering then made perfect sense.
"You are not in any position to dictate terms," Zara stated, also
stepping forward. "The-"
"Quiet," the Commander interrupted, cutting her off. "If they want to
negotiate, we will do that."
Zara was clearly ready to debate this, but she seemed to realize that
she was also not exactly in a position to make demands. "Then do
it," she practically spat. "But they are owed nothing."
Patricia knew why. While that might have been an easy thing to
promise, she knew that the Commander wouldn't make it. They
didn't have the luxury of holding prisoners of war; every alien in
captivity was another resource they could use to combat the
Ethereals. That involved experimentation, which most of the time
was not defined as 'treated well.'
But at the same time, she knew the Commander wouldn't force a
fight, nor would he lie. So what ultimately happened would likely
come down to what the alien decided. "I can't promise that," the
Commander finally said.
" And how do I know you'll even follow through with that?"
"You don't," the Commander admitted. "But at least now you know
the possibilities. If I didn't care about my word, I would have just lied
to you when you first asked."
" You have a point," the Runianarch officer admitted, his eyes
unblinking. "Our choices essentially are die now, or potentially die
later."
"Yes."
"You will cooperate fully with us, and answer any questions we
have," the Commander stated, indicating Patricia. "Psion Trask will
be ensuring you don't lie about anything. Pass that and then we will
move on to what to do with you and your soldiers personally."
"More to the point, do you really think they'll be useful without being
test subjects?" Zara demanded. "What could they possibly provide?"
The all raised their weapons at the door, all business once more. "Do
not fire unless they try to attack," the Commander ordered.
"Carmelita, Meru, take each one into custody and bind them
individually. Zara, have your soldiers take them down to the Fury lab.
Creed, be sure to accompany them."
"That's the last of them," Patricia said, after quickly confirming that
the room was empty.
"And the base is ours," Zara stated, satisfaction clear in her voice.
"Not bad."
"On that we agree," Patricia nodded. "The Furies are recovered and
we have nearly twenty prisoners."
"And you'll hold up your end," Zara said, turning to him. "We keep
the base, you get the aliens and Furies."
"Of course I will," the Commander confirmed. "You can have this, for
what little good it'll do you. Although I suspect the Director won't be
happy."
Zara snorted. "Of course not. But she'll at least agree that it's better
that the Furies are out of the aliens hands. But she's not
unreasonable, and will understand why I agreed to it."
"Yes and no," the Commander answered slowly, removing his helmet
and turning his unshielded gaze to her. "EXALT is in this war now,
and I need to know just how much. It's time I met Director Vyandar in
person, Lady Venator. When you return, tell her to expect a visit
within a few days."
"Then you know where we…" Zara trailed off. "Never mind. I'll be
sure to tell her. And should we expect an escort?"
"We will," Zara assured him. "You can be sure of that." With that, she
turned at walked away to speak with her own soldiers.
"Then I'm looking forward to the reaction of the rest when you tell
them."
"You won't have to wait long," he promised, looking out into the
frozen wasteland. "It's time everyone knew my true plans for EXALT."
After-Action Report
Note: You and Bradford apparently shared the same type of wit - The
Commander
Personnel:
Status: Active
Kills: 5
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 6
Status: Active
Kills: 6
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Timberwolf 6: Specialist Sierra Morrow
Status: Active
Kills: 3
Status: Active
Kills: 2
Status: Active
Kills: 1
Status: Active
Kills: 8
Artifacts Recovered
Personnel Recovered:
-Matthew Hawkins - Fury Designation: Alecto
"We didn't achieve our primary directive," Zara said slowly, clearly
not sure how Saudia would respond. "But given that XCOM was
involved, and seeing what they could do, fighting them was probably
not a good idea."
If Zara had tried to take the Furies by force, they would have likely
been killed.
EXALT may have had the numbers advantage, but that really didn't
mean anything to XCOM. Only overwhelming numbers had a
chance, and depending on how many aliens assaulted the Citadel,
maybe not even then.
"No," she finally answered, looking at Zara. "You did the right thing.
Attacking XCOM is a bad idea for… multiple reasons."
"Especially now that we have a truce with them," Zara added,
pursing her lips. "To his credit, the Commander definitely worked well
with me and my soldiers. Though he did make it very clear who was
in charge."
"It wasn't a total loss," Zara noted. "We do have the Fury base, as
well as the alloys within it."
"Which is exactly why the Commander took them," Zara nodded. "He
doesn't trust us."
"I also think that the Commander has plans of his own for us," Zara
added, crossing her arms. "He said he would be coming to speak to
you within a few days."
"He didn't say the name," Zara admitted. "But he wouldn't have said
it unless he was certain. And no, I don't know how he could have
possibly learned that."
"Perhaps it's for the best," Saudia said after a few seconds, turning
to walk to a window looking out into the vast frozen wasteland. "The
tensions between EXALT and XCOM should be resolved sooner
than later. Will he be coming alone?"
"He said so," Zara answered, walking up beside her. "But I think
there's a bigger problem here. The Commander is a psion, so he
might be able to tell if you lie to him."
Saudia pursed her lips. "I've thought about that. You said that it was
his other psion that performed the more powerful feats. What did he
do, exactly?"
"And how exactly will you do that?" Zara demanded. "If he learns we
revealed their base, as well as starting these wars…"
"I know," Saudia answered firmly. "Which means this will be handled
very delicately. I'll have to be careful to tell the truth, but not
necessarily the whole truth."
"Do you really think that will work?" Zara asked, looking away from
her.
"I don't know," Saudia admitted. "But we've got no other choice. The
Commander may forgive certain things, but our work on this scale…
he will likely deem us to risky and move to remove us."
"I doubt he would start a fight if he was alone," Zara speculated. "But
afterwards…"
"I'm more concerned what he wants from us," Saudia interrupted, her
lips forming a thin line. "He has plans. None of the possibilities are
good for us."
"The most obvious is dissolution," Saudia said. "I can see him
wanting to rid us for good. Which will never happen, but it will disrupt
us for decades."
Zara snorted. "See, here's the thing. EXALT is not filled with easily
swayed idiots who don't see the big picture. We can critically think,
that's kind of a big part of our childhood. All for the mission and
greater good. That is what you're doing. They will know that between
most of us being killed, or working with some XCOM oversight to
fight the aliens… this is the best decisions in your situation. They
won't like it, none of us do, but they will understand."
"Don't mention it," Zara dismissed with a wave of her hand. "You'll
always have my respect, even if we don't agree. Whatever happens,
you will always do what's in the best interests of EXALT. You don't
have to worry about my family causing problems."
Saudia sniffed. "Yes, because that was a major concern for me."
"That's the spirit," Zara chuckled, patting her on the back. "We can't
change what XCOM knows and what they'll do, but let's focus on
what we can do."
"Good advice," Saudia nodded, pushing herself off the wall. "In that
case, I suppose we should prepare for the arrival of the
Commander… and see how the state of the world is since our
intervention."
The Citadel, Mission Control
"It does say something that they have yet to address Brazil,"
Jackson agreed, tapping on her tablet. "Speaking of which, the war
around Brazil is in full swing. From the looks of it, it's not going to
take long."
"I will," the Commander answered. "But I'd like to know your own
thoughts, you know that area much better than me. I never really ran
many operations in South America."
Jackson sighed. "I'm worried this is going to get out of control really
fast. The cartels are going to see the response and panic. And they
have people everywhere, in every country. Brazil is going to notice a
mass exodus of suspected cartel members and… I'm not convinced
they won't use that as an excuse to continue pushing forward. And
the more they push, the more countries like Argentina and Peru will
start pushing back…."
She trailed off for a moment. "I don't know if Brazil wants to start a
war with the entirety of South America, but unless they exercise
some self-control, that is just what might happen. Since restraint
doesn't appear to be in the vocabulary of Marshal Luana, unless we
want that, we need to make it clear that further aggression will not be
tolerated."
The Commander agreed with that analysis. The Marshal was likely
someone who would be useful in a military crisis, but she could be
easily manipulated, which might become a problem when ADVENT
was finally established. There were guidelines for ADVENT
representatives and heads of state, and she was not doing well at
the moment. But that might work to their advantage. "I agree," he
told her. "Which is why ADVENT needs to be established soon to
officially bring Brazil under it. That is ideally the best way to bring her
in line, since if she doesn't abide by the guidelines, she will be
removed from office."
"And if that doesn't convince her, losing the support of XCOM will,"
Jackson finished. "So does that sound good? Any aggression
outside of Bolivia and Paraguay will not be tolerated?"
"Of course," Jackson said dryly. "Jordan and Lebanon are under
Israeli attack, and more reinforcements from America will be arriving
within days. Afterwards all signs point to a full attack on Syria.
Russia has also started deploying soldiers to take Iraq, and from the
string of suspicious deaths of high-ranking military personnel in
Saudia Arabia and Iran, it appears that the Mossad is hard at work
weakening the opposition."
"So our official stance will be that we're staying out of it," the
Commander said. "This wasn't exactly how I wanted the Middle East
to be united, but Israel is probably the best to take it over.
Emphasize that we won't be taking part in either conflict."
"I will," the Commander answered, somewhat resigned. "It's time the
world sees the Commander of XCOM. No need to really hide
anymore, it's not like we're a secret."
"Good luck with that," Jackson said, giving a mock salute. "We all
respect your sacrifice."
"Quiet," he muttered. "It's not that bad. If I can handle the Council
and the Ethereals, I can certainly handle a few questions from
journalists. They're like politicians, except have a louder voice.
Unfortunate that I don't really care about their opinion."
"Trust me, I will," the Commander promised. "But I don't think what I
say will be what they want to hear."
"I might tune in for that," Jackson chuckled. "It'll be interesting to
watch."
"The means you have yet to really share," Jackson noted wryly.
"Time to reveal your master plan?"
Patricia and Zhang didn't seem entirely surprised, since that was a
logical usage of the shadow organization. Everyone else on the
other hand…"Commander…" Jackson asked hesitantly. "Are you…
sure… that's a good idea."
Now all of them were skeptical, and this was where it was going to
get tricky. "You're going to have to explain that," Shen said slowly,
eyeing him skeptically. "If history has… allegedly… proven one thing,
it's that EXALT can never be completely destroyed. It will go into
hiding or just exist under a different name."
"Oh." Patricia suddenly said, her eyes widening as she looked at the
Commander, seemingly becoming paler as she seemed to get what
he was implying.
The Commander's lips curled up. "I think you have the right idea,
Patricia. EXALT will only go into hiding if it feels that they are
threatened or have not achieved their goal. Remove that… and they
won't have any reason to go against us."
Zhang decided to get to the heart of the matter. "What exactly are
you going to tell Director Vyandar to convince her to not only
dissolve EXALT, but also prevent her from setting things in place for
their return? She strikes me as the woman who will bide her time
until the time is right to strike."
So he told them.
Shock shot through them like lightning bolts. Even Zhang's eyes
widened as he explained what he planned to use to convince Saudia
to follow his plan. Jackson, Shen and even Vahlen were looking at
him in disbelief, while Patricia was still processing it since she had
guessed before. Vahlen seemed more surprised that he had even
considered it, rather than the idea itself.
Jackson seemed to speak for them. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"No."
"I will tell some of them," the Commander said. "It will be necessary
so she doesn't get too comfortable, but the rest… telling them would
serve no purpose other than to divide ADVENT, and division is the
last thing we need."
He paused for a moment, clasping his hands behind his back. "I'm
well aware of what I'm doing. But remember that we have one thing
they don't; Psions. If they have any traitorous intentions… then we
will take appropriate action, even if it's at the highest levels. But this
is the only way we can eliminate EXALT from the world forever."
No one said anything. None of them were thrilled with the idea, but
like him, they realized that out of all the options… it was
unfortunately the best one they had. It was an extreme risk, but
times like these called for such risks, and he was confident that they
could be mitigated enough to not pose and issue.
"Then wish me luck," he said, moving to change into his armor. "Let's
hope that EXALT reacts the way we want them to."
"With what you're offering…" Jackson shook her head. "They'd be
idiots to refuse."
"They did ally with the aliens at one point," Patricia reminded them,
and that bit of humor seemed to lift their spirits a bit as he prepared
to meet Director Saudia Vyandar.
"I doubt they would come if the skyranger couldn't handle the
weather," Saudia muttered. "Keep watching and let me know when it
lands."
"Yes, Director."
She turned away and walked towards Ethan reading his tablet on the
other side of the room, talking to one of Zara's soldiers. Catching her
gaze, he muttered something to the soldier who then walked away
quickly. "You're sure it's him?"
Ethan pursed his lips, setting his tablet down as he looked up at her.
"Showtime. I wondered how long it would take him to pay us a visit."
"We'll take care of him," Ethan promised, a shadow falling over his
face. "I told you, our loyalty is with EXALT and you."
"I'll do my part to make sure it goes well," Saudia promised. "Do you
think he'll be happy to see you?"
"The Commander?" Ethan smirked. "Not right now. You're his priority
and until EXALT is… figured out for him… he won't focus on me. The
mission comes first."
"We went over this," Ethan chided lightly. "If I didn't know better, I'd
say you were nervous."
"The future of EXALT will be decided by the end of the day," Saudia
said wearily, the weight of that knowledge coming to the forefront of
her mind again. "So yes… I'm… concerned ."
Saudia stared at the steel doors as the elevator came to a stop. "I'll
keep that in mind."
They stepped out and began walking towards the hangar while they
waited for the Commander to arrive. Several of Ethan and Zara's
soldiers were ready and armed, in preparation for his arrival. Zara
herself was armored up as well, her plasma rifle in hand was she
waited.
Ethan stood at her right, Zara on the opposite side and the soldiers
spread out and facing the skyranger ramp, they waited for it to open.
A few seconds later the ramp opened with a hiss and lowered to the
ground with a loud clang.
The EXALT soldiers didn't raise their weapons, but they were
definitely tense as the Commander slowly strode down the ramp,
also without a weapon in his hand. But as opposed to her, the
Commander had come prepared for the worst. Clad in the silver
armor Zara described, minus the helmet, he also had a kind of sniper
rifle and laser weapon also attached to his back. He was definitely
one who commanded attention, as his eyes bored into hers as he
approached.
"This is the main hub of EXALT operations," Saudia said. "We need
the best possible."
"I'd imagine so," the Commander agreed. "And if the descriptions I've
heard were correct, it is rather ornate."
Saudia raised an eyebrow. "And just where did you hear that?"
"And I think you want to show off your base," he responded evenly.
"But you're also correct. Give me the tour."
The Bastion
"How long has this been here?" He asked as they stepped into
another hallway. "Construction in conditions like this couldn't have
been easy."
"It was a smart position," the Commander nodded. "No one would
think to look out here, although it makes it rather… conspicuous for
anyone stumbling on it accidentally."
Saudia took the jab in stride, mostly because it was true. "For what
we do, that is a necessity."
The Commander looked away from the painting directly to her. "That
is a solution, yes. But that is unnecessarily risky and also ignores
history."
His tone turned thoughtful. "It doesn't have to be all or nothing. The
best way to placate the public isn't to take their options away, but
control which options they can choose from. So no matter who 'wins'
it will be someone who you are comfortable with."
He did have a point, but she wasn't entirely sure that was the right
answer. Still, it showed a surprising amount of knowledge about the
subject and human psychology. "I see you've thought about this."
She walked up beside him and looked upon the painting herself.
"Yes, in particular that one was done during World War II."
That seemed to interest him, even though his reaction was just a
raised eyebrow. "So what moment was this, then? I assume this was
when EXALT decided to intervene?"
The picture simply depicted the heads of the families around a table,
one member pointing at a map showing Allied and Axis territory.
"When EXALT decided to ensure that the Allies won the war."
"From the other paintings, it seems like EXALT isn't the original
name of this organization," the Commander noted, as they continued
forward. "Am I wrong?"
"No," Saudia answered. "The name is only a variable that will be
changed when the time is right. EXALT is the latest incarnation, and
when we see it's unusable, we will simply change it to something
else. The Illuminati, Free Masons, Templars, all were aliases at one
point or another for us. When people began making too many
connections, we simply discredited the names and moved on, while
building up the legends you hear today."
Saudia deliberately kept her face neutral. "Just because you claim
we're EXALT does not make us the actual conspiracy to the public. It
can be spun to work for us, despite how much of a setback it is."
"Unlikely," Saudia stated flatly. "It will be difficult, but you simply can't
wipe us out like a hostile army. That's not how we work, and we still
have influence where it matters."
"I'm well aware of that," the Commander smiled. "You can't be
completely killed. But you can be set back decades, if not more.
Besides, you lack influence in one major organization."
"XCOM."
Saudia just stared him directly into his yellow-rimmed eyes. "Should I
consider that a threat?"
The elevator door slid open and he followed her until they arrived at
her office. She held a hand before it, indicating he could enter. "After
you, Commander."
"Of course," he walked inside and she followed, though not before
turning and locking the door.
"I agree," Saudia nodded. "Now that we've betrayed them, it's
probably only a matter of time before they retaliate against us."
"And you will lose," the Commander stated firmly. "Here, at least. But
I assume you know that."
"Yes."
"But in the event that we win against the aliens, the question will be
what happens next," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "I
will not allow the world to be controlled by a shadow government,
and as such will do everything in my power to remove organizations
like yours from the world. That is an outcome I doubt you want."
Saudia pursed her lips. "And doing that will ensure that the world
devolves into chaos. That is an outcome I doubt you want."
"A simple one," he answered, raising a finger. "But before that, I want
to return to your goal. To put it bluntly, what you hope to achieve is
impossible with the methods you use."
"And that is why you'll fail," the Commander concluded. "You can't
hide in the shadows forever. Not if you actually want to make a
difference. You can't maintain anonymity and control the world. Too
much influence and manipulation and you get people's attention, too
little and any progress you make is limited at best, or subject to
failure."
"The most complex plans are more likely to fail," the Commander
continued, not fazed by what she'd said. "You are always at risk of
failing to successfully convince your proxy, or one bad election to
see all your progress in a country gone. And that's just democratic
nations. Your methods would be useless in a place like North Korea
or Israel."
Saudia sighed. "Do you really think setbacks don't happen? They do,
but we expect them. Our objective is not impossible to accomplish."
"Let's move to your best case," the Commander said. "You somehow
win and establish your government via proxies. The truth is that it
won't last. Eventually someone is going to discover you, and as it is
now, once your anonymity is gone, you won't be able to hide again."
"Then I'm curious," Saudia said coldly. "What exactly do you propose
to do? Control it directly?"
"That may be what you do," Saudia said. "But there are just as many
risks in what you propose."
There wasn't a point lying about that. "Of course we do, as well as
the United Nations itself."
"A good start," he nodded. "Were you aware of the location of our
base?"
She saw where this was going, and had fortunately prepared her
answers ahead of time. "We were, and before you ask, yes we were
the ones to give it to the aliens."
She wasn't intimidated now. She'd passed a test with him and he
was only doing this to make a point. "But you're not."
"No," he answered, relaxing and holstering the pistol. "I'm not. This
time, at least. The only reason for that is that the aliens are a bigger
problem, and I cannot afford to lose resources that can help us win.
In this case, that is EXALT."
"Then perhaps you should get to the point," Saudia said. "What do
you want?"
Taking the document, she went over to her chair, sat down, and
began reading.
The document was actually shorter than she expected for something
this grand in scope.
Shaking her head in disbelief, she set the document gently on the
table. "How did you convince so many to… join you? The United
States? North Korea?"
"People are a lot more cooperative when the future of our species is
at stake," the Commander said, clearly amused. "I knew that the only
way to survive would be to unite, and unification cannot just be
alliances between countries. The world needs a true United Nations.
One with actual power and authority. We need to stop thinking of
ourselves in terms of country, and instead as a species. All human."
"Highly debatable," the Commander said dryly. "But that isn't what's
important right now. But I take it you approve of the structure?"
"There's only one thing that isn't clear," Saudia said. "The leader.
The Chancellor. I assume you've decided on someone?"
"You?"
The Commander chucked. "You are a risk, but I need someone with
your experience. You managed to keep an organization of thousands
of people hidden for years, as well as manipulated countless world
events. You even managed to fight us successfully for a time, and
had you not allied with the aliens, I suspect I never would have
learned of you. More importantly, I believe that you want to improve
humanity, even if our methods differ. But like it or not, I need
someone like that. I may not like you, but I can respect and work with
you, despite what you've done."
"And what does this translate to?" Saudia asked. "An advisor in
ADVENT?"
"Incorrect," the Commander said, raising a hand. "I don't want you to
work with ADVENT."
Oh. She frowned, trying to figure what he was doing. If that was the
case, then what the-
Saudia blinked, not sure if she'd heard correctly. She paused for a
few seconds, shock and surprise coursing through her in equal
measure. She had to have misheard. "Did you just-"
All the heads of the families now looked and felt similar to her when
the Commander had first told her what he wanted. Shocked,
disbelief, uncertainty, wondering what the catch could possibly be.
She'd known he never did anything without reason, but his
explanation for it was shockingly simple: He believed she would be
the most useful. At this point she was even unsure that there was a
subtler motive beyond necessity.
But still…
Putting the leader of a group that had once fought against him was…
surprising. She would have never suspected that his pragmatism
would work in their favor.
But here they were, seated around the familiar wooden table with a
white document sitting in the middle. Their future, and, as things
looked now, what would be the last meeting of EXALT.
"He needs us," Zara stated flatly. "Think about who we're dealing
with. There isn't some deeper motive here, nor do I think it's a trap.
The fact is that EXALT is more useful in positions of power than
simple disbandment."
"But enough," Saudia finished. "And with each of you and your
families embedded in the organization, we can ensure that retain
enough influence."
"I agree," Hasina nodded. "The Commander was smart enough not
to turn the power completely to the public. There are checks and
balances everywhere, all built around competency, efficiency and
professionalism."
"The President herself supports this," Elizabeth pointed out. "And the
aliens might scare the European nations into joining, if only for
protection."
"And I'd tend to agree, were this not involving aliens," Saudia
nodded. "People are getting scared. They are scared. If there is any
time to unite the world… this is it. Besides… I think I know how
President Treduant will be joining ADVENT. Elizabeth, remember
that bill?"
"I certainly do," she smiled as she also picked up on what Saudia
had determined. "And the good president is very clever, provided
everything goes to her plan."
"I understand your point," Saudia said, looking at Yakov. "But the
Commander has assured me that ADVENT is not, nor designed to
be just a 'United Nations.' It's not simply a political body, it is a
military one. And above all else, that goal is to protect and advance
humanity. If other nations throw that into question… there are means
to deal with them. Legally, of course."
Yakov whistled. "He is bold. I did not expect him to be this ruthless,
even knowing his nature."
"He has only set the framework in place," Saudia corrected, the
corners of her lips curling up. "What actually is executed is up to me.
And if I must annex a country to protect more, I will do it, and it will
be legal ."
"We know what your position will be," Hasina said, changing the
subject. "But what of the rest of us? Or has the Commander not
decided, or relegated that to you?"
"I think our place is clear," Darian said. "We head ADVENT's
research and development branches."
"I don't think this is going to be quite as easy as you think," Hasina
warned bluntly, frowing at both eager men. "I'm certain that ADVENT
already has an established R&D branch and engineering. With
people leading them. They aren't just going to let you take over."
"We can deal with that issue if it comes up," Darian answered
smoothly. "ADVENT is in the beginning stages. Nothing is concrete.
Worst case, we ensure our people are high-ranking that won't be an
issue."
"Unless you want to make my life difficult, you won't see this as a
pure power grab," Saudia warned icily towards Darian. "We're going
to have to work with people outside of EXALT, and we will have to
get used to not everything being under our direct control. I will try to
ensure your places are secured, but there are no guarantees here.
Now," she turned the wider table. "Elizabeth, as ADVENT does not
have an established intelligence branch, I want you to establish
one."
Elizabeth smiled, relaxing the overall mood. "Will do, Director. It'll be
a change, but one I'm looking forward to."
Elizabeth frowned. "I don't see you being a regular soldier. The only
place-ah." She trailed off as she got Zara's implication.
Interesting. It appeared Zara had been more impressed with XCOM
than she'd let on. "I'll see what I can do," Saudia said.
"Very well," Saudia said, turning her attention to the rest of them. "I
think it's clear that our purpose has been fulfilled. When ADVENT is
established, our goal will be complete. This was admittedly not the
way any of us thought it would happen… but it did."
The world was theirs, and now they needed to protect it.
The transition was coming along very well. As of now the Citadel had
been evacuated by all essential staff and all important personnel and
components were at the newly christened Praesidium. The new base
of XCOM operations, hidden from the world.
Defense . That was what the translation said. Fitting, as names went,
and it did mark something of a new chapter for XCOM; a new phase
in a war that would happen soon. Protection and defense from alien
invaders, that was what XCOM had been conceived for. But the
priorities were going to shift to defense for the onslaught that was
coming.
Naming aside, the former Sectoid base was already prepared for
everything he wanted. It was very ironic that the experimentation
labs that had held humans were now going to be used on the aliens
themselves. Some reconstruction had been necessary, but the
original architecture had been kept very much intact.
Most, but not all. There were some areas that could only be
accessed by certain people.
The door to the holding cells slid open, and the Commander walked
through and directly to the first cell on his right. Patricia was already
waiting for him, looking through the one-way glass in on their
captive, the Runi'baranth'yalsar as he called himself. Patricia was
definitely focused on him, although the Commander didn't sense
anything from the alien but calm.
She handed him a tablet. "I divided the captives into reliable and
unreliable. Despite what he said, not all of them are… cooperative .
Some actual believe they could use the opportunity to sabotage us,
and others simply despise us." Her lips curled up in amusement at
that.
She pursed her lips. "I'm wary of utilizing any of them unless we
have a way to ensure their loyalty. When I say reliable, I mean they
will cooperate for their survival. Not that they won't turn later. I would
personally recommend that we utilize them as repositories of
information for now, and only allow them to participate in XCOM
when Vahlen completes the Manchurian Project."
The Commander nodded, that was more or less what he'd been
thinking of. "I agree, although I think allowing one or two might be
useful to see how they integrate with the staff. Vahlen would also be
heavily monitoring them, and it would be a good test to see just how
willing they are."
"They know their own species best," the Commander said with a
smile. "I imagine they won't want to cause unnecessary
complications, and may be the motivation they need to give their full
cooperation. If they refuse…" he shrugged. "They will be unreliable."
"Fair enough," Patricia nodded. "We might have an issue with the
soldiers though. Even the reliable ones won't have much use to use.
Instead they will take up unnecessary space."
The Commander nodded as he looked into the cell. "I know. But I
think they can be useful for another idea I have."
"Which is?"
"And how are the Furies integrating?" The Commander asked. "Are
they mostly recovered?"
The doors to the alien captives were one such instance of keeping
the psionic locks in place. The Commander raised a hand over the
console, and put some psionic energy into it, and a few seconds
later it slid open soundlessly. The security was still somewhat weak
to him, since any psion could walk up and open it, but Shen was
taking a look at how to add additional measures. But for now, it was
sufficient, as there were no rogue psions he had to worry about.
The alien didn't blink his glowing blue eyes as he stared directly at
the Commander. "I'd imagine so. If you don't mind, I want to know
what you've decided to do with my people."
"You said create," Patricia noted. "You mean that the Furies might
not have originally been sensitive?"
" Possibly," the alien stressed. "That's just it. We didn't know . And
that was what the experiments with the Furies turned into. If they
were even sensitive to begin with. Unfortunately we weren't able to
replicate the procedure EXALT used perfectly. All our subjects died.
Knowing what EXALT did, I now wonder if they even gave us the
right formula to begin with. It would explain a lot."
The Commander was silent for a few moments. "In the event that the
Furies weren't originally psionic… what are the implications?"
"Like the Vitakara," the Commander finished slowly. "Tell me, did you
report to an Ethereal?"
"Thank you for your cooperation," the Commander said, standing up.
"You've given me a lot to think about."
"So what will you do with me?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.
"Keep me here? Execute me?"
"Neither," the Commander said, shaking his head. "Keeping you here
would be a waste, as would execution. You've cooperated and
earned something more suited to your talents. My Head Researcher
will be coming to speak with you soon."
The alien's lips twitched. "I see. Then I will be sure to expect her."
Abby was actually glad her position here was more… familiar than
the last one. Many of the UN officers and security personnel had
died in the New York attack. Which was good for her because it
opened up a lot of positions.
Abby wasn't exactly clear on what Zhang was planning for the rest of
the major UN buildings. He might ignore the one in Kenya, but the
ones in Geneva and Vienna would almost certainly be dealt a similar
blow. But the most important was the UN headquarters itself. With
the world leadership dead, the UN would quickly fall apart and allow
room for ADVENT to be quickly established.
Privately, she was worried that people would make the connections
quickly and begin asking questions about the timing. Pinning one
attack on the aliens was easy, two reasonable. Three might be
pushing it a bit too far. Zhang probably realized that as well, which
was why she believed that he'd employ a less public option like
assassination. Something to place the blame on Zararch agents.
Or maybe he didn't care how it looked. Once ADVENT was
established, what people thought didn't really matter. They wouldn't
be able to do anything about it, or risk being labeled a traitor or alien
sympathizer.
Considering what she was going to be doing, it was pretty clear what
was going to go down. The people here didn't deserve what was
coming.
But it was deemed necessary, and she followed her orders. It was
what Ruth would have done.
Times like these she wondered if she should feel so normal about it.
She was interacting with people multiple times a day that were going
to die, some of them by her hand. And yet she'd accepted it. Kept
her distance, but not so much they became suspicious. It was the
oddest feeling, surrounded by dead men and women walking her.
Alive, but with expiration dates.
The man she was working with casually leaned against the wall by
her. Ciro Hector, someone she suspected was from Mexico, judging
by his Hispanic features, dark skin and accent. He reminded her of
Kalonymous in terms of personality. A friendly guy who would kill you
without hesitation if ordered. Unlike her, he frequently interacted with
the people around him, his reasoning being that it gave him more
accurate information on how to kill them.
Cold, but practical.
One reason she was being very careful with what she said to him.
His methods were unnecessary convoluted as well. There were
better ways to carry out mass execution.
"Then don't rely on variables," she said. "Sometimes the best plans
are the simplest."
She slowly turned to glare at him. "I'm a surgeon, Ciro. I think I know
more about health than you. In fact, I don't think you're taking this
seriously enough. Tell me I'm being too serious when your whole
team is killed, yeah?"
"My shift is now," she said, pushing herself off the wall. "Go mingle,
or whatever you do. But remember what our mission is… and what
happens if we fail."
"It was built by the Sectoids," Patricia said, her eyes closed as she
rested her head against his shoulders. "I think it's interesting."
But overall, none of the soldiers around her felt uneasy . Maybe a bit
uncertain, like Creed, but optimistic. Content. Some of them had
fought to take this very base. Some had lost friends. Terrible things
had happened here, things of evil. But in all honesty, going off pure
history, the Citadel was just as tainted.
Maybe that was the wrong outlook, but after seeing how much it took
to just survive an Ethereal, she didn't see another way this war could
be fought. The Commander may have been a war criminal, but in all
honesty, all of them were. They were complicit whenever they signed
off on XCOM's many illegal and unethical experiments,
interrogations or operations.
But they had been necessary. Shen, Van Doorn, Bradford and even
Jackson, they might not have liked it, but deep down, she suspected
the reason they'd never put up a public fight was because ultimately,
there was no objectively better choice.
And it was going to get worse before it got better. The Demeter
Contingency would be the end of the beginning and the beginning of
the end.
She sighed against Creed. And the man with her had no idea what
was coming. The invasion, sure, but not the reformation of the world
as he knew it. She did wonder how he'd take everything. ADVENT.
EXALT being dissolved. The United Nations being destroyed.
Would he even suspect that she knew about any of this? And if he
did… what would he think?
Not that she would ever read his mind without permission, but she
would definitely be able to tell what he thought of her. He couldn't
exactly lie or play it off. Fortunately, he knew better.
It was somewhat funny, looking back on that. She hadn't joined out
of patriotism or anything like that. But because she wanted to do
something. Make a small difference in the world.
And now she was one of the architects of its reshaping. She would
determine the future of psionics in the world, provided they ended up
winning, and likely well before that. That amount of responsibly oddly
enough didn't deter her at all. She was surrounded by people she
trusted with her life. No matter what happened, the people of XCOM
would always support each other.
That was only one part of what made them a force to be reckoned
with, against aliens or not.
"I have some ideas," the Commander admitted with a smile. "But I
am not Chancellor. XCOM will definitely have a place here, but you
will be making the final decisions."
Ah yes. The reality was settling around her. This was real and she
would be leading the world going forward. She'd never really thought
this day would come. It was surreal, and yet it didn't quite feel
different from directing EXALT. It was only that the organization she
was to lead was larger and more… diverse .
"That is for them to share," the Commander said, his smile turning
cold. "And it isn't important. Lead them well and they won't care who
or where you came from. All they know is that you're experienced,
competent and neutral. The right person for the job."
Saudia decided to simply accept that and move on. She doubted
anyone would oppose the Commander's appointment, especially
since this was his idea. But it did mean that she was likely going to
have to earn respect here. A challenge she was, oddly enough,
looking forward to. It was as much to prove to herself as them that
she could do this. The goal of EXALT was to control the world, now
she actually had to follow through.
She was definitely going to have some catching up to do. But with
this much information at her disposal… she was excited. For the first
time in a long time, she was genuinely excited for the future. The
closest she had come was cautiously optimistic, but nothing beyond
that.
A man stood near the end of the corridor, talking with several
ADVENT officers. At least she assumed they were officers by their
red armor and elaborate helmets. Her lips twitched at that. The
helmets were unnecessarily ornate. A redesign would be in order,
otherwise it was a waste of resources and they needed every alloy
they could to supply an entire army.
"Greetings," the man said, turning to them. "I presume you are
Chancellor Vyandar?"
Iseul Gwan gave a small smile. "Not many would share that opinion,
but I appreciate it."
If there was one person who the Commander had probably told
about her identity, it was probably him, because he would be smart
enough to actually do something with it.
He didn't salute, but did incline his head before walking off. Saudia
stared off after him, analyzing him as he left. "Iseul is blunt, but he
probably takes the aliens as seriously as us," the Commander said.
"But I suspect you know to be careful with him. He knows how to use
people and is very good at getting his way."
"Are there any more reports of alien activity?" She asked after a few
seconds as they walked. "Any planned retaliation moves?"
"No," the Commander pursed his lips. "Even if we did deal a blow,
the lack of response is concerning. Which unfortunately indicates
that they're planning for a major attack. Possibly the invasion itself."
The older man turned and appraised her far more critically than
Iseul. "Chancellor. I hope that you perform as well as the
Commander said. It's one thing to have a leader I don't agree with,
and another thing to have one I know nothing about."
She fixed him with a piercing stare, which had more effect since she
was taller than him. "Mr. President, if you knew who I was, I would
not be doing my job."
He turned away and strode off. Saudia shook her head and they
proceeded forward. "Friendly bunch."
"Would you have preferred I tell them who you really are?" The
Commander asked. "Do you think that will make them trust you
more? Do a good job and you won't have to worry about them.
You've supposedly worked for this your whole life. Prove it."
The room was empty, allowing her to see the control center for the
world. The walls had computers, monitors and analytical equipment
along them, with plenty of room for analysts and technicians to sit
and monitor essential information. On the far wall were several
interconnected screens displaying a map of the world, which she
immediately noted could be broken down by population, military size
and political affiliation.
All alone, silent except for the humming of the computers, she
walked up to the hologlobe, looking up at it almost in childlike
wonder. She let her hand graze over the shining steel base, trying
not to scuff it. This was it, the dream, what EXALT had always
wanted, accomplished. Once things calmed down… she'd have to
visit father. See him one last time, so he knew beyond all doubt that
they'd done it, despite what had happened.
"We did it, father," she murmured as she gazed up at the hologlobe.
"We won."
Time to begin putting the final pieces in motion. Some time had
passed and everyone was hard at work preparing for the coming war
while the aliens were still quiet. Saudia was making the rounds to the
various member nations and it seemed to be going well so far. He
knew that she'd already firmly established ADVENT Engineering and
R&D divisions which were already hard at work.
ADVENT Intelligence had also been created, and Zhang was already
in communication with them, especially as they drew closer to
Demeter. The military was a bit harder, since the logistics of
everything made it difficult to organize without drawing suspicion. But
nearly everything was in place, all that was needed was official
unification and the divisions could be officially formed.
The door hissed open behind him and Jackson came through, right
on time. The new Situation Room had been converted to a similar
one to the Citadel, although the computers were now equipped with
alien tech which had made everything much faster . The holotable
was larger, though still sat in the middle of the room and it had the
capability to expand holographic projection throughout the entire
room.
He wasn't complaining.
"Ready and waiting," she answered with a grim nod. "Let's get this
started."
The Commander turned to the screens at the back of the room and
watched as they flashed and finally revealed the Speaker as
unchanged as ever. "Commander," he greeted, inclining his head. "It
is… good… to hear from you. Much appears to have changed since
we last communicated."
"Indeed," The Commander agreed, clasping his hands behind his
back while Jackson stood off to the side. "We have been busy while
preparing for the aliens as well as discussions on how to handle
Brazil and Israel."
" The Council would like to remind you that interference is outside
your jurisdiction," the Speaker said. "Discussions are being had."
" That we can," the Speaker affirmed. "One war is troubling, let alone
two. There are… bigger… issues to worry about."
"I'm glad you see it that way," the Commander said. "Which is why I
think it's time we discussed the future of XCOM. In person."
" After everything I find it hard to believe you want to involve the
United Nations in anything," the Speaker commented skeptically.
"Let alone the Council."
" Remember that it will not just be to us," the Speaker warned. "You
will be before the whole world. Not everyone will be comfortable with
a powerful independent military, even one devoted to our protection.
There was a reason that the Council is primarily in charge of XCOM,
because not everyone would approve of such an endeavor."
" We shall see," the Speaker said, lacing his fingers together. "It has
also come to our attention that the majority of XCOM has… moved…
to a location that has not been disclosed to us. The Council would
like to know where XCOM is currently located."
" I see," the Speaker answered. "Then it appears you should come
sooner than later. The Council will be in contact with your Central
Officer to establish times."
"Well, I wasn't going to tell them the real reason," he said. "Or do you
think that would have worked?"
"And ADVENT to be created in its place," she nodded. "I really hope
things work out how you plan."
He gave her a wry grin. "I doubt it will work out completely, but I'm
confident that things will mostly go according to plan."
The Commander smiled. "You give them exactly what they want."
Supplementary Material
OVERVIEW: In the event that the Council, the United Nations (UN),
or the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) becomes a
hindrance or threat to the stability of XCOM or the world, they are to
be removed, crippled or neutralized in a quick and efficient manner
so not to destabilize the global balance as much as otherwise.
PHASE 1: PREPARATION
3. NATO: Unlike the Council and United Nations, efforts will be made
to integrate NATO into the replacement world government, and as
such any plans will go into effect if NATO becomes an unstable
element after the removal of the United Nations.
In preparation for that event, key figures in NATO will be located, and
based on psychological profiling, will be marked for potential
assassination to limit potential action. The psychological profiling will
take into account previous actions, race, gender, nation, political
leaning and affiliation and previous military service.
Sydney, Australia
Robert Haynes sighed and reached over to the toolbox to pick up the
one Brandon was pointing at. "Here you go."
But something seemed off. He hadn't been able to put his finger on it
all morning, but everything seemed really, really weird. Not quite
surreal, like a dream. But distinctly off . He had no idea what it was,
everyone was acting the same… but also not quite the same. Almost
as if they were faking it.
"Hold, this, will you?" Brandon asked, motioning to the pipe. "Just
need to tighten it."
Either this wasn't Brandon, or Brandon had been lying to him ever
since they'd met.
He didn't know that he'd figured it out. Robert swallowed and gave a
nervous smile. "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."
Robert didn't give him a chance to fight back and quickly brought the
hammer down again and again until the hammer head was buried in
the skull. Shaking all over, he didn't initially notice the blood
splattering his arms and chest, but didn't care at the moment. They
had to know he knew now.
But where?
The ground shook and he heard an explosion. Oh god, it was
starting. Whatever it was, it was starting.
They were under attack… but it looked like the flying disks were
defending the city. Not attacking it. Because… the government was
attacking Sydney? But….but why ? He looked down the street and
stumbled back into the wall as he saw the army approaching.
Hulking humanoids clad in green armor, pinkish skin and beady eyes
on their alien faces.
Mutons. He'd seen them on TV. Never expected to see one in real
life. But the news had seemed to get them all wrong. If they were so
bad, why were they attacking all the obvious fakes? The weapons in
their hands that shot out green projectiles were only targeting the
fleeing fakes, somehow exposed by the aliens.
One thing was sure, the alien leading these mutons was unlike
anything he'd ever seen before. It towered over the mutons, twelve
feet easily. It was clad in a silver armor, all four of its arms encased
in bracers, gauntlets and steel. A blood-red cape fell from the
shoulders, above which sat a helmet that reminded him of a knight;
ornate yet functional.
He gasped and was lifted into the air and flung forward. Robert
suddenly turned to see the alien charging with a speed the belied his
size, drew back the sword, and stabbed forward, impaling the
oncoming soldier in the chest. Wasting no time, it jumped forward
and slashed down upon the group of soldiers who were scattering.
One was instantly decapitated, and the rest began firing. With no
hesitation, the alien singled out two of the soldiers and stormed
towards them as they fired seemingly useless bullets. With no
finesse it smashed the sword into one, slicing deep into her chest
from the shoulder, and at the same time it raised an opposite hand
and the remaining soldier was lifted into the air. The hand closed into
a fist and the head imploded into bloody chunks.
It was actually very helpful. Where there were aliens, it was safe.
It made a lot more sense why XCOM was so secretive now. They
were trying to hide the truth. The aliens weren't here to conquer or
attack, they were here to save them. If they were so bad, why was
he still alive?
There were a lot more people here now, men, women, children, all
with blank, dazed expressions on their faces. Trying to process the
reality that they had almost died horribly. How they would have died
if the aliens hadn't intervened.
But hope was in sight. There was some kind of massive alien
transport on the ground, right before the auction house. All around
him were dead people, fakes, he supposed. But the amount of aliens
was increased as well. No instructions were given because they
were so obvious. Board the ship to find shelter.
Robert did notice one alien different from the others. It stood just off
to the side of the ramp, flanked by two muton-like creatures in red
armor and ornate helmets. They towered over the smaller being in
the middle. Although even this small alien was at least eight feet
high, and cloaked in some kind of orange robe that obscured the
face.
Go inside .
He knew that.
Australia was lost, and buying the rest of the world precious time to
prepare.
And it seemed that they were also going back to their old methods
as a town in France had just gone dark. Not only just gone dark, but
they'd been explicitly warned that aliens were here right before the
line had been cut off.
"How long do you think it will take them?" Jerra Ixe asked, one of the
newer soldiers from Mexico. A quiet woman, but an excellent field
medic. Of all of them, she seemed the most distressed by the
carnage from the attacks. Not surprising given her profession, but
she could keep her composure.
" Psion Trask, we're approaching the LZ now," Big Sky warned as
the skyranger lights flashed red. "No signals coming from the town.
But I do see bodies."
"Get ready!" She ordered, standing up and walking to the end as the
skyranger leveled out. Once the soldiers gathered behind her, the
ramp opened with a hiss and ropes fell to the ground. Patricia
grasped one and let herself slide down until she hit the hard
concrete.
The people around here weren't dead and there was something else
here. A psion.
An Ethereal.
They rushed off and knelt beside some on the street. "They're alive,"
Jerra muttered. "They don't seem hurt… just unconscious."
"Same," Blake confirmed, standing up. "But I don't think it's natural."
" I got it," he confirmed grimly. "Do you want to pull out?"
Patricia looked around the town filled with unconscious bodies. "Not
yet… this was clearly a message for us. I want to see why it was
left."
The sounds of their breathing were the only things they heard as
they kept going. Turning down streets and signs, as Patricia led them
closer to the source of the power. And it was close, close enough
she could touch it's mind if she wanted. But not yet, she didn't want
to give their exact location away yet.
"Ethereal!"
Standing in the middle of the street stood the alien. It reminded her
of the Ravaged One if he had been restored to his full glory. The
curved and styled silver helm with the gaping middle was pristine
and bore no scars or gouges in the metal. It's robes were a deep
blue with silver streaking down them, looking like they had just been
created.
It's arms were tucked inside the robes, but aside from that, she saw
it easily towered over her. At least three meters tall, even from this
distance. It was already facing them, so it had clearly known they
were here. But there was an aura around it, an effect that elicited
feelings of safety, fortitude, and defense.
"On it!" Carmelita yelled and charged forward while the rest of them
raised their weapons as Patricia let hers drop and gathered her
power.
Lasers and lead sped towards the Ethereal who withdrew an arm
covered in a blue and silver sleeve and simply lowered it in front of
itself, palm forward. A purple shield appeared, absorbing the initial
barrage and the barrier grew to completely encircle the Ethereal.
They didn't let up the attack, instead moving to being circling around
it as Patricia launched her attack on its mind. It was easy to direct
her power to in the sea of unconscious minds, but that didn't make it
easy. She immediately found out it was an impenetrable fortress,
one completely sealed off in a way she hadn't ever seen before.
She felt nothing from it. No emotions or stray thoughts. She could
sense the power radiating off it, but nothing specific.
The Ethereal withdrew all his arms and extended them to the
attacking soldiers, purple energy encasing them. Patricia suddenly
found herself unable to move, and she saw the others were the
same way, sheathed in a transparent bubble encasing each of them.
Stasis fields.
The Ethereal withdrew the arm that had been projecting the shield
around it and the purple shield vanished, and it turned its head
directly to her, and then she was under attack. It wasn't painful, but
she hadn't expected the ferocity of the attack. The efficiency . It was
direct. Focused . Her mental defenses were a cracking wall she
hadn't even known had been damaged.
It suddenly broke through, and she literally saw her life flash before
her eyes as the Ethereal seemingly sifted through her thoughts at a
speed that might have been seconds or hours. But she was witness
of every agonizing second of it. If she hadn't know it was happening,
she suspected she wouldn't have felt a thing.
But there was that little bit of pressure in her head that didn't go
away.
Then it was gone and they all collapsed to the ground as the stasis
fields vanished.
When she was about three meters away the Ethereal turned his
head to her. "Put your weapons down, Psion Trask. You will not need
them." His voice was deep, echoing in her mind and reverberating
the air around him. Goosebumps broke out on her upon hearing it.
Because she now knew who it was. The Commander had described
his voice perfectly.
One arm withdrew and Shun and Mordecai raised their weapons,
only to be waved down by Patricia. The opposite arm withdrew, and
so did the lower two, all raised up to signal non-aggression. She
watched in disbelief as he slowly lowered himself to his knees,
though even that only lowered him to eye level with her.
Was he actually…?
A/N: Yes, a cliffhanger, I know. But I didn't really see a better way to
end it… and now it's all done. The Atlas Protocal is completed, close
to a year later than when I first started it. Kind of hard to believe, and
it's been without a doubt one of the highlights of that year to actually
write out. This ended up being a lot bigger than I'd originally
expected, both in word count and in the number or readers. A
sincere thank you to everyone who provided feedback in any way, be
it through reviews, PMs or email. All of it was useful to me and I hope
you can see that I do my best to put that feedback into actual
practice. May take a few chapters, but it does happen.
So, now looking forward. There is quite a bit I'm looking forward to
writing, which includes but is certainly not limited to: ADVENT, the
Ethereals, Vitakara, warfare geopolitics, and a lot of other stuff. It's
not going to be an easy road for ADVENT to unite humanity, and
XCOM defend it, but they have the means to make it happen,
whatever the cost. It should go without saying that the scope is going
to be (Somehow) larger, encompassing much more than Earth, and
not quite in the way you might expect. It should kinda be obvious by
now, but don't be expecting the regular Enemy Within ending. That of
course is being reworked to fit better in the world i've constructed.
But I think that the changes will be as well-recieved as some others.
Now when to expect it? Probably no earlier than two weeks from
now, if that. I'm going to be spending time establishing (Internally)
exactly how everything works, specific species history, noteable
characters, enemy units. Not to mention the story outline itself, and
the POV characters I'll be writing. As this will be the last book in the
trilogy, I fully intend to take my time and do it right. But I can promise
that I will do my best to make it worth it. As it's looking right now, it
will likely surpass the Atlas Protocol in length but that really does
remain to be seen.
But now I do have a request for all the readers: Please give your
feedback on the Atlas Protocol and trilogy as a whole. Feedback is
critical to authors and I'm no exception. A few ideas have come
about as a result of conversations I've had between other readers
and the story probably won't be as good without them. So tell me if
you like it/didn't like it, what worked, what didn't, what could be
improved, thoughts on the various characters/organizations/aliens,
etc. You get the idea. And if that feedback is a scathing breakdown
of the story, than by all means write it. I'll take it just as seriously as
the others (Provided it's well thought-out and reasoned, of course). I
don't hide negative feedback, and ultimately it does usually prove to
be sometimes more useful in the long run. But either way, it will help
ensure that the Advent Directive will be the best that I can do.
For some closing thoughts, I can safely say that I'm happy with my
work here, and do consider it ultimately a superior work to the Hades
Contingency. I've improved and want to continue doing so, and I
believe that will happen. Thanks once again to everyone for sticking
with and reading my story, I do this just as much for you now as for
myself. Thank you.
-Xabiar