X-COM Season 4 Role-Play Journals

[PrismaCube]

Soldier Name: Caroline Southway
Rank: Squaddie
Class: Support

***LAST REPORTS FROM SQUADDIE CAROLINE SOUTHWAY***

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I'm on my own here, Gorefest and the newbie left me here.
Holy Shit!

A zombie jumps over the broken wall right in front of Caroline. You can hear a ton of noise coming from the other side.

"Guys! Where the fuck are you going?!"

Fuck this I'm heading back to the Skyranger

I turned to see another one of those things near the two.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!
Instead of running I turn and shoot at it, giving the other two a chance to run.

My mistake...

I saw one running straight for me.

That Speed.

I wanted to run, but, I knew it was to late. And for some reason I was not scared, yet I felt like giving this alien a hug.

*Splat*

***End***

Suddenly I was rushed into the air, I had butterflies in my stomach and then... and then I felt nothing. I looked down to see the alien holding me up in the air. There was a line going through what I assume must be my body, I saw...a lot, hearth liver stomach bladder. It was disgusting. My instincts to puke came up, yet only blood came out of my mouth. I have never seen so much blood...

With Brute forces I hit the ground and everything went dark. I saw nothing...

When I opened my eyes again I was lying there where I died, I heard a voice, it wasn't human, but I could understand it. It was telling me about my failure and how I disappointed it. Then it stooped. I stood up and started to move. There was something inside me, it was... it was like all the pain from my lifeless body was being cured, something was healing me, something was chaining me. I don't know where I was going or why but I saw my old family and some new family members.

There was Ritofuto, he looked different than me but somehow he was the same as me. Oh and Gorefest was also there he reminded me of something that I used to be...Human? I think? There was also my father. (Carolines killer, not her real father)

As I was walking towards something I felt my body becoming really tight so I decided to break out of my shell. I felt it as if new like sprang into me, like a new born, it was great. I also heard it, the hive it was like a single mind. I heard my family and friends from miles away, some where in another galaxy even. Yet there is something strange about me, I seem to be quite bigger than my other family members, some started calling me mother. There was also something that I couldn't get out of my head a word, "England" I wonder what it means. I only know that I'm very hungry at the moment and I see all this pray running around. The voice told me to kill and consume, to spread my gift and to breed, to breed and take control over my family for this planet. I was not sure what it meant, nor did like this voice, its not from my family, yet I have to obey it. I seemed to be able to think on my own unlike the rest of my family, which also leaves me to wonder, where do I come from?

 

[MarineAvenger]

The Last Confession Of James Nightningale

Recording Begins

Well if your listening to this it means I am dead. I have made a lot of mistakes in life, some I am not proud of. I thought that joining this initiative would give me a second chance at life, but it seems that it only led to my death. Let me just say... I could honestly give a rat's ass about how it happened. When I was a kid I thought being a soldier would make me a better person, but it only led me to my downfall. The nightmares, the voices, the sadness that I have felt. I have found redemption though here even after all the bad things. In the relationships I have founded, and the friends I have come to know and love. However few those might be. Oh and Zhang if you manage to hear this I am sorry. I just want to say... I am finally able to go home, and see my brothers again. This is James Nightningale, Over and out.

Recording Ends


So this is what it feels like to die? I remember it so clearly. The monsters running towards me, the spikes through my stomach, the tears rolling down my eyes, and then nothing. It was white. I felt a feeling I had never before. All the pains and worries that plagued me before is now gone. Is this what it feels like to be happy. Huh. I haven't felt that feeling in a long time... a long time. I see my brothers at last but I can't help but feel sad. I may never see the people I have come to know as friends and allies. I often wonder if I will see Caroline is and where ever she may be I would want her to know it was a pleasure. I walk over to my brothers and for the first time in my life... I am not looking back.

 

[Wedgekree]

Cecannia Eirrissach
Assault Sergeant
Mission: 1
Kills: 2

Yitgaddal veyitqaddash shmeh rabba

It had been a disaster. She could tell that much just from the reports. And as Cecannia Eirrissach sat over in the medbay, her ribs still sutured up, her body having bits that had been blasted off regrown and knitted back, all she could think was how that could have been her. That they had sent a squad out composed of Rookies and reserve personnel and they had paid the price.

Beʻalma di vra khir'uteh
veyamlikh malkhuteh

So many dead. Africa in flames. Panic and impotency spreading. And she was not allowed out of the medbay, still listed as critically wounded. And the only one who had been sent she had really known was the sniper. Ritofuto. That had been less the one who welcomed her to base and more the one who had made her show what she could not do. He had welcomed her to the team after the last mission, her first mission. And now all she could do was weep.

beḥayekhon uvyomekhon
uvḥaye dekhol bet yisrael

How could they fight such things? How could they fight such beasts? Cecannia had seen the videos brought back from the mission. Of the zombies which had shambled and had seemed to soak up bullets like a sponge did water. Of those scorpions that had rushed and literally ripped people apart. Of having to target not only civilians but their own soldiers in the field.

beʻagala uvizman qariv veʼimru amen

How could they fight such monsters? Was there any hope for humanity? But they could not give up either. For now, they had to fight on in the memory of those who had been lost. They had to fight.. Because the only other option was not mere subjugation and surrender. But extermination. She had seen what the aliens would do now. They would not be content just seemingly to enslave humanity. But to cull it. Was there any other reason for those beasts and those terror raids now?

yehe shmeh rabba mevarakh
leʻalam ulʻalme ʻalmaya

Over at the Memorial, in a wheelchair then to see the lists then of those she had never known, those she would never get to know, and those who had sacrificed themselves in the hopes of improving humanity.. Cecannia could only hope that it would not be in vain. And that in the end thier names would be up on a wall of heroes who had saved Earth from damnation. And that she could be as brave as they had been.

Yitbarakh veyishtabbaḥ veyitpaar veyitromam
veyitnasse veyithaddar veyitʻalleh veyithallal

Rising from her wheelchair, she spoke then, tears streaming down her face. Speaking in Hebrew, a prayer long since imparted onto her memory then by so many times chanted and spoken. One arm braced at the elbow on the side of the wheelchair as she gave a low bow then over at the board then, starting to overflow then with the pictures of those who had fallen.

shmeh dequdsha berikh hu.
leʻella (lʻella mikkol) min kol birkhata

Countries were leaving them. They were bereft of reserves then, and hiring more soldiers. Would they be feeding them into the fire or would the painfully wrought lessons be something which made them all stronger? Cecannia prayed then, going back to sit over in her chair then, the act of rising in and of itself having been exhausting. She wiped some tears from her face with her good arm. Then steeled herself.

veshirata tushbeḥata veneḥemata
daamiran beʻalma veʼimru amen

And so she spoke the Mourner's Kaddish. Mourning those who had passed. Mourning for those who would pass. Mourning for what would be the state of humanity if they failed. But they could not. The only option otherwise was surrender and extermination. They would not.

They were XCOM.

They were the Extraterrestrial Combat Unit.

They would not stop. They would not surrender.

Vigilo, Confido

 

[Hokucho]

• LOG TIME: 20:50 April 28th 2015

PERSONELL INFORMATION: Corporal Hokuchiyo "Hoku" Ritofuto, Sniper Division.

Feed Activated...

The video link from Hokuchiyo's shoulder-camera blinks to life on the monitor, showing a wall with a few shrubs, and several cars. One man runs by wearing purple armor, followed shortly by a woman in white.

"Confirmed Commander, moving to the top of the truck," says the voice closest to the camera, sounding natural and not radio-chatter. Obviously, this is Hokuchiyo. The camera begins to bob and the wall grows larger as Hokuchiyo moves up with the rest of the squad and Hokuchiyo moves further forward. The camera is obstructed as he climbs the ladder on the side of the delivery truck.

At the crest, the camera sweeps and the camera screen changes to a more focused one as the camera shifts to the S.C.O.P.E-view as Hokuchiyo shoulders his rifle to scan the area, "Negative contacts. Keeping an eye out," Hokuchiyo said as the camera remains fixed in the S.C.O.P.E view, "Gorefest, the winner buys the first meal?" Hokuchiyo asked and laughed, "Everyone keep an eye out, I can't see you from where I am like this quickly."

"I've got a contact!" A male exclaims over the com-link. Hokuchiyo's rifle swings and focuses, "Confirmed" was the reply.

"Gentlemen I don't know how to explain this, but you are... Dealing with zombies," A rather calm and collected, yet wary voice says in amore clear tone then the radio-chatter, but it didn't come from Hokuchiyo, that was the voice of the commander.

"Excuse me? Nevermind... Opening fire!" Hokuchiyo exclaimed over the cacophany of similar lines confirming that they were all engaging.

All rounds hit that were fired.

"More contacts coming from the supermarket!" was the enxt confirmed call, and similarly, the zombie met its demise, then, the one in red rushed inside to try and save someone while everyone else was reloading, "Wait! Don't go i-"

"FUCK WHAT THE HELL?!" was the next exclemation as the one in red quickly ran out of the market and shot at something inside.

In moments, the target in question came into view, it was some kind of spider-like thing that looked like it had cordycepts growing out of it with swords for legs.

Sadly, the target in question was very, very fast, and was upon the one in red in moments and it was skewered by two of the things legs. It was out of vision for a moment and then came up no worse for wear.

There were screams over the radio, "No! No I wanna go home!"

"We need emergency evac now!"

"Winters, Caroline! Get a grip!"

"Damnit, Open fire!" Hokuchiyo yelled.

"On it!" yelled the other sniper, currently out of view as Hokuchiyo took the first shot, and the second shot was landed by Gorefest. The thing died promptly, at least they weren't bullet-immune.

Then something terrible happened on the footage. The soldier in red rose up, a giant hole in his chest.

"Oh jesus fucking christ!" one of the soldiers yelled as the two below slightly in-view of the camera had regained themselves enough to retreat as the once-X-Com-soldier began to shamble towards them. Bullets immidiately sprayed in its direction, thudding into the armor, "This is so fucked up!" Someone called as Hokuchiyo's footage switched back to the shoulder camera as his pistol was drawn and hit the armor, almost harmlessly bouncing off the armor, but puncturing through an arm. Gorefest finished it off it seemed as another set of rounds pierced it.

There was an audible sharp gasp from Hokuchiyo and the camera quickly jerked to the side, back to the supermarket. There were multiple zombies and spider-things coming from the store.

".... I want you all to tell the base everything you can... And to also tell Kulklinsky that him and Lemarque better win this thing for us or I will kill them myself."

The camera shifted views again and off popped a set of rounds. There was gunfire smattering around him, showing the others were trying to support him, "Are you mad? Fall back! FALL BACK!" Hokuchiyo almost screamed as the zombies began to surround the truck. They seemed incapable of climbing the truck effectivey. The S.C.O.P.E caught all their mutilated bodies in great detail as the gun panned from target to target.

There was a thunk, followed by a quick blur of motion to the left and then the camera went skyward, looking up into the smoking, dark, night sky followed by a glutteral, primal cry from the thing that had just killed Hokuchiyo.

The camera showed little more then the roof of the truck, as well as half an arm that was feintly twitching in front of the camera.

"D-Hckhhlagh-... Damnit... Home Team.... Fuck them all... You mess with... One of us you mess... With all of us..." the voice is significantly weaker as the din of gunfire and radio chatter is in the background.

"Enemies are... Fast... Spider-like and can infect people with... Their own kind that pro- Hcklakh! Promptly hatch from the host... Like... In that Aliens movie. Zombies are... Slow and.... Hrrfph.... More durable then usual... Vahllen I hope you get something from...."

Nothing more, just more radio chatter from the rest of the team.

The camera keeps rolling until Leeroy calls the emergency retreat, then, promptly cuts out.

FEED LOST

With the death of Hokuchiyo, the following has now transpired:
The C.E. Storyline as well as the Southway is now moot and may be done as their player desires to directly, or indirectly involve him.

Vahhlen now no longer needs to run secure information to him involving alien activity, and any and all messages and information sent and recieved by Hokuchiyo should be concidered a breach of security.

Hokuchiyo's handgun and alien analysis lessons at the range and at the OTS are now hereby cancelled, as there is noone appointed to continue them.

The retrieval team will now no longer recieve help with moving and transporting persons, cargo, and other items during loading and offloading. Kulklinsky, and Lemarque are now the final two members of HOME TEAM.

 

[PrismaCube]

Name: Carolithy (Caroline Southway)
Species: Chryssalid
Role: Minion

I can feel myself evolving with each prey I devour, growing stronger and taller, my shell hardening and flourishing with my poison. Each darkness I can run farther and faster, by my side are my children all birthed from me, none of them plagued with prey DNA. I'm a mother among my kind, the hive consist of two species, there are few like me, very few. I give birth. My family members who can not birth infect our prey. I can not seem to remember how I arrived on this planet, yet the voice that is not the Hive promised me this planet so that I may start my own Hive. He could be lying, our friends who fight alongside us are also talking about taking this planet for themselves, but there is something else behind all this, the hive can feel it.

Our prey is weak, slow and easy to kill, flesh that I can cut through with my claws without using much strength. They also taste delicious, much better than any of the dead prey of our friends. Yet our prey seems to also have hard flesh, recently I was chasing a prey when he was suddenly eaten by his own kind, it was bigger and it made more noise. I see them everywhere yet the all seem to be dead, until they eat one of there own weaker kind. There eyes shine and they move almost faster than any of us. (Carolithy is talking about a human in car if you have not figured it out by now, trying my best here to describe things that she never saw before, well as an alien, upon death and mutation Caroline lost almost all of her human memories.) None the less I was able to stop the heavy prey, but they do not taste as great as the weaker kind.

As I was sharing a feast among my children of several prey that tried to fight back by throwing small objects at us at immense speed I noticed the sky above thundering, shortly after there kind was flying over us and passed us like some of our friends do. Then everything was quite again, we continues our feast when we got interrupted again by a noise coming from above, where the prey flew along. Before I could react my children were killed by a big fire and the prey-build earth crumbled below me, I fell and fell then landed in something strange, my mind was filled with the cries of my children dying above me, yet I could also hear other species thousands of them, none which are the kind of our prey. My body also felt weird, like as if I was in prey blood, but a lot of it. I could not see for I keep falling and there more I feel the darker it got. I wasn't dying either, but the great fire had no effect on me in this something. What is this...ugh...I...I remember...uatr...wutar...water?

 

[Zain Shah]

Leroy Jenkins

Skyranger Pilot

This week has been hard to describe in words, we lost 5 of them. One of them was Caroline, I was glad that she made it out of her first mission but I guess this is what she signed up for. I've already started packing up her stuff, I'm gonna send it back to her as soon as I get an address for her family. She was a good friend and she didn't deserve what she went through. James Nightingale, Lukas Winters, Hokuchiyo Ritofuto, Tarrmis Gorefest and Caroline Southway join Rebecca Robinson, Ryan Chen and Stephen Maltus in that place high in the sky.

Coming back on the skyranger alone made me feel... immortal, but in a way in which it is suffering rather than pleasure. Many soldiers will come, I will get to know them and they will die, but they will have a rest after they die; I will have to live on without them like I have to with Caroline. The skyranger is my safe haven where I know I can relax but those mortal soldiers do not know the feeling of comfort but at least they don't have to explain why only one person came back after 6 left. The Commander better get his shit together because that last mission was so sloppy, I would've done a better job.

Just like that, I have no real friends around base; who knew military life would be this bad? This war has brought humanity together as one to face the threat but what if humanity has alien sympathisisers. We must be wary of those kind of people.

This is Leroy Jenkins.....signing off.

 

[Wisekill1]

On route to: XCOM HQ
During operation: SWIFT NIGHT
Seen from the perspective of 'Tidy Team' leader Johan De Fries

Normally the Chinook helicopter that carried the cleanup crew was filled with idle chatter, but not this time. Central Officer Bradford had just informed them that Code Black was confirmed at the mission site, they were now ordered to get back to the base before as soon as possible. The only thing Johan could do was sit down and think about what this would mean to the people living in and near the city.
Everyone at the base had seen the images and live news feeds from the Terror site, most of the news feeds had stopped by now, but pictures and short videos filmed by amateurs were still being uploaded to the internet.
Everyone knew that if XCOM couldn't take back the city, no one could.



XCOM HQ
One hour after operation: SWIFT NIGHT

When Johan stepped out of the helicopter as the last man of his team he looked around him. The Skyranger was already here, Johan could picture that the pilot would have a hard time dealing with this but he didn't see the man in the Hanger.

Without any alien artifacts to take care of or dirty clothes to take off Johan immediately walked towards the Memorial room, he noticed someone was already there and decided to wait outside. When the person was done Johan briefly made eye contact with the person and gave an encouraging nod and a small smile. He knew people needed that kind of friendly stuff after disasters like this.

He stared at the first name for a while before he started talking.

"Squaddie James Nightingale
Not Frightened by their bite

Corporal Hokuchiyo Ritofuto
Not shrinking in fright

Rookie Lukas Winters
an example of our might

Squaddie Caroline Southway
our truest knight.

Sergeant Tarmis 'Echo' Gorefest
Even the darkest Wight "

Johan finally stopped and hoped he would never have to finish that poem, but he knew better. Looking at the state of the last few missions he was certain that there would be even more causalities.

After a short moment Johan took a deep breath and walked away in search of a very strong drink.

 

[summerjuliet]

[Video Log of Rookie Matilda Becker. Dated 09:14, May 2]

[Matilda sits at a small desk in a cramped room. There is an X-Com uniform hanging on the wall behind her, and a half-way unpacked bag on the floor. She is still dressed in what appears to have been her pajamas. After checking to make sure that the camera is recording, she waves at it, smiling.]

Hey, Rosi. I, uh…I got that job I was telling you about. Well, not really. I mean the one I got interviewed for. That was all I told you. Um...you probably won’t get these videos unless we win. Or I’m dead. Or both. No, you...you probably won’t even see them then. These’ll get buried beneath this facility and everyone will forget. But hey, you told me to start keeping a diary, right? Maybe Nikki will get to see them in history class when she grows up. She’ll come home and tell you all about how Aunt Mattie lost her shit sitting in a glorified storage closet with a bed. Oh, sorry. I’m not supposed to swear in front of her. Sorry, Nikki. Here’s hoping I’m not too embarrassing.

[Several minutes of pacing in and out of the view of the camera. She stops for a moment to dig something out of the bag. Upon finding it, she hurls it at the wall repeatedly. Several more minutes of pacing and throwing the ball. Finally, she sits back down, pulling at the ends of her hair.]

Sorry, I’ll just...just edit that out or something. Don’t need the kids seeing that. Jesus, I’ve only been here a day and I’m losing my mind. We’re underground, Rosi. I hate it. You know I hate it. Remember when we went up to North Carolina and went in those caverns and I started hyperventilating and the tour guide started freaking out and you had to carry me out and then you made fun of me the whole drive back? This is like that, only ten times worse. And you aren’t here to make fun of me. Which made it better, surprisingly. I feel like the ceiling’s about to come down on my head, or-or the walls are caving in, or--I just don’t like it. You know what would have been a good thing to mention when they came to get me? "Hey, we're taking you to a super secret base, by the way it's underground, hope you aren't claustrophobic!" Because then I could have told them that I am and maybe I'd still be home with you.

[Matilda takes a deep breath, leaning back in the chair.]

Okay, stay calm, Mattie. Just relax. This is a government facility. The ceiling isn’t going to collapse. They probably hired a real architect and not some idiot digging holes.

[Her eyes open again. She forces a smile, looking around the room.]

So I came in with four other people. There’s...well, there’s really not a lot of us here. I think maybe twelve or thirteen? I don’t know. I’m hoping maybe I haven’t met everyone yet. I walked around a bit when I got here to kind of get a feel for the place. It’s massive, for one thing. And I kind of...oh, man, you aren’t going to like this. I found a memorial wall. There’s a ton of names on it. Five of them, all from the same mission! That’s a whole squad, Rosi, and they’re all dead! Holy shit, what did I sign up for? Pay’s not even that great. I should’ve said ‘no’, just...taken my chances. I was about to get reassigned, you know. I--you know, I know people die doing this, Rosi. I know it happens. But...a whole squad. Shit. I’m sleeping in a dead girl’s room. I think I’m supposed to have a roommate, but she might be dead too. Hell, we might all be dead and this is just--

[A siren shrieks in the background, causing Matilda to jump and fall out of her chair, swearing in several languages. She pulls herself back up and runs out of the room.]

[The camera remains on. Several minutes of the siren and recording of the far wall.]

[The siren stops. Matilda returns to her seat, out of breath, a minute later.]

Sorry...apparently that’s the call to get up and get on the plane. “Skyranger”. I got lucky this time, they picked another five to go out. Two of the guys I came in with are going. I wish they weren't. I mean, we didn’t really talk that much on the plane, but…that's my crew. Am I a chicken if I don’t want to go out on a mission? I don’t want them to die just so I don’t have to go out. I mean, I signed that waiver and everything, “my life is forfeit, blah blah blah”, but I didn’t...it didn’t really occur to me that it wasn’t just typical BS. The whole world’s going crazy and I’m going crazy and I don’t really know how the hell we’re supposed to win against an enemy that wiped a whole squad out. Oh, and to make things better--you’re going to love this: there’s a robot. A fucking giant robot! It’s on our side, thank God, but it’s a robot! I walked into a bad seventies movie! Jesus, I wish it was just a movie.

[Matilda picks the camera up, turning it around. Brief shot of the desk; what appear to be drawings of Matilda, done by a child, are spread across it. She quickly puts the camera back down, facing her.]

Okay, this is getting...really long. Hopefully I’ll be alive to do another one. Oh, right, shouldn’t say that in front of the kids. Um. Rah, rah, fight the good fight and all of that stuff. Stay in school, don’t get into fights. Shit, I don’t know, don’t join the military. Go be a doctor or a lawyer. Just...do whatever, I don’t care. Look, one of the guys I came in with is still here. Might go see if I can talk to him. Maybe getting out of this room will make me feel better. Seriously, I think the ceiling’s lower in here than the rest of the base.

Love you, Rosi. And Nikki. And tell mom and dad I’m okay. Oh. Right. You’re not...actually going to see this. Well, I’ll pretend you told them I’m okay, and that you heard me say I love you. Okay, I’m just...I’m going now. See you.

[She fumbles with the camera, attempting to turn it off. The recording stops.]

[End Video Log. Time: 09:30, May 2]

 

[Guilhudo]

https://soundcloud.com/guilherme-weber-2/journal-entry-n-1-1st-may-2015
rec0001.wma from Guilherme Weber's, Interceptor Pilot designed to South America laptop.
*sigh* Here we go.

Journal entry number one, 1st May, 2015.

So, I just got an urgent call. I'll be brief: It seems like they're calling me for the XCOM Project. If you don't know what it is, I'll explain it real quick. Basically, they're; we're the last hope for humanity against the aliens. And if you don't know what the aliens are, well, you're probably not from this planet. (That's ironic).

I think I'll introduce myself first. I'm Guilherme Weber, also known as "The G-Man" at the military, I'm 38 now, and I'm the new XCOM Interceptor pilot designed to South America. Not much to say right now, I'll just wait for the pickup and see how this goes.

--

I just arrived at my quarters at the XCOM HQ. And, damn, this place's huge! I could get lost really easy by the looks of it. And there's more: It's god damn underground! I mean, that makes sense, but still, it's pretty impressive. I just hope the ceiling don't collapse or something. That'd be real bad.

Although it's a military base, this place has some cool places, I mean, there's a bar, and a gym, so that's a plus. We don't get to roam freely at the base though, since there are some import- important research being done and probably hazardou-hazardous materials being manipulated. They showed me the med-bay, the barracks, the soldier quarters and, for me, the hangar. They told me they're constructing me an interceptor just like the one beside me; my area. It looks incredibly amazing, with all the high-tech cannons, and apparatus.

I also got a glance of the field troopers. They looked really exhausted and... dead. I heard it's because we suffered heavy casualties on the last mission. Aliens "terrorizing" Africa, wasn't it?

Funny thing: The commander said not to mourn their deaths, but to... celebrate? *sigh* I guess we're all going nuts then.

 

[PrismaCube]

Name: Carolithy (Caroline Southway)
Species: Chryssalid
Role: Lost Chryssalid

Voice 1: What do you think it is?
Voice 2: Well it's not a fish that's for sure
Voice 1: Looks like a Huge Crab
Voice 2: Nah man, it looks like a huge Spider to me.
Voice 3: Whatever it is, its nothing the world has ever seen before, I bet some people would pay millions for it.
Voice 2: Shall we set sail for Canada my Captain?
Voice 3: Yes, its about time we get back home, we've been out here for weeks.
Voice 2: Aye
Voice 1: I tell you, something is fishy about all of this, first that light in the sky and now this weird fish.
Voice 2: Shut up frank, you think to much.

*Awake my child, awake and feed*
I awake to a moving prey-made earth, I do not know where I was, last thing I could remember was walking into some sort of cave then the cave closed and pulled me up, I rose out of the water and dropped onto something big, the drop knocked me out. I could not hear the hive, I was scared. My children where all gone, my family was silence. Why? I usually can hear them from anywhere. Yet I heard the Voice, what did it tell me? To feed? Then I shall. I broke out of my cave, strange it was similar to the big hard prey, yet it was dead. This must be what they use to trap their prey. I'm there prey. But now that I'm free they are mine. The earth was moving under me. I could barley keep my balance with my four legs, but I managed after a while. I heard a screeching noise and some prey making noises, quickly I managed to run into the shadows and observe my prey.

Voice 1: What the..

This is my chance, I ran up behind my prey, forced my claws through his weak flesh, I felt the blood rushing down my claws, the prey grasping for his behind and gasping for air, struggling and then slowly dying, something was hitting one of my claws. The beating got slower and slower and then it stopped. I pulled my claw out and saw that there was flesh stuck to it. My head felt heavy. Huart? Heart! This is what they prey calls it? Heart? Why do I know this?

*BANG!*
A wave of heat knocked against my head.
*CLICK*
I turned to see another Prey, he had water on his face, running down from his vision. Vision? Eus... Eyes. Special Eyes?
*BANG*
The impact pushed me over causing me to tumble, I did not know what to do. I looked at the prey who was moving his arms hastily.
*Click, Click*
My skin was feeling weird, I'm weak I can feel it, another impact and I would be wounded, I can't let that happen. I jumped toward my prey. Claws went right through him.
*Bang*
That was close, the small metal objects that were projectile out of this thing missed me. I looked down and saw my prey twitching and spewing blood out of his mouth. He was grasping for the whole I just made in his weak flesh. This prey's flesh was lying on the ground and the prey seemed to struggle to put it back into his weak flesh.
Voice 3: Holy shit! Erik!
I looked up to see another prey. Quickly I moved towards it, squishing my previous prey into his eyes with my legs without noticing it. I jumped up to the new prey. My jumping abilities were great, and my speed was swift, the next prey was dead in seconds. I took my claw and forced it right under the prey's mouth through his eyes and cut the small part that separated weak flesh and mouth flesh with my other claw.

Then everything was quit, water was falling from above and the water from below was roaring. The prey-made earth under me was shaking along with the water from below. I called out to my Hive...No answer. I called out again... No answer. I focused all my mind on calling out for the hive. Losing control over my flesh and going into my mind. Then I heard them, calling out for me. It was short, I was forced back into my flesh just in time to realize that I feel back into the water from below. Then I heard other voices again, voice from this planet. There was a big voice. It was loud and I felt it nearby. It was heading my direction. I positioned myself so I could reach this big flesh that was heading towards me. Just as this passive big flesh went by me I managed to get a grip on it. There was a cave going into him. Maybe, maybe he will take me back to non-prey made earth. I slashed the cave open and went inside, the big flesh was in pain through my entering but I ignored it, it was dark and big in there, also warm a great place to heal up and birth. And so I began.

 

[Quazer Flame]

Name: Michael Angel
Rank: Rookie
Missions: Big fat zero 0
Kills: Another big fat 0
Date: May 1st, 2015​

…
Michael Angel closes his journal and tucks it into a pocket. There will be more time to write later.

-[]-[]-[]-​

XCOM base. Somehow, Angel thought it would be... different. Sure, it all looked science-fictiony enough, but the soldiers already here look so incredibly... “stressed” doesn't quite cut it.

Everyone looks like something sucked the life out of them. It is a war they're we're fighting, so maybe fighting aliens is more soul-eroding than fighting other humans? maybe I'm being stupid and looking too much into it.​

Angel puts the journal away and steps out of the Skyranger. "Nice plane," he mutters approvingly as he passes the pilot, the man who will be flying him on future mission.

-[]-[]-[]-​

...Oh.
Eight soldiers lost within the course of a single week...
Angel stares at the memorial wall. While eight soldiers would be a rather small number in comparison to worldwide losses, for an outfit as small as the XCOM soldiers, it would be a tremendous blow to egos and morale.
Angel looks around to make sure he isn't being watched, then pulls out his journal.

I wish I could have met you guys.

-Michael Angel​

Angel carefully tears out that page of his journal, folds it neatly, and places it under the photos on the wall.

-[]-[]-[]-​

It feels good, holding a gun, aiming at cardboard cutouts of aliens. Angel needed to take his mind off the memorial wall for a moment, and some nice ballistic therapy was exactly what the doctor ordered.

7 out of 10 shots hit. I should spend a little more time here on the range.​

Angel sighs and tucks the journal into his pocket. He's feeling restless, his thoughts all disconnected from each other. He used to spend hours writing, but several years as a soldier have turned his novel-length journal entries into little one-sentence blurbs.
"I need a good run," he mutters to himself. "I wonder if there's a treadmill in the gym."

 

[Dragonivon]

(The following is a collaboration between Zhang (Dragonivon) and Rookie Michael Angel (Quazer Flame), done in narrative form and not personal journal form)
::Three Days after Operation SWIFT NIGHT::

Angel enters the gym area and sees Zhang. A smell of old burned flesh raises immediate alarm bells in Angel's head. This man has been wounded, likely quite severely, and yet here he is, lifting weights. From what little Angel knows about the weapons the enemy uses, Zhang is likely pushing himself through a ridiculous amount of pain, depending on how far along the healing process he is.

Zhang uses free weights while shirtless, holding a fifty-pound plate in each hand as he extends his arms straight away from his sides, holds it for three beats, then recrosses them across his scarred and tattooed body. He takes a deep breath and repeats the procedure. Again. And again. Though his right shoulder and upper arm are still heavily bandaged he's forcing his movements to move equally with both hands. He growls slightly with each exertion, using the pain to focus himself once more. Sounding more angry and feral than pained.

Zhang sees Angel looking at him but doesn't slow his regimen. "You seem to be lost... I would suggest endurance training... running is sometimes necessary..." He resumes his focus on a point far away as he rotates his arms while holding the weights extended. "Or are you another friend of the dead?"

Angel raises an eyebrow. "Friend of the dead?" he mutters. Angel drops his bag by the door and walks to a treadmill. Before he gets on, he turns back to Zhang. From all the names he's heard during his short time at base, only one has been spoken in whispers enough to belong to this man.

"You are Shaojie Zhang," Angel says. It is not a question, merely said in the same tone that one would say that the sky was blue. Almost bored. It's an act, though. Michael Angel is intimidated. He puts up a well-practiced facade of disinterest to hide it.

Zhang grunts an assent and nods, finishing his set with the weights. "While I am here, it's easier to call me... Chilong. And who might you be?" He puts down the fifty-pound plates and stretches, turning his body from side to side while keeping his legs still. Corded muscles fight massive scarring over most of his body though particularly his back. A tattoo that looks like a tiger trapped in a cage of scars stares balefully from Chilong's back, looking like it's trying to escape from inside Zhang's body.

Zhang chuckles grimly, continuing in a gravelly tone, "Judging from your expression and your fatigues, you are even newer than I am. You have my congratulations and condolences, for many this has been a very short tour."

"Chilong." Angel raises an eyebrow. "Means 'Dragon'. Your choice of nickname, or someone else's?"

Angel turns on the treadmill and sets it to a brisk jog. "Angel," he says, gesturing to himself. He hops onto the machine. "New to XCOM, true, but not to war."

"Angel. Your choice of nickname or someone else's? And I chose Chilong, though it doesn't quite mean 'Dragon' but you are close. It means "Hornless Dragon", a subtle but significant difference. I'm sure that the nickname the other members of XCOM would wish to give me would be far less flattering." Zhang lowers himself to the mat and begins stretching his legs, nearly in full splits to begin. "Forget whatever you learned fighting humans, fighting aliens is something else altogether. You aren't fighting just them, you are fighting the panic you may have with the unknown suddenly trying to shoot your face off. Whatever you do, don't panic."

"I take it that panicking has been an issue lately?" Angel says as he glances over his shoulder. "Perhaps with all the losses. The dates next to the names on the memorial wall are recent, so people here weren't acquainted with Loss when he arrived."

Angel lifts himself off the treadmill, turns himself around and sets back down,jogging backwards so that he can see Zhang's face. "It's not a nickname, by the way. I am Michael Angel."

Zhang smirks slightly and gives Angel what passes for a friendly nod. "Astute observation. Yes, their first deaths were very recent. In fact the same day I was brought here. It left most of the base stunned, as if they could not believe one of their own had died. Personally, I couldn't believe they had not suffered a casualty until then. Afterwards, performance has been... poor."

"Better to not know too many names in an outfit like this, though perhaps some will take heart from your celestial name. Hope that it means a guardian has come to protect them. For myself, I'm less one with the angels and more one with the devils you might say."

"I've met people who were at one with devils," Angel says after a pause. "I'm not entirely sure that you are one of them. Maybe you feel like you are, and maybe my gut is wrong, and you really are. Still, you're here, and if you're anything like everyone else here, you signed your life towards defending Earth from these aliens."

Angel turns back around and resumes jogging normally. "I do hope angels have come to guard us, though," he says quietly.

"You misunderstand my motives for why I fight." Zhang goes towards the freeweights rack again. "Like it or not my life was already on the line in this battle against the aliens, whether I was here or not. Yet with me here, there's a greater chance for me to survive by insuring we win the battle. If XCOM does lose, then everyone on the planet dies. I'd rather die fighting, with the best weapons available, if my death must occur one way or another. After this war is over, I plan on vanishing and watching humans get back to the business of killing each other."

"Humans killing each other. Been there, done that, decided to kill aliens instead." A calculated pause, to make the question sound spontaneous. "Is it much different than killing a man?"

(Continued.)

 

[Dragonivon]

(Part 2, with apologies for this being a mini-novel.)

"Not much different than killing a man." Zhang picks up a weight bar from the rack and then begins swinging it like a solid steel staff in a ritualized kata. "The weakest ones in particular, the sectoids, can be killed with a single shot or a couple shots at most. But then you start seeing different ones. Thin men, Seekers, Floaters, and worse. Some require much... MUCH... more shooting to kill. I asked the head of the science division for videos of the alien autopsies, a sample of one of the alien's skull structure, or a report on their progress on armor or weapons sorely needed. But so far, I have been denied."

The iron bar becomes a blur as he speeds up his routine, some exertion from swinging something that weight over fifty-five pounds as if it were considerably lighter. "Perhaps she just doesn't like me. On occasion I do seem to... send the wrong message." He spins and slams the end of the weight bar into a mannequin punching dummy and rips the head clean off of the torso sending it flying across the room.

A no-nonsense killer. Maybe from a criminal cell. Interesting.

Angel hops off the treadmill, turns the machine off, and heads over to the mannequin's head. He stoops down to look at it. "Well, you certainly have a way of doing things that might intimidate some people." He stands up up and, with a complicated bit of footwork, kicks the head into the air and catches it on his knee, balanced carefully. "Maybe put more energy into being awesome rather then awful."

Angel grins at his lame pun. With evident long practiced skill Angel knees the mannequin's head like a soccer ball up a little on one knee then the other, then higher to head it away from himself. As the mannequin head is dropping he then kicks it into the chest of the punching dummy. "Goal!" he jokes.

Zhang notes the head returned to position and lets one end of the bar rest on the ground as he leans on the other, rubbing his wounded right shoulder lightly. Perhaps he pushed it a touch too hard for the moment. "Within the Triads, being liked is much the same as being seen as weak. Those who are seen as weak are then no longer able to command respect. Without respect..." He shrugs and lets it stand there as having said enough.

"If we were playing futbol, I would be quite impressed with your footwork," Zhang muses with a hint of amusement. "I never really had a chance to play such games myself very often."

"Maybe they have a soccer ball somewhere on base." Angel thinks for a moment. "Or a fooseball table. I don't know yet whether people here really like soccer."

Angel scoops up the mannequin head and places it back on the dummy's shoulders, pressing it back in place for a moment. "Imagine the look on the face of the next person to punch this guy. Maybe later we can watch it on the Commander's cameras that he has everywhere here."

"I'm rather sure Commander Odd is not fond of letting others play with his toys. There's enough from enough parts of the world, I imagine you could find enough that enjoy futbol if they are in a mood to allow themselves any moment of enjoyment. Unfortunately, I think you will find them all quite more grim than usual." He looks at the head back on the body and smirks faintly, turning to put his shirt back on.

"I need to get back to the infirmary and convince the doctor I am ready for duty once more and this..." Zhang gestures at the bandage covering his right shoulder and upper arm derisively, "This is just an annoyance now. The alien's plasma weapons leave fascinating scars but heal relatively quickly if you aren't killed outright."

"I could vouch for you if needed," Angel jokes. "I'll be here a while longer. A speedy return to health to you, Zhang. Or Chilong, if you rather."

Zhang waves over his shoulder as he walks out of the gym. "I'd rather no one knew my name at all, but since that is not an option... Chilong will do. I hope you don't die too quickly, Angel. It wasn't entirely unpleasant to have a conversation where someone wasn't blaming me for someone's death for a change. Good night."

"Good night," Angel replies. Angel stays behind in the quiet of the gym now empty of people. His brain tells him it's morning, and he's still wide awake. Time should fix that. In the meantime, though, gym.

 

[PrismaCube]

Name: Carolithy (Caroline Southway)
Species: Chryssalid
Role: Brood Mother

Sometimes I have a Vision, this is a strange Vision, I can see myself being one of the prey's, the earth below my feet flourishes with this planets nature. I see other prey. No they aren't prey, there are my family. But what does this mean? Why is my family not like me? Why am I not like myself in this Vision? I never understand this.

I gaze down upon a dead prey, yet life was flowing through it. This prey is strange, they seem to be able to go into a dead state for a while. I do think this is how their kind recovers energy. Being near my prey and observing it I was able to feel the energy coming back to them, there weak flesh recovering. This prey was small, this prey must be a child. No this one is but a mere new born, only a couple of lights old. Small affection of Prey DNA, yet very old DNA.

I stepped away from the open cage where the young prey was laying in.
Opening my mind I could feel prey all around me, there were many yet few. Where I was lost the prey-made earth was different than here. I returned to body state.

My Hive is waiting, the prey have not found it yet, but they surely will soon, there catch of the big flesh was in my favor. My hive is almost ready to survive on its own, then I will be on my way. But not until my daughter is born. She will be a matriarch among her brothers, sadly she will not share my strength and size but I have taught her how to infect water flesh like her brothers and breed like me. She might become more evolved than me, but her task will be to stay here and make a hive for herself out of this prey-made earth will I go infect this planet. If I can spread my family across this earth it will be easier to take. This is the first stage of the end for their kind. It will take many darkness's in order for my daughter to reach my current strength and size, but by then I will be Mother of all and have many daughters. Yet I do have something that bothers me, I seem to be on the wrong side of this planet. England is the prey-called earth on the other side. Where I should build my Mother Hive.

I turned and climbed out the hole in the wall, leaving the young prey behind, I headed back towards the soon to be hive, unnoticed.

There she is, my first daughter...Elysica.

 

[Psilon]

“Vahllen I hope you get something from...”

The words were reverberating in Cerise’s head. Years of working with brains and scans made for fun meant she could point to the place where it was happening with enough precision to guide a surgical removal. The thought wasn’t completely without allure. Her eyes and face were wet, though were she asked she’d have denied crying. Another person she had interacted with from the military wing was gone, in a fashion more gruesome than anything she had seen before. A full squad not just murdered but defiled in death. Procedures like the one done onto Lemarque seemed mild now. And the sight of the dead soldiers marching on their own. Nightingale killed twice in one night. RItofuto rising to his feet after having said his last words. Southway paralyzed with fear as the creature rushed for her, rising limp in its hands and no less limp when she was dropped to the ground. Gorefest cut open as casually as one would peel off a banana’s skin. Winters blindsided as his desperate full-auto burst proved insufficient to down the creature.

Cerise was trembling in her chair as the images repeated in her head. She could vaguely remember she had walked out of mission control in what amounted to a daze. No one had noticed. Everyone was as far gone as Cerise was. She had steadied herself on the wall, not really certain where she was going. Ruminating on what she had seen, and haunted by Ritofuto’s last words. Being in the gloom of her room, rather than the lab’s pristine white had been a surprise. Crying had been a shock. Sitting on this chair now, feeling useless was shameful. So she leant forward and turned her computer on, writing with dead, cold fingers, and a heavy heart.

23:15 Zulu, 2.05.2015, Vahlen’s personal quarters

Despite her knowing better she hadn’t slept in four days, for the sake of overseeing the work of the research team. They were getting somewhere but slow. Her head was throbbing, and now that she was alone, with the lights above only dim she could feel the edges of her vision blacking out as her reticular system’s activity proved inadequate to keep her alert. She looked at the coffee mug, lazily squatting on the table in front of her, defiantly inviting her to drink it. The substance had cooled down, and its taste would be putrid, she knew. Still she reached out and took it up to her lips. Then hesitated and put it down. There was only so far you could go without a break, and she was starting to doubt the usefulness of it. She had become edgy and irritable, a pitiless taskmaster that was weakening rather than streamlining the efforts of her charges.

And still, the last mission made it seem all the more urgent that they pull through. She took it all in, in a single protracted breath and got up.

Progress had finally started occurring, though it was still lackluster. She had reduced their working time to twelve hours a day, introducing a four shift rotation, with new people coming in at midnight, six, twelve and eighteen. While the individual teams in each shift were small their partial overlap meant that everyone could be updated by people from the previous shift before they were done. Not a perfect system, but it worked better than set hours, or keeping everyone around for as long as she could.

And they had a working prototype. Two in fact. Fewer than she had hoped for, but more than they had had before. One was the finally optimized pistol, that fired with more power than the current models, from time to time, but still prone to fizzling once every few shots. Cute, but insubstantial, she had to say. What did matter was the much more impressive riffle model they had. Its design was blocky, and there had been a dislocated shoulder, following its first test shot, but other than that it was working. It delivered noticeably more power than the assault rifles the ground troops currently had, however its power only sufficed for a single shot before the battery had to be removed. For now the team had opted to keep this an inside secret, lest they get swarmed in an attempt to get to the precious new guns. She wondered how long that would last. They had to get at least as many bursts out of the thing as the standard issue rifles had, or the soldiers would be overwhelmed.

An irritating concern that had been raised in front of Vahlen, by some members of the team was with the way the gun used the power units. While the system that drew power from the battery didn’t show any signs of wear and was intended to last over a year the actual power cell that provided the energy was completely burned out after use. A particularly unpleasant encounter with one of the team’s new members today had hopefully ended that, even if it had cost her a large part of her dignity. The moment was still fresh in her memory.

12:22 Zulu, 2.05.2015, X-com central laboratory

“Hello, doctor Vahlen.” A female voice she couldn’t recognize spoke up behind her and Cerise turned around. The woman that had spoken had flown in to join the team from Russia yesterday, and this was her first day in the lab, since her first had been spent catching up on the progress so far. She was a chemistry expert of some description, drafted from a petroleum company of all places, according to her biography. Half a decade older than the head scientist she nonetheless looked like she had just gotten her bachelor’s last week, her hair raven black, as if to spite the archetypal Russian look.

“Yes, doctor Pavlova?” She asked, amicably, offering the woman a smile. “Are you settling in okay? Do you need any help?”

“No, thank you.” She said, with a surprisingly British accent. “I do however have some concerns regarding the current project.” Vahlen couldn’t help but flinch. Still, when she spoke it was in a sympathetic voice.

“I can assure you, last mission’s catastrophe was but an outlier. Commander Odd has proven himself more than competent in combating the alien threat.”

“That’s not my concern, I fear. I’ve been looking through the data on the current weapon designs, and frankly, I dislike the slap-dash approach that’s been taken on its power source.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, this design wouldn’t get a green light in the civilian sector. Every shot with this thing costs nearly a hundred dollars in used resources and ecological damage.” The number was a bit of a shock. Vahlen wasn’t involved in the requisitions needed for the science team – the Council had saved her that chore, at least.

“That does seem excessive, but we’re working on optimizing the charge.”

“Yes, I saw. It’s one of the current objectives, according to the project sheet I was provided. Yet it seems there’s no mention of using a renewable power source.” The woman’s gaze on Cerise was intense, as if trying to tunnel right through her, and it took the head scientist considerable effort to maintain her composure.

“For now our priority is simply finding a battery that will support four or more shots. Everything else is of secondary importance.”

“I really don’t think it is, Doctor. This project has been draining considerable resources away from national resistance efforts, with limited success. Africa’s been turned into a wasteland due to X-com’s lackluster results…” A slap reverberated through the room. The five other people in the lab all froze and looked at the two women. Cerise’s face was pale, lips pursed, eyes cold. Petrova’s was frozen in disbelief as she raised a hand to her reddened cheek.

“I will not have some recently arrived oligarch’s pet insulting and sabotaging this project. If you have something to contribute to our current power difficulties, then by all means, do. Otherwise I will not permit corporate regulations been counting to compromise the science team’s work.” The woman’s face hadn’t changed expression, but she stepped back when Vahlen took a step closer to her and entered the older woman’s personal space. “Have I made myself clear?” The woman nodded.

11:45 Zulu, 3.05.2015, X-com central laboratory

With another fizzing sound the pistol’s tenth consecutive shot landed in the general vicinity of the mark. Vahlen smiled as she put the weapon down. The motion served the additional purpose of keeping her from falling over. She was letting the caffeine leave her system now, and the result was quite unpleasant. The hand she’d been shooting with was insensitive with pain, as was her head, and staying on her feet was a herculean effort. Still, the first major breakthrough of the research team was done.

“You really came through with this one, Samuel.” She said to the man who had been overseen her shoot. It was the same American weapon engineer that had been there, when the fifth version of the pistol had fizzled in her hand. He beamed her a smile.

“Told you I would, and you even got to keep your hand.” He laughed, closing his bloodshot eyes. His shift had started at midnight. “Though almost losing mine’s what gave me the inspiration to fix this little critter.”

“You’re exaggerating.” She said as they headed out of the room. Her legs were screaming out with every step, and she feared they might give out.

“Perhaps. But the infirmary time was really helpful. Guess that’s why the boys enjoy spending so much time there.” Before Vahlen could respond to that he opened a window on the computer he was beside. “And this is the other thing I got the idea for.” The head scientist looked at the schematic, and was, understandably, unable to tell head from tail. She looked at Sam puzzled. “Well, with batteries now giving us an impressive two shots I did some theorizing and came up with a module that’ll allow an alternate mode of fire. Less juice, but for longer. Basically it’ll let it shoot in full auto bursts. We’ve got suppressing fire.” And for once, Vahlen felt like they were making progress.

 

[PrinceZarek]

Personal Log 011
Name; Arsène Lamarque
Rank; Lieutenant
Current Status; Reserves
Confirmed Kills; 11 Sectoids 2 Seekers 4 Thin Men 2 Floaters 1 Outsider


I couldn't believe what I was seeing from Ritofuto's live feed. Every one of them was hunted down and kllled. The command center was dead silent as Officer Bradford called the Skyranger back to base. I just stared at the screen in shock...

No... this isn't happening... not again...

I was trembling, once more I had lost people close to me. I started muttering the same thing over and over again...

Dead... they're all dead...

Officer Bradford ordered me to take another psych evaluation. The psychiatrist, who looked like he was barely out of college, sat me down and started to ask me how I was feeling. I had to resist punching him right in the jaw, he knew damn well how I felt. I refused to answer as he prattled on.

Closing his notebook, he said "Lieutenant, I'm not your enemy. I'm here to help you. You're making this more difficult than this has to be. If you would just cooperate, you can go back to the barracks. I'll ask you again, how are you feeling?"

I relented, and made a sideways glance, "I'll be better once I can get out there and fight, which I can't do while sitting in here."

"As I stated before, I'm not your enemy, we share the same goals. I'm part of X-COM, same as you." He sat back in his chair, "I understand what you going through."

Those words... I don't know what I was, but I snapped, "What is it with you people trying to empathize with me? You don't understand a damn thing I'm going through. Were you the first X-COM soldier to be wounded in action? Have you watched as your comrades are slaughtered, only to come back as the living dead? It doesn't stop there. Their bodies eventually explode, and one of those insect-like monsters appear. Have you had your body irreversibly changed, turning you into nothing more than a war machine? No? Didn't think so."

He was taken aback, "I'm sorry Lieutenant, I didn't know."

I leaned back once more, "Anymore questions doc? I'm supposed to be training with the MEC."

He grabbed his notebook, "Thats another thing I wanted to talk to you about. I've watched the feed from previous missions and surveillance from the gym, and I am somewhat disturbed. Whenever you kill an alien or train for long periods of time, you seem to almost enjoy it. Why is that?"

I got up and walked around, contemplating my response, "I don't know why. I've killed many men in the past, only a few I relished in. There was a Japanese man in the Legion, who told me of a concept in Japanese Buddhism, issatsu tasho, 'killing one aggressor in order that many innocents may live'. That has stuck with me ever since."

I sat back down, "I've mostly killed in response to being attacked. The only time I sought out someone was after my wife's death. I don't remember much about that operation, only that I had killed many people in order to sate my desire for revenge. I do remember a faint glimpse of that battle, an image of me soaked in blood, standing over the enemy commander's body. The feelings I felt then, remind me of whenever I kill an alien. I wanted to avenge my wife, and now I want to avenge my fallen comrades. Its revenge. That is why I seem to enjoy killing."

The psychiatrist took a moment to compose his thoughts, "I see. I understand now. Thank you Lieutenant.", he glanced at his watch, "I'm afraid our time is up. Good luck out there."

I left and made my way to the memorial wall, which had just been updated with the recent casualties. I just stood there for what seemed like an eternity. Only Kuklinski and I remain from the Home Team. He and I are the last ones alive who made first contact. I don't know if the two of us will be able to survive this conflict, but if we do, I'm looking forward to the old war stories we will tell our grandchildren. About Rebecca, Hokuchiyo, and everyone else who made the ultimate sacrifice to save humanity. They are the true heroes. I made a somber salute to the fallen, and returned to my quarters.

 

[Taugaunt]

Twitchy Cam
Test 2

She has returned looking more somber then ever. With the results of the last mission being a complete failure there was no one on the return flight home to answer her questionnaire.

"Hey Twitchy, well I guess I should get to work on that letter to the family. So Twitchy Start recording."

I believe she has forgotten that I have nowhere to record too. She fixes her hair and attempts to wipe the oil stains from her uniform in a futile attempt to look presentable.

"So hi mom, hi dad if the brothers are there too then, hi Adrian and Victor.
So this is Abby messaging you not from prison! Yeah they let me out so I could work for X...
Hey Twitchy do you think I would be allowed to say that or not?"

I twitch wildly incapable of giving her the answer she seeks.

"Yeah better safe then sorry. Well I'm working and I don't think I can give you a return address so trust me when I say were doing a lot of good here. So I hope you guys stay safe and don't talk to strangers especially ones that don't look human. So yeah no need to worry about me I am just fine. Lots of love Abbygail."

She gives me a signal to cut the recording if there was one.

"Hey Twitchy I am going to go do some work so I will see you later."

Believe me Abbygail some work would do you some good. Yet she walks out never hearing my taught.

 

[Rosen0x5]

Name: Richard Kuklinski
Class: Heavy
Rank: Captain
Confirmed Kills: 21
Journal Entry #8 / May 5th, 03:35 AM

Its all my fault, he died from my mistake. I killed him, the others... the commander expects so much from me. You crack under pressure and when you do, people die. There's no justification for what I did, theres nothing that can be done now... havent slept in 2 days since that mission. I will fight and see us through.. see all of us.. through. Even the dead.

Barely have any strenght, everyone around have probably noticed. I've been sitting infront of the memorial ever since, thinking. What if I made the shot, what if. The commander's words playing in my head like a broken record. Holding me responsible for Lamarque's death, haunting me day and night through my daily routines. Most nights... I just think it should have been me to die on that mission.

But untill my time comes, I will do everything I can to avenge every fallen Xcom operative.
I swear it.

 

[JuliaMaluca]

Diary of Abigail Black, Part 2:
May 7, 2015
Lots of Firsts this week. First time I saw a team come back. First time I attended a service for a dead soldier. First time I was allowed to attend a de-briefing. First time I saw all the other soldiers of X-Com in one place.

Let's start at the beginning.

The skyranger came back with four survivors and one casualty. I hope I didn't give away too much how shocked I was to learn that this humongous machine-robot-thing I saw was actually a human, a soldier within some kind of suit! I've seen the robot enter the skyranger when they left for the mission, but I honestly thought it was a machine!

That brings me to the second First, the service. It was a short one, but very, very intense. Hardly any tears, but a lot of vibe in the air. A lot of hatred, and anger, and even some fear, I'd say. The machine-guy, Lemarque, was obviously very well liked and respected. From what the others said during the service, I think I might have liked him, too.

After that, I got a com that I was to attend the de-briefing. I suppose I made some kind of spectacle out of myself by saluting everyone who crossed my path and looked vaguely military. But hey, they'd given me this pamphlet with all the rank insignia, so it's time I start acting upon that. Some acknowledged the salutes, other looked a bit confused. It was fun, actually.
The de-briefing itself was interesting. I had tried to learn all the designations for the aliens, like "sectoid" and "floater" and such, from the database, but actually seeing these creatures, even if the cam was a bit shaky... shit. That was something very, very different. I'm still not sure what to make of the Commander, Odd. He seems a bit too "into it" when issuing orders. Like, not in charge, but in despair...

After the service I went to the recreation room/bar, where drinks were handed out. I thought that there would be more soldiers on X-Com, but there were maybe 10 or 12 around. Maybe some didn't feel like company. I got my drink and stood and watched, trying not to appear too curious. Many here are not American, it seems, some Asians, some Blacks, some Europeans. But, thinking of that, well - the aliens are certainly not racist and kill everyone, so why shouldn't everyone kill aliens?

The Commander called for new volunteers to become the next "Mec". I admit I didn't volunteer because I simply don't know what being a Mec entails, and with not battle experience, it would have been a vanity move anyway. He chose a woman, some strange chick with very dark skin and very blond hair. She didn't even flinch. Tough chick.

May 16, 2015.
Another first: my first assignment. The Commander even commended me, said he had a good feeling about me. Let's find out if he's right.

 

[Wedgekree]

Cecannia Eirrissach
Assault Sergeant
Missions: 1
Kills: 2
Log: 2

* * *

She had spent the time musing then on the war. Two weeks in the medbay and coming back to so many fellow soldiers dead. Nine? Ten? She didn't know anyone now, not that she ever really had.

Cecannia walked through the area that had been set aside as the barracks. Gone was the near jubillance she had faced when hearing of the sniper competition. Gone was the person who had been running the shooting range. It all felt so empty now. Soldiers dead. Africa in flames. The world held together then not by so much as duct tape but there was only so fast things could fall apart.

A fighter attack on some sort of new UFO ending with the plane being shot down after having inflicted only moderate damage on the target which had then carried out it's mission and having to put money over into a replacement only seemed to exacerbate matters. They'd had a period of quiet. But it didn't feel like a good thing.

For Cecannia, it was watching what snippets of reports they had going on in things throughout the world. It was seeing Jerusalem if not in flames then in feared silence. Knowing she could not call her family or her friends then to assure them she was all right. For she was effectively dead to them. The heavy weight sank in her stomach then, feeling like lead. Her hands were shaking. A lot. Whether it was from the nightmares of the cam shots that had been distributed to soldiers from melees with the newly encountered alien units - Mutons and Chryssalids. Whether it was the exhaustion that they all faced. The support personnel essentially. Cecannia had had roughly two weeks off while being constantly pumped full of drugs and whatever concoction that the Medical Bay had used to have her regrow what felt like half her body. Her hands still shook.

* * *

They had a bit of good news. Whether it was by whatever dark magic that Biological Sciences had pulled off to finish up all those autopsies of alien bodies so they had somewhat of an idea what thier adversaries were capable of beyond bare field cams. Cecannia suppressed a bit of a shiver at the thoughts of just what the terrifying head of sciences had done to be able to effectively dissect each alien they had brought back from the field, ascertain it's physical attributes, gather genetic components for use in later research, and then brief all the soldiers on them.

All she had gotten from an incredulous look over at one of the Science Personnel was a.. Not quite a smirk and then a half smile and three words. "We have ways." And Cecannia did not wnat to know what those ways were.

* * *

In all honesty what had Cecannia feeling cheerful over the course of the next few days as she reacclimated to being a rotated in field unit, beyond many of the team's remaining experienced personnel being prepared for launch was the guns.

They were not so much things of beauty as they were seeming cannons. The Laser Rifles, demonstrated to a group of soldiers by having one of the scientists fire over at a cardboard target were an improvement over their previous shotguns and other weapons.

Holding it, feeling it's weight slung over her shoulder then as she went to the test range then as some of the soldiers rotated along with it, Cecannia shook her head, "Thing feels like.." It felt like it was half the size of her upper body, bulky and oversized. But it was the first thing they had made that allowed them to feel like they were taking a bit over from the aliens and throwing it back on them.

She took the gun up to her shoulder and fired. No kickback. She had automatically compensated for the kickback of the normal shotgun she was used to, so she yanked the gun down a bit to compensate. The shot flew low. She grumbled. She had to learn reflexes all over again. "Who designed this thing? Some Yank Armorer named Liefeld?" Well at least there weren't pouches dangling off the damned thing. But it was a hodgepodge of design, theoretical engineering, alien tech, and having to be readied for use in the field and durable enough to survive use in the field without breaking. It did it's job. Prettiness could come later. It wasn't elegant, but few first generation weapons beyond the prototype level were.

Cecannia took another shot over at the rendering of the little Xeno on the other end. She fired another burst. The weapon didn't buck against her shoulder but she still was overcompensating for the kickback that wasn't there. The shot missed again. Her shoulder was sore. But it was a good kind.

* * *

The quiet period gave a bit of time for reflection. Whether it was the flurry of satellite launches that gave them a bit more coverage around the world, some new weapons to use over agains tthe aliens, or another MEC Trooper being readied for the field and them having a backup suit that could be rpeaired for a future second trooper if they got more Meld.. For Cecannia, the nicest thing was having new guns. And she was going to be one of the ones who had been selected to use the Laser Rifle in the field in it's first excursion.

They had a roster of veterans to send out on a field mission. So that was probably a good thing. And the new MEC was perhpas the best shooter they had then. Cecannia sat along with the team as they had been assembled for a quick mission briefing that she could only describe over as.. Insane.

Operation Confounding LIght? Well it certainly was confounding to -her-! Zhang was the most experienced trooper, so /he/ would be in charge!? Putting Beacons on a train to lure a Battleship away from a populated territory? Who had come up wtih this sort of idea in the first place? Some madman in Operations? Cecannia's fingers clutched themselves as the team was being distributed equipment. It was do or die. And the madness of this operation.. Might just mean they caught the aliens off guard. And avoided a Battleship bombarding a city.

Turning her attention over to Rookie Black as they headed towards the dropship, the other trooper armed with a Scarce Laser Rifle, Cecannia gave a nod, "Good luck. Do what your officers tell you.." Which meant in the pit of her stomach listening to Zhang. And Commander Odd. "And come back alive."