RP XCOM2: Liberation of Earth

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and Taxor_the_First: “Compulsory Treason, Part 2”

Azazel watched her for a moment. …unfortunate that you could not be more precise, he said at last. Though I am satisfied that you answered truthfully. Very good. How many soldiers does XCOM have at its immediate disposal?

“I don’t keep count… that isn’t my job…”

Give me a rough estimate.

“...under a hundred I guess, it’s not a huge ship as you assholes no doubt saw.”

And your troop transport? How many does that fit?

“What’s the maximum number of people you’ve seen in one of our squads?” Yakone shot back. “A squad’s worth.”

Personally? Seven. Though I have seen footage of forces exceeding a dozen. Azazel shook his head. There is no need to get upset. Besides which, you do not seem to be taking into account the fact that I may already know the answers to some of these questions.

“Then why the fuck are you asking them?” Yakone questioned irritably.

This may sound trivial, but I am attempting to understand your personality. The Elder shrugged. All beings with a degree of intelligence are different. Attempting to apply one method of questioning on one may not have the same effect or results as application to another. By learning about you, how you react, I learn how to maximise the value we can obtain from you. With hopefully minimal… damage.

“I think I’ve already given you a good enough idea of what I’m like… namely that the instant I get free, you’re going to die…” Yakone informed him with barely-contained fury.

If someone else doesn’t beat you to it, Azazel stated with a hint of humor. You know, you’re the perfect representation of how most of ADVENT perceives XCOM. Stubborn, backed by misguided defiance. And insistent on continuing to fight even when you know you’ve already lost.

Yakone shook her head. “Have we? I don’t know why, but somehow I doubt your sheepish citizenry are going to take well to finding out you’ve been melting them all down for the sake of skin care!”

The Inquisitor visibly tensed, a slight tremor to his form evident in his robes slight shimmer. To Blukersey, it was likely that he was taking a moment to compose himself after such an accusation. Privately though, Azazel’s anger was directed at an entirely different source. Sometimes one is given no choice in their circumstances, he snapped to his prisoner alone, before shaking his head. My people… everything we do is with good reason. If you did indeed speak the truth - and I can tell you believe it to be so - then such an atrocity would not be conducted for such a small reason as vanity… though I will admit some of us are still beholden to that flaw.

“You all are. I don’t hate ADVENT - their citizens or their soldiers. They’re blind or being actively fooled, or both… but I’ve got nothing but contempt for you damn aliens. You act like you know better than humanity on every front… but building grand cities doesn’t excuse violating human rights!” Yakone growled. “You’ll never convince me that you’re anything but tyrants with the illest of intentions! That… Tabes Telum disease of yours? It doesn’t excuse slaughtering thousands of us!”

“Be silent! You know not of what you speak!” Blukersey snapped, finally goaded to the point of retaliation. She lifted a gauntleted hand, and her biokinetic energies allowed her to hold Yakone’s heart in her metaphorical palm. The Ranger blanched, and did not speak any further - seeming to have trouble breathing at all.

Enough, Major. The Inquisitor relaxed, a move that was rather obviously forced. She has… bought into their propaganda. Unfortunate, but not unexpected.

“I…” Nigella was silent for a few moments. Muttering to herself, she questioned, “are you sure… no, sorry… I understand.” The Major straightened her posture, and reported, “If you will excuse me, Inquisitor, I am needed elsewhere for right now.” With that, she abruptly departed, though not before a telepathic ghost echoed in Azazel’s head via her chip.

You may… speak more freely with Blukersey absent. But remember your objective is to garner information… our mercy only extends so far, a pleasant yet chilling voice intoned.

Overseer Cordiam?! I... understand, the Inquisitor responded with a hint of nervousness, before returning his gaze to the prisoner. The Major appears to have other duties to attend to. Probably best. My next question may have distressed her. He moved forward slightly, his robe swiping across the floor. Why are you so convinced that she is related to you?

“Because she is my aunt!” Yakone blurted out. “You may have changed and brainwashed her… but I found that damn device you sucked her memories into… I know who Blukersey really is.”

So you located the Nouja Memories, Azazel said thoughtfully. But… I do not see the link.

“The last memory was one I’d never seen before… a Declension in silver brainwashing her, extracting the memories… I know what I felt when I interfaced with that thing. I know that’s her!” Yakone insisted.

The Inquisitor grunted, looking at the exit to the cell thoughtfully. In silver… Hmm. I would not be… entirely surprised if what you say is true, he said at last. Even in that case, however, the counter argument would likely be that she is merely free from the corrupting influence of your ideals.

“You’re so full of shit I can’t even begin to respond…”

I never said that was the argument I would put forward. The Inquisitor paced sideways, his gait pensive. …we are getting off track, he admitted. And I don’t believe you will feel any better if we continue along that line of conversation. What was your role in XCOM?

“The most badass Ranger they have to offer,” Yakone retorted. It would seem she wasn’t lying - from her perspective, anyway.

Anything else? Ever work on other things? Research and development, simple engineer work…?

“I’m pretty good with weapons research,” Yakone responded smugly.

Azazel paused. What kind of weapons research? he probed.

“General assistance. I didn’t directly invent any of it,” Yakone said tersely.

But you would know enough to know what kind of weaponry you were working on next?

“I actually haven’t helped out the team in two weeks…”

The Inquisitor frowned internally. Unfortunate, he said tiredly. I suppose you weren’t entirely wrong when you said you didn’t know much. He considered for a moment. You said you didn’t directly invent any of it. Who did?

“Are you seriously telling me you guys don’t know who our chief scientist is?” Yakone questioned indignantly.

We have an idea. But my last informant only had information that was several years out of date. If nothing else, you will confirm our suspicions.

“Let me answer your question with a question… who is the smartest guy you had defect from your puppet government? There’s your answer,” Yakone shot back.

Robert Tygan then, Azazel murmured, nodding slightly. As expected. And your chief engineer? According to sources your organisation has stuck with the head of department structure since before ADVENT.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and Taxor_the_First: “Compulsory Treason, Part 3”

Yakone was silent for a moment, this answer clearly causing hesitance for her. In the end, she decided, “doesn’t really matter, but her name’s Lily. She was only a child when you assholes took over, and like everyone else in XCOM her file was wiped, so knowing that gains you nothing.”

It gains us a name, the Inquisitor replied. I take it from your reluctance to answer that you two are close?

This question Yakone did not answer.

A small wave of annoyance emanated from the Elder, but he did not press the issue further. Her silence was all the answer he needed. What of your mother? he queried. Describe her.

Outwardly returning to her defiant demeanor, Yakone rolled her neck - unable to shrug her shoulders due to her bindings. “Well, she’s got a fauxhawk ponytail, dark blue eyes, boobs about the same size as mine…”

All details I can ascertain from merely watching any of her… messages to the populace. Azazel shook his head. I meant personality. Opinions. Strengths. Flaws.

“She hates you guys as much as I do,” Yakone replied vaguely, not wanting to expand upon the other queries.

The Inquisitor waited. …that’s it? he asked. Nothing more to add to that? His tone indicated that, underneath his relatively calm exterior, a level of frustration was beginning to set in.

Yakone’s expression hardened. “What, did you think I was just going to sell her out? Sorry, I don’t betray those that I care about.”

Sometimes you’re not exactly given a choice! the Elder thundered abruptly, a shadow crossing his mask. The sheer force of his presence, previously relatively benign, became a noticeable pressure on the mind, a dominating force that commanded some level of fear, if not just attention. And just as suddenly as it had come, it was gone, replaced by a hollow regret that ebbed away from notice like a wave off the shore. …I apologise, Azazel said quietly. But method of delivery aside, my point remains. You are not exactly in a situation to be refusing to answer.

Yakone had recoiled somewhat, but still held onto a brave face. “I still refuse. I don’t have much respect for so-called ‘authority figures’, and I sure as hell enjoy telling someone who expects everything to go their way no.”

Expectation has nothing to do with it, the Inquisitor stated. If you prove difficult in a situation that is easy for you, then we can move on to another that is much harder for both of us. Believe it or not, I’m not an advocate for torture. He looked around the bare cell. This interrogation in itself is to humor me, not you. And the circumstances can change the instant you decide to be problematic. I expect nothing. I can force everything.

“God, I sure hope my willpower exceeds yours… would be pretty damn satisfying to humble one of you in a contest of mental fortitude,” Yakone responded with a shake of her head. “The possibility that there’s a chance I can resist your intrusions means we’re going to have to do this the hard way.”

You- Azazel was visibly stunned. You have the audacity to think you can resist an Inquisitor? Someone who has been trained to infiltrate minds of every conceivable strength?

“Apparently you weren’t as good a judge of my personality as you thought you were,” Yakone replied with a grim smirk plastered onto her pale features.

Very well, the Elder spoke, his voice tinged with the finality of a gavel slamming down. I would say “this won’t hurt a bit”... but I’d be lying. With that statement came the first probe, relatively gentle, but persistent. Azazel did not seem exerted in any way, simply standing there as if waiting for the results of a test.

Yakone took a deep, shuddering breath - showing she wasn’t without fear - but otherwise managed to hold steady. “If you’re going to go the… Chinese water torture route… we’re going to be here awhile.”

Merely examining my opponent, the Inquisitor murmured. Normally I would keep stepping up my force until you broke down, but unfortunately I don’t have time. This was all the warning he gave for his next attempt, considerably stronger and more like a stab than a simple prodding. Still, he betrayed no sign of exertion, serene as ever.

The soldier squeezed her eyes shut, her muscles seizing up as she weathered the forceful venture into her mind. A few images flashed from hers to Azazel’s but nothing he gained was coherent quite yet. “I-If your combat psionics… w-were this g-good, then m-maybe you’d stand a c-chance against me in a f-fight…!” Yakone painfully exclaimed.

I believe you have already seen my combat psionics in action, was the dismissive response before the full force of the Elder’s will was brought to bear. What felt like a thousand mental lashes beat at the prisoner’s mind, seeking to break down her defences through endurance and brute force.

This time, Yakone was unable to stop herself from screaming. Nevertheless, she gave it her all to prevent him from gaining anything of value. With what little ability to focus her thoughts she had left, Yakone tried to think on trivial things, soon drifting into mentally conveying just how deeply she despised the Elder across from her. Such insults and threats eventually became desperate, and ultimately drifted into uselessness as the seasoned interrogator opened up the parts of her memory he wished to observe. Atka’s bitterness, past conflicts with her daughter and recent concerns about Yakone, her hidden kindness - this mixture of strengths and flaws were discerned by the Inquisitor. In addition, he discovered all he could want to know about the Commander’s personality. Lacking was any real knowledge of future goals of XCOM beyond the possibility of an assault on another Avatar facility - it appeared that even Yakone was not privy to strategic plans.

With this done, Azazel broke off the connection. Well… you tried, he murmured, turning away for a moment to analyse the knowledge he’d extracted from her. I can at least compliment your Commander for keeping most strategic knowledge from you. Better safe than sorry, as the human saying goes.

A few tears streaked down from Yakone’s eyes - both from the agony she had endured and her failure to resist the Inquisitor. “I’m sorry, mother,” she mumbled half-coherently.

Azazel turned his head briefly to watch her, a stab of guilt and pity piercing him. There was nothing you could have done, he said.

Yakone clenched her fists weakly. “Don’t you dare... look down on me… if you really cared... you’d either stand up to the rest of the Protectorate... or kill yourself in protest.”

And what would that achieve? the Inquisitor demanded, evidently upset that his attempt at compassion had been rebuffed. A lone Inquisitor, attempting to take down an entire empire? You think I am without equal on this planet? Because I know full well that is not true. He sighed. No. To even make a difference I would need more than just my own ability. If it was just me, then it would be suicide anyway.

“Humanity has managed this far without any help from a Declension,” Yakone replied hoarsely. “You’re just a coward to not do something other than what you are doing right now.”

Is it cowardice to avoid a fight I cannot win? Azazel asked. Is it bravery or foolishness to fight regardless? And what if conflict has drawn out for years upon years? Is it cowardice to hang up your arms, or simple exhaustion?

“We’re making a difference!” Yakone responded angrily. “You’re blind if you think we haven’t made progress.”

The Elder regarded her for a moment, as if weighing something up in his mind. You recovered quickly, he noted. A natural warrior. Even after such a defeat, you maintain your moral ground. You continue fighting with just as much zeal as before, even when stripped of your weapons. Oddly, he chuckled. I almost envy you.

“Delete the ‘almost’ and I might have an iota of respect for you,” Yakone retorted with an exhausted sigh.

I lost the right to that long ago, he said sadly. You are off the hook for now, however. I have what I wanted. The Arbiter will be anxious to see my report… regardless of how useless the information within may be. Azazel shuffled towards the door, but stopped at the threshold. I would advise you prepare yourself mentally for the days ahead, he warned. There may be more interrogations. Along with whatever ADVENT wants with you.

 

[MarineAvenger]

Heart of Stone Part One (MarineAvenger and ZombieSplitter53)

In the early morning hours of the beginning weekday, the hot water from a small bathroom sink was turned on, a pair of cupped hands reaching down to hold some of the water and bring it to the face of a young man, rubbing from chin to forehead with the soothing liquid to both relax and to wake up. Blue eyes stared back from the mirror above the water fixture, and the teen behind it slowly rubbed the side of his jaw. Looking satisfied, he exited the bathroom to proceed into the adjacent bedroom. Grabbing a black shirt he assumed was safe to wear, he pulled it over his head, grabbed his jacket, wallet and keys, leaving out through the front door from the living room of his apartment.

Jogging down the flight of stairs of the apartment building, the young man jumped from the last few steps to the ground and exited the front glass door into the slums of the Russian Megacity of Moscow. The streets despite the cold and the early time were fairly crowded with people moving about their business and the man moved in with the crowds, weaving about them to get to the bus stop that was three blocks from his home. Looking at the advertisement of the new gene clinic that opened up not far out of the slums, another spike of pride hit him as he knew that was where his new life would stem from. The job acquired at the gene clinic as a computer technician was a godsend, especially for a school dropout.

There was a poke from behind him and the young man turned to see his shaved headed best friend behind him, a slight grin on his face and calm demeanor that made him look like an arrogant asshole. Only in a good way of course. “Connor, my friend! It is good to see you again. How is the mother and the sister?” The young man asked joyously, the two locking hands and bumping their shoulders, transitioning into a brief hug where the two young man patted each other’s backs.

“They are fine, just fine. Mama misses you coming over, she yearns to make pelmeni for you once more. Why must you hurt her fragile spirit so?” The friend asked, laughing as he grabbed the man’s shoulder.

“Oh, things have been so busy Connor. There is taking care of the apartment, my new job, and balancing Anias all on top. The girl is as demanding as she is beautiful.” The young man noted with a bit of lovestruck nature to his voice.

“Artyom, Artyom, Artyom, she has that Russian blood in her veins. How she accepts a fool such as yourself…” Connor shrugged, “what are we ever going to do with you my friend?”

“Tie two cinderblocks to my ankles and throw me into the Moskva River likely before anything truly gets done. She may be hard headed, but I can be just as well.” The two friends shared a laugh, and the memory shortly faded as reality slowly returned.

Artyom’s optical receptors turned on and flickered several times, all eight of the red dots doing so simultaneously as they adjusted to the darkness around him. His literal internal clock told him it was early morning and the Russian hacker known as Rasputin slowly sat up from his makeshift bed in his closet home, going to rub his face.

His hands stopped short on the metal interface fused to his face, the memory of once being able to close his eyes and feel the water move across his face leaving a residual pain that was ghostly in nature, not quite real while not quite fake either. Reaching to the side, Artyom grabbed his jacket and hesitated on putting it on, the old habit making him feel a bit odd inside as he opened the door to the room to leave, trying to push away the memories of his nineteen year old self. Artyom kept his look mostly to the ground, not concerned what was around him.

"Whoa!" Jack held up his arms, grasping Artyom's shoulder to stop him from walking into the large man. "Gotta keep that chin up, friend."

Artyom looked up, giving his literal mechanical gaze to Jack as he did. Artyom studied the large black man a few moments with no intention to apologies before he remembered one of Catherine's many chastisements. "I am sorry." He responded sourly.

Jack nodded. "It's okay. Just don't want you to bump into someone that'll knock you over... or someone much smaller than you that you'd trip over." He looked back, Brigid standing behind them as he took a walk with her around the ship. "You alright? In my experience, most people don't study the ground unless they're feeling down."

"Studying the floor is much better then looking up. I do not like observing other people. Sometimes, it makes me feel quesy. People like to flaunt emotions." Crossing his arms, the Russian looked at the little girl next.

She gave him a naturally curious look, transfixed by his eye piece but clearly too nervous to ask. "Well, humans are beings of emotions," Jack stated. "I mean, you're not emotionless, are you?"

"If I am not then the only emotion I hold left is annoyance at others." And maybe the love of one... A small voice in the man's head said, and Artyom's jaw tightened. She indeed is the greatest of annoyances. He responded in his head sourly, glad there was no response.

"Oh, come now." Jack placed a hand on his back. "We're not all that annoying. Why, some of us are even quite pleasant to be around. I have a feeling you've given up trying to see that in people, though."

Artyom looked over at Jack's arm and pulled away. "To me, pleasantness and annoyance are synonyms. I have no interest in merry delights or fruitless activities anymore."

Jack let out a sad sigh. "Come now. There must be something..."

"What's that on your face?" Brigid finally blurted out, unable to hold back her curiosity. "How do you keep it on? Does it hurt?"

Artyom looked to the girl he dismissed previously, letting out a low, rumbling growl. "It is a computer interface and optical assistance device. It is melted to my face permanently. And yes, when I get headaches, think of yours but a thousand times more the intensity. The aliens maliciously placed it on and in me."

"Whoa," Brigid mumbled, frowning. "The aliens can be evil like that. They did the same thing to my mom. They hurt her really bad. I'm sorry the same happened to you."

"It happened. Being sorry doesn't really mean all that much." He told the blonde girl honestly, not giving her slack because she was a kid.

She lowered her gaze, staring at the floor, and Jack sighed. "Come on, man. We're just... no need to be so negative. We're just trying to talk. Don't be like that."

"Be like what? You people seem to forget sometimes life is not pleasant. It is not a fairy tale, and there are no happy endings. Everyone suffers. Why men like you try and act differently is beyond me." The Russian said, clenching a fist.

"Every moment of every day is not misery unless her make it that way," Jack responded firmly but calmly. "You're right. Sometimes life isn't pleasant. But sometimes it is. Sometimes life is wonderful. But not if you close your eyes to it. Not if you decide life is pointless and refuse to see it any other way, despite evidence to the contrary."

"I had my eyes taken from me." Artyom said coldly to Jack, his tone stoney. "I had everything taken. Everything. Who I was, what I was, and I was crafted to something else. A computer. A living one. Augmented in the worst ways. Men like you know very little about true suffering."

Jack slowly nodded. "You... you're right. I've had my fair share of hardships, but nothing like you. That is why it is up to men like me to help those who have." He waved his hand towards Brigid. "Take her mother. You two have a lot in common. Homes destroyed. Lives ruined. Something irreplaceable taken. And you can see the agony in her eyes sometimes. That is why I try to remind her that life is worth living. I could do the same for you... but only if you'll let me."

 

[MarineAvenger]

Heart of Stone Part Two

Artyom grunted, looking to the young girl. "And how old is she?"

"She just turned thirteen," Jack answered, Brigid still staring at the floor.

"A baby then. Much like one I once helped raise." Artyom admitted sourly.

Brigid looked up, giving him a sour look. "I... I am not a baby! I am a teenager now. I help around the base, I can watch certain movies now, and my boobs are growing, and mom says they can get even bigger anytime now, so I am not a baby."

"You're still a baby alright." The Russian said with such a whisper to it, it could almost seem like he was reminiscing.

Brigid blinked a few times in confusion, but simply folded and turned away in a huff. Jack gave the pair the smallest of smiles. "Who does she remind you of?" he asked in a knowing tone.

"A girl I had the pleasure of almost being the father of." Artyom said, his features softening from the depressing memory. "Before I was taken away to be... This. And her mother married and sired other young ones with another man. She was young. She loved me. Now, she would never recognize me."

"I see. I'm sorry to hear that." Jack lowered his gaze, letting out a long breath. "She reminds me of the son I lost to my own stubbornness. His mother took him away from me because I was putting them in too much danger. Now, he probably wouldn't remember me, and I'll likely never see him again."

"Well... At least I am not the only one who knows the struggle of being without a child to raise. I looked forward to being a father at one point. Not so sure anymore."

"W-why not?" Brigid looked back towards him. "You don't think... you'd be a good dad? Because I think your kid would think it's cool to have a dad with a superhero eye mask optic whatsit thing."

"You seem to misunderstand the purpose of this face mask girl." Artyom chastised.

"It's Brigid, mask face," she corrected. "And I heard you before. Computer interface and optical assistance. It helps you connect with computers, wirelessly I'm guessing, and it allows you to see, probably in a variety of different electromagnetic spectrums." She placed her hands on her hips. "Just because I'm a 'baby' like you think doesn't mean I'm stupid."

Jack chuckled nervously, not used to seeing Brigid like this. "Dear, let's... not be rude to... what was your name again, sir?"

"I never said. Artyom." He said, going closer to Brigid. "How were you able to deduce that?"

Brigid shrugged. "Say what you will about ADVENT and the megacities, but they have good school systems. Basic computer use is something they start to teach us in first grade. And Mr. Irons is a good tutor, and we recently went over electromagnetic radiation. And considering the alien's tendency to experiment, I doubt they would stop with just normal vision for you. With those multiple optic ports, I'm sure you can tell a whole bunch of things about me right now, from my body temperature to whether or not I'm lying based on my breathing and heart beat."

"Hmph... Too smart for your own good." The man noted gruffly, kneeling down. "But you are still a baby in my eyes. That view is likely not to be changed until we go separate ways."

"And why not?" Brigid narrowed her eyes. "What makes me such a 'baby'?"

"Your face. How cute you all. How angry you look right now being called a baby. Many things." The Russian man listed off scratchily, sounding rather monotone.

This only seemed to irritate the girl even more. Jack, never even knowing Brigid had a nerve to get on, stepped forward. "Maybe we should take a step..."

"Well, all I see from you is a bitter old man!" Brigid snapped. "One who treats me like a baby, all while he mopes and whines and pouts about things in the past like a big crybaby."

"A crybaby?" Artyom let out a bitter chuckle. "Do you know what the feeling of another person's skull feels like with your own fists? Gotten the sole of your shoe so bloody it sticks to the floor, both having been your previous friends? I do. I killed them like animals because I was forced to. Looked at their corpses for hours before they were taken away. So how about it, little girl? Think you could handle doing such a thing?" He asked bitterly.

Brigid's eyes widened, tears forming in them, and Jack said, "Okay, I think that's enough."

Brigid slowly shook her head, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I think... you are a sad, miserable man," she whispered, "who doesn't know how to deal with your pain. So your solution is to try and make everyone around you as sad and miserable as you are. I think the only way you can feel at least a little bit good... is by making others feel like you do... no matter what." She turned, and ran down the hall.

"Brigid!" Jack called out, but before he could make a move to stop her, she ducked into one of the service tunnels, one she used to move quickly about the ship and which Jack could never hope to squeeze into.

"Hmph." Artyom stood and touched his face mask. "Maybe it is better I never truly became a father."

Jack sighed, placing his hand over his eyes. "You just... you can't... treat someone like a little child, then say something to them that even another adult would be put off by, Artyom."

"If she did not wish to take the compliment I was giving her, then I will treat her like the adult she wished." The Russian man stated clearly. "It was her own fault for thinking she was grown up enough."

"What... compliment?" Jack asked tiredly. "Last I checked, teenagers don't like to be called babies."

"She is still yet innocent. Something this humanity sorely has lost. Not to mention the compliments I gave her before. Besides, to me, she still is a baby. Still very young." The man known as Rasputin pulled his hood further over head and turned. "Now if you don't mind I believe I will return to my room and sleep. I've lost the interest in getting out today."

Jack scoffed. "Yeah, sure. You can go back to sleep while I search an entire ship for a small girl who can hide in places I can't reach and, when I fail that, explain to her temperamental mother how I lost her..." He slowly walked away, saying, "If you decide you want to talk, you can usually find me in engineering. Otherwise... seek advice on how to speak with children, and avoid a woman named Morrigan O'Brien."

By the time Jack turned around for a response, Artyom was already half way down the hall. Jack let out another long sigh and rubbed his temples. "This is what happens when you try to help everyone, Jack," he mumbled, and went to go search Brigid's usual hiding places.

 

[MarineAvenger]

"Even The Stones May Weep" Part One (MarineAvenger and DarkGemini24601)

Artyom looked around the room before him as he entered, hood pulled forward to conceal his face, his late night excursion something of a rarity for the man. At this time, usually he would be asleep either dreaming of nothing or some abstract things he would no longer have the sense to remember. He looked at the extensive consoles before him in the low light easily, running his hand along a few keys but not fully pushing them as he approached the large central console he was looking for. Typing in a few commands, he activated the voice recognition software. “Validation Codename: Rasputin. Seshat… can you hear me?” The Russian hacker asked, hoping he would not have to do something flashy to get the attention of the shipboard A.I.

The synthetic being materialized to his side. “What can I help you with, technician?”

“I have a task I wish to ask your assistance in. But first, I would like to say that you look to be doing well since you have adjusted. Your integration went well. Many people have grown fond of their artificial woman in their comms.” The hacker noted, moving back to the console as he began typing something in.

“That is good to hear. I am glad I have been of assistance,” Seshat responded with a slight nod.

“Good. Because I need your assistance with this…” Artyom brought up the hologram of the program he put in and ‘closed’ his eyes, establishing a connection to the console. “I will be going into my memories. I… I believe I may have a bug. A virus in my system so to say.”

“...I do not believe that a human’s memory can be corrupted, barring biokinetic interference,” Seshat contested with a confused look.

Artyom shook his head, looking to the projection of the Codex and explained saying, “It is more of a… sort of metaphorical bug. My brain was largely converted into a computer like network. My memories are stored within that computer system. So while it is not a physical problem with the code, there is something in there tormenting me. I wish to come to terms against my greatest fear. I need your help navigating the memories properly… and I wish not to be alone in my mind.” The Russian grumbled icily.

“I… should be able to interface with your memories as you did mine. I only hope I can be the comfort which you seek…” Seshat sounded unsure. “My experience with empathy is… shaky at best. Perhaps this will be a learning experience, however.”

“A win-win then. Come… we must get started before An-Yi or someone may find us. This is not exactly being authorized. But it is something I must do. I must…” Sitting against the console on the floor, letting out a deep breath as he fully completed the connection and his consciousness was transferred into the digital world in a flash of blue light.

When Artyom opened his ‘eyes’, he looked around at large blue pillars coming out from the pixelated floor, turning his red spider gaze all around. “Seshat? Are you here, dear?”

The semi-organic AI appeared across from him - taking on a different form than usual. This time, she appeared not in her synthetic form, but as a human woman with blond hair and gold-colored irises, dressed in a formal black-and-white business suit. “I am present. The link is holding steady.”

He glanced over the new look and slowly nodded approval. Next Artyom’s gaze went to the nearest pillar and he walked towards it, taking in the structure. The tall pillar had many tablet like slots within it, each marked with a date and some old Russian written language. His hands moved over them, and he pulled out one, pressing a button on the left side of the device, the world falling away as in its place formed something akin to the real world, Artyom and Seshat standing in the middle of a snowy park in what appeared to be a metropolitan city, and the hacker seemed to recognize the location. “This is the Moscow Megacity… this park… I remember it quite vividly…”

“I assume we are about to see why,” Seshat noted.

Artyom nodded, pointing a finger forward. Across from them, a pair walked besides one another, a man and a woman. The woman had dark hair that matched the man’s, her hair done up in a small bun on the back of her head, wearing a black winter coat and pants. The man was laughing at something, and soon the woman joined in, Artyom’s face falling. “This is the place I proposed to the woman I loved. The one I was posed to marry before I was taken away. Her name was Cheska. She was a store clerk who lived two buildings away. Her favorite food pumpkin bread… always smelled of lavender perfume.” He explained almost absent-mindedly to the computer program besides him, frowning as the man got down on a knee and the woman shouted with glee.

“This should be a happy memory then, should it not?” Seshat questioned.

“That woman later went on to forget about me quickly. She married someone else, and had his children. Had a happy life that should have been mine. This is a bitter memory to me…” Grabbing the neck of his jacket, he sighed. He looked to the side and noticed there was a figure seeming to look at them, dressed in black with hood concealing the features underneath. A cold feeling went through Artyom. “Come. Let us get away from here…”

The world paused and the world returned to the hub in which they started in, Artyom walking past the scattered pillars slowly to read the labels of the tablets. “If you ever wish to leave, you may. I will not keep you if things become gruesome for you.”

“...I have seen many things,” Seshat responded vaguely. “That will not be an issue.”

Looking to the side, he placed a hand on the ‘woman’s’ shoulder. “The offer stands later.” Stopping, he reach out again once more and pulled out a new device, pressing the button and soon they stood in a laboratory. Artyom laid on a surgical bed, no interface on him just yet but there were bandages around his head suggesting something had been done.

“Procedures came and went daily. Some days I had gotten lucky and was not worked on at all. Sometimes they were multiday affairs. None were particularly painless. I got to a point where I was so malnourished from not wanting to eat that they started using injections to feed me and keep me hydrated. Though even then they played their games. They… used different drugs. Some dulled me like into a log state… or a potato… and others… others stimulated my various senses or emotions. The worst part is I never fought back… thought it was all normal and I was doing my part. That one day there would be hope of finding Cheska again. But no… no, was never to be.” Looking around, Artyom sigh. “And we still have yet to find the virus. I wished this to be a quick endeavor.”

“I am patient. We can continue,” Seshat responded with a shrug. “Their treatment of you was… unethical, at least by the standards I have been made aware of via XCOM.”

“Yes… and I was too naive to realize that at the time.” The Russian let loose another sigh and tried to cut off the connection, but nothing happened and they remained in the memory. Again, once more nothing happened. “I am unable to leave… weird. Seshat, please remove us.”

“One moment.” The synthetic lifted her hands to either side, but holographic panels only briefly flickered before being canceled out. “Odd… I am unable to perform that function.”

“I… what is-” Suddenly the two felt as if something like a fizzle was moving down their body, the world staticing like how an antique television might have and then the room was darker, more disorganized. An even more grim looking Artyom laid on the table, looking to the side as the door opened and two doctors stepped in, going on either side of him. He was helped -though it looked more forced- up and began being dragged out. “Seshat… follow please…” The Russian hacker ordered a bit silently, moving forward after the men.

As the two walked down the hallway, things began experiencing more glitches. The ceiling shifted lighting from time to time as the floors shifted in between dirty and clean. Looking at the mess, he inquired, “See anything like this before?”

“I have not seen memories actively jarred in this manner, no,” Seshat replied with a shake of her head. “It is quite irregular for a human mind.”

“The virus… it must be the answer… it…” Artyom trailed off as he stopped, the doctors and his younger self up ahead. H was propped against the wall, one doctor holding him while the other injected a needle right into the Russian’s neck. “No…” The second doctor opened up a cell door, allowing the first to push the younger once gene clinic worker inside. “Not this… please…”

The scene forcibly changed around them, the Russian man backing up till he hit a wall, which was realistically only two paces back from how small the cell was. He closed his eyes and wished things to stop.

 

[MarineAvenger]

"Even The Stones May Weep" Part Two

“A… Artyom? Is that you? Oh… it is… nice to see you brother. When they separated us I thought it would be awhile before we spoke again. Are… you okay?” the The familiar voice of Connor asked.

“Go on you black-haired bastard, do what was told of you.” One of the doctors goaded, earning a chuckle from the other.

The patient Artyom walked towards Connor who chuckled nervously. “W-What is going on here? Artyom? Helloooo? Anyone… home in there?” His back soon hit a wall and his look became worried, then scared. “Artyom!?”

Despite how weak the Russian man looked, when his fist connected with Connor’s head, it was close enough to the wall that it struck it hard, causing the other Slavic man to drop to his side, holding his head. “There we go. Serums working like a charm…” Another doctor noted.

“No… No! It was not me. I was not myself. I was not myself…” A shaking Artyom said, his head moving side to side. “Please, let me out. Let me out!”

“HEEEEEELP!” Connor yelled, his screams full of terror as Artyom’s foot dropped down into his head hard, Artyom doing so over and over again, his screams turning into slight gurgling chokes. Dropping to his knees, he began using his fists, soon turning the head of his once best friend into a caved in bloody pulp.

The real Artyom’s hands went over his head but there was the stickiness of crimson on them, causing the man to huddle down. “Seshat! Please! Make it stop! End it!”

“I-I cannot…” Seshat stammered. “It won’t let me… why won’t it…!”

Suddenly the entire room shook as they was a loud explosion somewhere close by, the past Artyom having gone but the corpse was still there, Artyom looking up at the sound of yells. “I… the… liberation.” He said hollowly, his tone cracking ever so slightly. “When XCOM came and rescued me from this hell.”

There was the sound of boots coming from down the hall but gradually as the boots got closer they seemed to decrease in density from a group running to merely a single person walking at a slow pace. That person came into view in front of the door the black hooded figure Artyom had glanced at the park before, and realization dawn on him. The door opened and the hacker stood, grabbing Seshat and pulling her away. The figure stepped in, indeed dressed in the exact way as Artyom. The difference was once the hood came down there was no face mask with spider like eyes. In fact, there was quite literally nothing. It was a head with a mouth and where the corners of the upper lip began, red incision lines ran all the way up the perimeter of where a human’s normal facial features would be. However there was no nose, no eyes, and no hair whatsoever.

“You are the virus,” Seshat registered, narrowing her eyes. “You are an illogical being,” she spoke resolutely, fear not being one of the emotions she understood more strongly. “You do not belong here.”

There were no words, just a slow, rhythmic breathing. It slowly walked forward, then at a moment’s notice lunged at Seshat, Artyom jumping away as the virus grabbed hold of the artificial woman and knocked her down, arms around her neck. While breathing was impossible for her, the harder he squeezed her neck, the more black, jagged lines moved up and down her neck, rendering her weaker and weaker.

Irrational. An error such as you should not have a tangible effect. The synthetic struggled, but try as she might none of her psionic abilities were properly manifesting.

The virus got its face close and opened its mouth, letting out a piercing, electronical screech as the lines slowly grew farther and farther up her body, the program feeling like almost as if she was getting lighter, losing a part of herself.

When it seemed like she was on the path of completely dissolving away, there was a large bang, the virus jerking as it fell off the other program, rolling around on the ground. Artyom held a firearm in hand, his hand shaking, his body extremely ‘sweaty’, dropping to the floor. The virus rolled around, letting out another screech as the same black lines from before spread about its body at rapid pace before it dissolved , falling away into nothingness. Moments later, Artyom crawled to the side of the room, slowly heaving up nothing, though gagged and coughed, ready to throw up though fortunately had no viable stomach to throw it up from. He breath heavily, and Seshat heard a strange sound indeed. It was the sound of weeping coming from the Russian man.

“A-Are you alright?”Seshat asked him, slowly pushing herself up.

Artyom shook his head, slamming a fist against the cement floor, though felt no pain. “I cannot even cry… I can’t anymore. They took everything. Why… why was I the one who was chosen to get this burden placed on me? Am I even a man anymore?” He yelled in agony, turning and sitting against the wall, putting a hand over his face.

“I would argue you remain more human than I currently am,” Seshat returned. “I am still learning what it means to be fully sentient and aware of myself.”

“I’ve suffered so much… you’ve seen fractions Seshat… merely fractions of years upon years of this… torture.” Artyom said despairingly. Things remained silent, the Russian shaking his head. “Seshat… may I… ask you a question?”

“You may,” she answered briefly.

“Why do you wish to feel sentient? What do you hope to gain?” He asked softly, clearing his tone of anything but sadness.

“My role has always been a datakeeper… when I came to the Avenger that did not change. I am meant to store and comprehend knowledge… but that process is incomplete if I cannot fully understand what it is that drives people. I do not feel superior based purely off logic, and I am not purely a machine. Therefore, to complete myself I must connect more with my organic half.”

How many times have I made others feel bad because of my own pain? Why did I feel so superior to them? “I see…” The Russian man kept his face hidden, letting out a sigh. “Please… take us back to reality. We are done here.”

Seshat nodded, lifting her hands. This time, the panels remained in place, and she was able to terminate the session.

Artyom’s consciousness slowly returned to him, his body covered in a layer of sweat, likely from his mental exertion inside the program. He had a few solemn thoughts to himself, such things like, I can’t live in the past… I can’t anymore. Why? Why do I suffer? Why do I feel so terrible? “Seshat… are… you there?”

“I am right here. Are you well? You took awhile to awaken,” Seshat noted worriedly.

Artyom kept his head hanging low, thinking on the question. “I… I will be fine. I need time… time to… think about some things.” There was silence, and no movement. Finally, there was one last thing. “Seshat, I… have something to tell you.”

The synthetic - back to her normal form - tilted her head slightly. “Yes?” she queried.

“I cannot wait until the day you finally complete your sentience. You… no matter what many may say… you are better than most humans are.” Artyom raised his head, pulling down his hood. Staring up at the Codex were eight blue tinted eyes. “Thank you for sharing in my pain.”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and MarineAvenger: “Family Reunion, Part 1"

North American Continent
Former United States of America
Specifically, the Lower American Precinct
Chicago Megacity, October 4th, 2038
2021 Hours, Local Time

Yakone sat in another chair, bound by another set of restraints, in another darkened interrogation room. Such settings were beginning to wear her down mentally, her usually energetic flair replaced with a faintly lethargic acceptance. There was little she could do at the moment to change her circumstances,. Despite doing her best to outwardly maintain defiance whenever a guard would step into the room, Yakone knew that fact. Her slothfulness wasn’t solely due to the environment, however. The psionic-blocking apparatus attached to her wrists - binding them behind her back uncomfortably - that additionally traced along her spine and ended at the central back portion of her head was the other culprit. The device cut her off from the flow of her neural energies - not completely, but enough that she could tangibly feel how powerless she was.

At first it had been an annoyance, but now it was starting to grate on her. To Yakone, who prided herself immensely in her psionic abilities, having them nullified left her with a feeling of inadequacy, disappointment, and ultimately queasiness. It felt unnatural and wrong. The thought of this brought - as it had a few times before - a deep frustration to the forefront of Yakone’s mind. She strained her muscles briefly against the cuffs, but they barely budged - and certainly did not shift beyond the miniscule allowance for movement they provided. Sighing helplessly, Yakone lowered her head slightly, glancing down at the ground only to be weakly perturbed by how similar it was to the other five panels that made up the box-like room. I hate being this powerless, Yakone lamented.

To her dismay, the sound of the door opening was apparent - and the rhythm of boots knocking against the floor accompanied it. A deep voice spoke in a commanding tone, though this one was human. “I do not wish to be disturbed when talking with this prisoner. Go wait until I come out, and do not disturb me for any reason before so. Understood?” There were sounds of acknowledgement as the troops saluted and the door closed once more.

When Yakone looked up, the man before her was dressed unlike a soldier - in fact, wearing no armor at all. What his attire consisted of was instead a primarily black jacket with red lines running up along the arms and onto the shoulders with the symbol for Advent on the left chest side. The man wore it open, underneath clad in a plain gray shirt and a pair of black combat pants, a sidearm strapped to his thigh. His hair was buzzed short and dark black, but with some minor streaks of gray, as well as a very short beard that was colored much the same. Dark red eyes stared at the restrained woman. “Hello.”

Yakone’s emerald-hued orbs returned the gaze with equal intensity, for a moment studying - in the next flaring up in recognition. “Y-you!” she cried out upon realizing exactly who she was staring down.

Desmond said nothing for a few moments, merely looking at the girl. “You look just like your mother in a lot of ways,” he spoke gruffly, running a hand across his forehead. “But not in every way.”

A few seconds ticked by as Yakone’s expression flitted between somberness, outrage, and simple confusion - the Ranger for once not sure what to say. Finally settling on something, she stated, “I’d like to think I take after her in regards to the important things. Loyalty comes to mind.”

There was a tightness in Desmond’s jaw - but other than that, no change in his facial features. “Maybe, but I see you got my attitude. My wit as well… pride. From the reports, you are a spitting image of me as a teenager.” Closing his eyes, he turned and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome, nor anything too much. But I am sure you at least have questions. You may have surmised by now, but this is not an interrogation session. Mooks outside don’t know that though.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to you. When it counts, we’re nothing alike,” Yakone growled, the flicker of hatred lingering in her eyes. “I don’t know that I even have anything to ask you. I have a feeling that any answers you provide will be self-serving justifications.”

“You don’t know unless you ask.” The Colonel stated simply. “But if you insist on just being stubborn… I need to ask. How’s Atka?” The man inquired simply. “Not as an enemy, but something else. Please, be honest…”

“Why the hell should I be? What have you done to deserve anything from me?” Yakone snapped.

“When I learned who exactly Nouja had captured, I requested you be brought here to be looked after under my care. I saved you from a much harder time being a prisoner. As much as it puts a bad taste on my tongue.” Desmond explained, closing his eyes. “Please Yakone… Answer me and I’ll give you a little insight on the other side of the story.”

Yakone did not reply for awhile. Closing her eyes for a moment, she swallowed and then said dryly, “fine. Beats dying a slow death of boredom.” Lifting her eyelids again, the Ranger elaborated, “she’s been alright. It’s not easy spending two decades fighting against the same enemy with almost no resources at all, though the progress we’ve made towards our goals in the past two months has given her a lot more energy.” Yakone shook her head. “She hates you just as much as I do, though. If you were looking for another answer, sorry, but that’s how it is.”

“I didn’t need you to tell me she hated me. I pretty much discerned that myself.” There was something else to his tone that betrayed his stalwart attitude but before Yakone could figure out the exact emotion, he went back to being stony. “In return, I suppose I’ll tell you why you left the original X-COM project. I’ll skip the boring parts and get straight to the point. We were getting our asses kicked. Mission failure after failure. Our Commander was incompetent, and the only thing that kept me going was my friends and your mother. When they attacked the base, I lost both of those things. Many of my friends literally, and Atka… to her fight. I couldn’t understand why she wished to continue. Filled with despair, I ran and planned to never show my face again. Then they found me again, and I found a way to make a difference. To stop the errors of the old world, I wouldn’t allow it to fall back into chaos. ADVENT is nowhere near perfect, nor the aliens. But it is still the lesser of two evils. You wouldn’t completely understand.”

“Like hell I wouldn’t!” Yakone cried out. “ADVENT is the lesser of two evils? I’ve heard some shitty things about some of the old world governments, but they certainly didn’t abduct people by the thousands and dump them into vats!”

“True… but how many people of the old world suffered as a result of people in the high up positions? Oligarchy was the new face of democracy. The Council of Nations… they were the crux of that problem. At least now, in the span of things, people who choose to submit get the chance to live happily. It is not a perfect system, and I will not defend personally the things the aliens do. To be honest I trust them as far as I can throw them… but I have my job, and that is to protect the many.”

“They get the chance,” Yakone cast emphasis on. “Not a guarantee. Not anywhere near that. The world wasn’t perfect before the aliens took over, but at least we had control of our own fates. Now we’re subject to the whims of a totally foreign empire.”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and MarineAvenger: “Family Reunion, Part 2"

“Not the first in history. Just usually never this extreme though I will admit.” Desmond pushed off against the wall and shook his head. “No more debating the pros and cons of the old versus the new. How Joe stood to debate for hours on end always perplexed me. Speaking of which… the old guy and his girls doing alright?”

“They’re fine. Some of them getting along a little better than others… but it could be a lot worse,” Yakone responded vaguely.

“I wish I could see them. The girls. They were so tiny last time I saw them. Jennifer could barely speak properly without her sister’s help.” He closed his eyes, clenching a fist. “I wish a great many things… though none more than that I wish I knew Atka had been pregnant. If I had known… I would have never left. Even during those moments I walked away, I still loved her, and I was hollowed out inside having to lose my first and only love. You would have changed that.” Finally, Desmond let slip the profound sadness that he had kept in, his face softening. In an equally soft whisper he said, “I suppose what’s done is done though.”

“The past can’t be changed. You’ve made yourself a grave you can’t escape from,” Yakone responded neutrally, though in this context it was plenty harsh. “I’m not perfect… something I’ve faced a lot lately…” she sighed, the topic not something she wanted to discuss too deeply - especially with him. “But never have I considered turning my back on those I care about - even those I dislike that I fight alongside - simply because things might seem hopeless. You may regret what you did, but that doesn’t change the fact that it was cowardice.”

“Maybe not you personally, but I am not so certain you can say that about all of your friends.” Desmond got close to Yakone, holding up a hand, squeezing it hard. “I… I never even knew you… existed until a few months ago Yakone. If you were in my shoes, how would you feel learning one of your greatest achievements in life was under your nose for almost two decades?”

“I’d feel pretty shitty. Doesn’t mean I sympathize with you,” Yakone returned coldly.

Desmond rubbed the top of his head, shaking his head. “Want to know one of the biggest reasons I don’t leave this behind me entirely? As you’ve pointed out so eloquently, you don’t agree with anything ADVENT does. So why do you think I continue to do this other then to feel all warm and fluffy after a day’s good work?” He asked with his own cold sarcasm to it.

“You don’t have a choice,” Yakone was quick to finish for him. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what the fucking Declension that tortured me told me too. You have a choice to die with your dignity, but you’re too scared to go out swinging.”

“Suicide is a coward’s way out, and no, you are completely wrong.” Desmond snapped, narrowing his eyes. “Think harder. You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you know there is something more I want to protect then the random people I serve to protect and my troops. Even if she did put a shockstaff through your chest…” When he recalled what happened to her, his tone was not at all pleased.

“She’s… not in any danger from the Protectorate,” Yakone contested. “The fact that she’s been reduced to a brainwashed puppet means they don’t have anything to worry about from me. If Blukersey had any chance of recalling who she was naturally… she wouldn’t have tried to kill me twice.”

“You’re wrong,.” he said, staring at Yakone deadly seriously. “When I first learned Blue was Nouja, I called her by her first name. There was no recognition there, but afterwards I got a stern talking to by the Elder who handles her… I don’t think her mind wipe was completely effective. And I think they know that. I don’t know. I’m just hoping there is some way to get her back to normal. Working with her is not exactly the easiest.”

Yakone chuckled grimly. “I already had to give this information up to the Declension, so I can tell you this… there is a way to bring her back. We stole a storage device containing Nouja’s memories from that one skyscraper in South America… all we need to do is figure out how to jam them back into her head and remind her who she really is. Pretty damn ironic that if you’d stuck with us you’d be on the path to rescuing her, isn’t it?”

“Enough of the goading Yakone. Though the fact she had her memories literally taken… chilling thought to say the least. Though if there is one thing I know, if you want to save Nouja, you will have to take out her handler. Fail to do that, and you will never save her. I am not one willing to chance the fact if she learned Cordiam was slain and that you were coming down on her, she wouldn’t try and take her own life. Then try giving her memories back to her.” Clearing his throat, he continued on. “So keep this in mind… you want to have you aunt back, find a way to make sure that Elder can’t merely track her down or some shit like that. That alien certainly is crafty in her own way, and Nouja is her star pet. I would be more surprised to learn if she had no counter-measures at all.”

“Not that I’m ungrateful for the ideas… stuff I’m sure the people on my side are considering… but why are you giving me suggestions?” Yakone responded with an eyebrow raised. “It’s typically a really bad tactic to spill your guts to the enemy.”

“Believe whatever you want or not, but I do love you. I have ever since I first laid eyes on my flesh and blood. I am also not an idiot. You aren’t staying here forever. Atka won’t allow that. As far as I am concerned, you are no enemy of mine. Try and kill me if you wish, go right ahead and try out on the battlefield. I’ll fight the woman I love, God only knows if I could ever pull the trigger on her. But never you. Despite what you believe… I am not a heartless monster.” He pulled away from his daughter, taking a few steps back.

“You’re callous as hell towards anyone that isn’t family, but no… I don’t think you are,” Yakone responded with a sigh. “You’re just the biggest fool I’ve ever met. You could have had such a happy life, even on the run… and you threw it all away in a moment of weakness. You could have been a good person if you’d just had a bit more faith. If you hadn’t abandoned hope.” The freedom fighter glanced up at the ceiling. “The Elders are even stupider than I realized for putting you in charge of their human armies… you seem ripe for defection at any point. What are you going to do when one of them tries to read your mind and sees all these treasonous tendencies?”

“Tell them to go to hell. Seems to have worked so far.” Rolling his shoulder, Desmond added, “As long as I stay in line, the Elders leave me alone. It’s been like that for a while now, and Cordiam is already aware of how I feel about you. I just have to take things one step at a time.” Putting his hands in his pocket, Desmond looked down at the floor. “I’m proud of you Yakone. I’ve heard of your exploits from my men’s reports. Even if it is for the opposing side to mine…” He glanced back at the door he had entered from, turning back to the girl. “I’m going to have to leave. Don’t need them getting on my case because I am taking too long.”

“Wish I could say the same rosy emotions extended to you, but they don’t.” Yakone looked back down at Desmond. “All I can say is that it might be a bit harder to fight you when the time comes… but there are things that matter more than my personal feelings. Justice. Freedom. I’ll uphold the principles I value. That’s who I am.”

That only made the Colonel smirk. “Got a bit of your mother in there too I suppose. I can’t promise things will be easy until a rescue comes for you, but I’ll do my best to make sure things don’t go overboard. And I’ll try to keep an eye on you when I can. I’d still like to get to know you in the time I have.” He walked to the door, holding his hand in place before turning his head slightly. “I love you Yakone. No matter what the future paths hold.” With that, he opened the door and departed, replacing his features with stone once more to go back to work as the guards flanked his sides.

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

ZombieSplitter53 and DarkGemini24601: “Biological Magnetism, Part 1”

Kyushu, one of the islands of Japan
0912 Hours, October 5th, 2038
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 2, Central Block
Laundry Room

Jennifer let out a loud, lengthy yawn as she shuffled into the least exciting room in the entire ship, mumbling to herself about how she wished it was Alexis’ turn to wash the clothes. Though, to be fair, Alexis had a boyfriend to keep company and a soldier’s figure to keep up. At least that is what Alex would tell her sister when Jenn complained. “I hate this,” the green-haired woman muttered, not even sure exactly what she was referring to. So she just dragged the basket along, and stuffed one of the industrial-sized washers full. “At least we don’t have to pay this laundry mat.”

After about a minute of idly watching the clothes churned around, the scientist heard the doors open and a pair of people walk in. They were temporarily obscured behind a wall of smaller dryers as they conversed. It was a little difficult to hear them over the mechanical noises of the machinery combined with the watery sounds of the washers, but without anything better to do at the moment Jennifer was able to discern what was being said regardless.

“-really Stacie, I’m fine,” a calm voiced woman responded to something that had been said previously. “I managed to deal with that elite Mogul, didn’t I?”

Stacie, sounding more animated and plenty stubborn, retorted, “only because I was there to help. Come on, Olivia, all I’m asking is that you take it easy for a week or two… you’re not going to be much help if just looking at your Reflection-”

“-a-alright, I understand,” Olivia responded defeatedly, clearly not eager to venture into the topic Stacie was broaching. “I’ll get some R&R, I just hope I don’t suffer from boredom…”

Stacie’s voice began a bit somber. “Yeah, I won’t leave you alone. You don’t have to deal with this all by yourself. Don’t forget that.” It sounded like she had patted her friend on the back. “I’ll see you around. Remember, careful with the dress shirts… buttons are damnably hard to find and replace.”

“Just as long as you don’t mess with my jacket again,” Olivia informed her friend lightly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stacie conceded, the door closing soon after.

Jennifer thought as Stacie departed, recognizing the voices from the various missions she had watched. With one gone, she settled into returning to her solitude with nothing else to listen to. But before that could happen, she remembered how she was supposed to be more outgoing, and solve her issue with solitude by trying to be more open to talking to others. With a deep breath, she rose from her seat in front of the swirling vortex of soap, water, and cloth, and walked over to where Olivia was. “U-uh…” she said, not the strongest start to a conversation. “H-hello.”

Olivia offered a smile in return. Her features - though dampened a little in intensity by the stress she had been other - were still remarkably vibrant for how otherwise plain they were. Her hair was a simple, luscious brown and stretched down to the middle of her back, her eyes were the same color yet dazzlingly lustrous, and her skin was a creamy color a few shades away from typical white - indicating some Native American heritage. She wasn’t wearing much of her usual attire today, having only a simple purple shirt on combined with black pants. The constants were present though - Olivia proudly wore her leather Royal Canadian Air Force jacket over her shoulders, and her sunrise-colored aviators rested on the top of the Ambusher’s head.

“Hello,” Olivia returned. “You’re… Jennifer Chambers, right?”

“That’s right,” Jenn answered, being recognized throwing her off for some reason. “You’ve worked with my sister, right? Um… Olivia… um…”

“I’ve been on operations with her before. I mainly know you from Yakone, though… she mentioned you before,” Olivia explained, seeming a bit apologetic for apparently making Jennifer uncomfortable.

“Right… of course.” Jenn let out a small laugh, moving a hair out of her vision. “So, um… washing some clothes?” She closed her eyes briefly. Stupid question, Jennifer…

“Mostly Stacie’s at her request,” Olivia remarked with a chuckle. “Apparently she needs to be practicing marksmanship right now… I guess I can’t disagree that she needs the practice. It’s a common thought amongst my squadmates that the Gunslinger class was created to distinguish her and her semi-legendary DMR inaccuracy from the rest of the Sharpshooters.”

“That’s… quite an accomplishment. But…” Jenn shrugged her shoulders. “You’re… no slouch yourself. I saw your last mission. It was impressive.”

It’d be better if I could summon Pavise without traumatizing myself, the Ambusher thought to herself. Audibly, she replied humbly, “it certainly wasn’t all me. Stacie helped me out when I needed the backup, and Leon and Pysma as always make an excellent team, as do the Sergeant and his sister kick ass when they fight together.”

“Y-yeah, I guess so.” Jennifer scratched her cheek nervously. I hope I didn’t say anything wrong. How does Alex socialize so easily? “Well, um… I-I’ve seen your other fights too. You’re a real team player from what I’ve seen. Work well with others. I guess you’re like… black. Like, um… the color I mean, ‘cause you… go well with… every… ahem…”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I get the metaphor, but alright. I am supposed to be the second command of my squad, even if I don’t have an official rank to show it.”

“Right… right.” The young lab tech searched for something to comment on. “So… taking some… time off? I… I wasn’t eaves… I just happened to overhear.”

Olivia nodded slowly, her expression sobering. “Yeah. I still haven’t… fully recovered from losing my squadmate.”

“Oh… right. Christine, right?” Jennifer looked like she wanted to bite her own tongue. “Ayame was broken up about her… and Yakone. But I heard…” She realized something she should have before. “I heard one of her squadmates took it exceptionally bad. I… I guess that was you, huh?”

“Yeah. I’m not going to burden you with the details, but it has been rough.”

Jenn nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up such sad thoughts.” She lowered her gaze. “I’m not… very good at… making good conversation.”

“It’s alright. Not a skill everyone is an expert with,” Olivia reassured her.

“S-still… the woman you were talking to sounded like a really good friend. Like she really cared about you. I bet everyone in your squad is like that.” Jennifer smiled big. “It must be great having so many close comrades.”

“I’m lucky to have friends like her to support me,” Olivia agreed. Seeking to steer the conversation to something other than her personal struggles for reasons both selfish and selfless, the Ambusher asked, “you’re part of the science team, right? What specifically do you do?”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

ZombieSplitter53 and DarkGemini24601: “Biological Magnetism, Part 2”

Jenn’s eyes lit up a bit now that they were on a subject she was familiar with. “Well, I’m well versed in biology, molecular biology, and genetics. I help out in a variety of areas, work with Dr. Tygan in many of his experiments, and I take care of most of the autopsies.”

“So you probably know more about the aliens than any of the rest of us, huh? That’s really impressive,” Olivia commented.

“No, no… I mean… I-I guess I do. I’ve literally been elbows deep in practically every… um…” Jenn let out another nervous laugh. “I mean, I’ve studied them from a biological standpoint. I present my findings to the good doctor and make them available for others, like the soldiers, to study but… I don’t know if anyone does. But at least I’ve helped to give the labs some ideas for the cool gizmos they make for you guys.”

“Well, I know that two of my squad members have put a little study into alien anatomy to make their shots count more, if that helps,” Olivia offered gently. “And the gifts, of course, are much-appreciated on the battlefield.”

The green haired scientist giggled softly. “Anything I can do to help. Though it really is a team effort. I guess it’s the same for us as it is for you soldiers… just without the dangers of the battlefield. We only have to worry about the occasionally combustible alien material.”

“You’re… talking about the Chryssalid Drakes, right? Glad we’ve only seen those suckers once,” Olivia noted thankfully.

“I think they’re dangerous to handle, so it would fit that they’re not used that much. Either that, or they’re just saving the bulk of them for a special occasion.” Jennifer blinked a couple times, and frowned. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to turn this into a scientific lecture.”

“Hey, it’s something that you enjoy talking about. That’s good enough for me,” Olivia stated with a shrug.

“Well, um…” Jenn sat down. “What about you? What do you enjoy talking about?”

Olivia rolled her neck a little. “Well, I’m a huge fan of aviation, though some of that can get a little complex and probably outside your specialization. I am a fan of hair styling too… got that interest from my mother. Green’s an unusual choice, but not a bad look for you.”

“O-oh… th-thank you.” Jenn twirled a green lock. “You know, I can’t even remember why I chose this color. Of course… you pull off your look well. You obviously have a natural beauty most girls would envy.” She blushed. “If… i-if you don’t mind me saying so…”

“Don’t worry, the only person that can embarrass me with compliments is my mom. She makes a big deal out of my looks and how I shouldn’t change them all the time… she’s almost as shameless as my roommate,” the Ambusher replied with a shake of her head.

“So your mom is still around, huh?” Jennifer gave her a gentle smile. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“Back when we visited Toronto. Our family used to live there, before ADVENT dissolved the Canadian government and slowly cut off funding for nonessential cities to encourage people to migrate to their metropolises,” Olivia explained. “Stacie and I are fortunate that our families are largely intact. I know not everyone is so lucky.”

Jenn nodded knowingly. “I hope… we can let you seem them again in the near future. My father is on the ship with us, and while that can produce its share of problems and embarrassment, he is an ever-present source of inspiration. I can’t imagine getting as far as I have without him… or without my sister. They’re a help that… I guess I take for granted sometimes. Lord know I wouldn’t be able to make it on my own.”

“My dad was the one to get me into aviation… probably would have joined the air force if the alien’s hadn’t taken over the skies,” Olivia mused. “This jacket’s actually his, which is why it looks a little big on me.”

“Tell me what it is about aviation that you love so much.” Jennifer gave a look a honest curiosity. “You listened to me gush. Now I want to learn about you more.”

“Well…” Olivia began, “to be pretty blunt, the start of my love affair began with fast engines. As a kid I would always pester dad with questions, asking him when he’d fly something like a Blackbird… he would always lightly admonish me that it was the Americans that have the fancy, expensive crap.” Olivia’s eyes sparkled with amusement at the memory. “As I got older I wanted to learn how they worked, particularly two parts. The first one’s fairly standard, and that was their payloads. Their weaponry, the big guns and explosives. I definitely had a phase where I was obsessed with bombers. The other half is a little odd, but I wanted to know about the electronics. How all the systems worked, how to possibly improve them, what things could be automated for optimization,” the soldier rattled off.

“Did you ever consider flying one of our ships when our overworked pilot needs a break?” Jennifer asked. “I bet it would feel good, getting your hands on those controls.”

“I don’t know… Danielle spends a lot of time around the Skyranger. She might be a jealous parent.” Olivia sighed, closing her eyes and daydreaming. “But man… the Skyranger is so freaking speedy!” Olivia said at a slightly higher octave than she realized. “Plasma engines were just a wet dream when I was growing up, but now we go everywhere with them in this organization!”

Jennifer couldn’t help but laugh, Olivia’s excitement contagious, even if she blushed a little at Olivia’s choice of words. “It is amazing, isn’t it? We spend so much time with the scary parts of this struggle, we tend to forget how amazing all this technology is!” She grinned. “Maybe if Danielle knew how much you adored the skyranger, she would be like a mother who cautiously lets her daughter date someone.”

“Maybe… I might eventually work up the courage to ask.” Olivia’s expression softened. “You know, if you don’t mind me pointing this out, you’re really cute when you smile.”

“O-oh? I…” Jennifer blushed again, this time more noticeably. “I, um… th-thank you.” Her eyes darted towards and away from Olivia. “I… you… I could say the same about you for when you get excited.” Oh… that came out wrong…

Olivia smiled herself. “Thank you,” she said. True to her word, she didn’t seem bashful about being complemented.

Jennifer’s eyes finally rested on the floor, staring down at her feet. After an awkward period of silence, she finally asked, “If… i-if you’re not… nnnnot busy sometime in the future… would you like to… hang out… a little?”

“I shouldn’t be busy with awhile, so I can and would love to,” Olivia agreed.

“Good… great! Um… great...:” Jennifer quickly stood up. “Um… I, uh… I better… check to make sure I didn’t… miss any clothes. M-my sister always shoves something under her bed.”

Realizing what Jennifer was doing but not wanting to stop her, Olivia went along with it. “Ah. Alright. I’ll see you later, then.” She gave a nod and then turned to depart.

Jennifer took several deep breaths, then closed her eyes and shouted, “It was really nice meeting you, Olivia! I-I hope w-we can be really, really close friends!” She slowly opened her eyes again, and blushed fiercely. And now I look like a total spaz.

Olivia glanced back, and merely responded, “I don’t hope we will be. I know we will be.” With that, she walked off.

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

ZombieSplitter53 & Dahlexpert53
Gifts Fit for a Warrior

Luke and Lilith make their way to the O'Brien room. Both seemed to be arguing about their presents for Brigid."

"Um Auntie, I don't think Morrgian would like you giving a thirteen year old a weapon."

"Oh come on, I'm sure Morrgian would be alright if I said it was for Brigid's protection."

"If you say so, just don't blame me when Morrigan yells your ear off."

Lilith knocked on Morrgian's door.

The Irish soldier opened the door, smiling at the two. "Hey. How are my favorite domesticated wild warriors?"

"Ha ha, very funny Morrigan. We actually came to give Brigid her birthday presents."

Lilith and Luke entered the room. Once in side, Luke pick up Brigid. "Hey little thing, how does it feel to be thirteen?"

Brigid avoided eye contact, obviously upset. "It's okay. I still... feel like a little kids." She pouted, and mumbled, "Or a baby..."

"Hey, what's wrong kiddo, you alright?" Luke asked putting Brigid down.

Lilith turned to Morrigan. "What's wrong with her?"

"She... had a rough encounter with someone named Artyom. Didn't get his last name or where he works. He upset her by calling her a baby, and when she insisted she wasn't, he said something about... how he violently had to murder his friends. Jack said that he went into gruesome detail." Morrigan sighed. "Brigid ran off after that. Took us three hours to find he and convince her to come out of her hiding place."

Luke looked at Morrgian. "Really now? I might have to hunt this guy down and force him to apologize."

"Luke, remember why we're here. That's rough Morrgian, but maybe we can help Brigid." Lilith sat next to Brigid. "After all, we have presents for you, and no, they're not for kids."

Brigid slowly smiled. "Really? But... Y-you don't have to get me presents. I mean... unless you really want to. Then it would be rude of me to not take them."

"Of course we do, so first is me." Lilith brought out what looked to be a small knife in it's seethe. "Here Brigid. In my tribe, a thirteenth birthday is very important. In my tribe, a thirteen year old starts training to become one of our warriors. Now, this is not a toy, and should not be used unless your life is being threaten."

"Whoa..." Brigid held it tightly in her hands, feeling the weight. "Cool."

"U-uh... Lilith?" Morrigan let out a nervous laugh. "Can I talk to you for... just a sec?"

"I told you this would happen." Luke muttered.

"Shut up boy." Lilith left the room with Morrigan."Yes Morrgian, did you want something."

"Are, uh... are you crazy?" Morrigan asked in a surprisingly relaxed tone. "You have my daughter a weapon for her birthday?"

"Yes, it's tradition in my tribe. Also..." Lilith rubbed her head. "If we get attacked again, and the aliens get past us, she can defend herself."

Morrigan groaned, rubbing her eyes. "I... I guess, but..." She let out another groan. "Her hands... aren't meant for weapons, you know? They are meant for a bow string. And if not that, then... something that isn't a weapon." She waved her hand back towards the door. "Besides, she doesn't know how to use a knife. What good is it to her?"

"Call it my motherly instinct," Lilith said. "It's for when she's older."

In the room, Luke said, "Alright, now it's my turn. Now Brigid, I need you to close your eyes, okay?"

Brigid nodded, closing her eyes and holding out hands, an excited smile on her face.

Brigid can feel something going around her neck." Alright, open your eyes." When Brigid opened her eyes, she saw dog tags around her neck.

"What are these?" Brigid asked curiously, reading the inscription on the tags.

"Those are called dog tags, it's something us soldier wear I hope you like them. This means you're part of the crew."

Brigid read over her name and smiled. "Whoa. Some am I, like... a soldier now that I got these tags and a knife?"

"No, you're not a soldier, this is just a birthday gift. Now, this is your real present." Luke puts a bracelet on her wrist, that had pictures of dog tags and dogs on it. "Alexis had to help me with this one. Hopefully you like it."

Brigid let out an excited laugh, holding it up and admiring it. "I love it! Though... I love the dog tags too." She pointed to the bracelet. "This is my gift from you as a friend." She then pointed to the tags. "And this is my gift from you as a teammate, right?"

Luke rubbed Brigid's head. "Yeah, that's exactly what it means. I hope you enjoy them."

Lilith, having reentered with Morrigan, looked at Luke." Wow, Luke, great gifts. I didn't think you had it in you."

"Yeah, not bad," Morrigan agreed.

"Pretty cool, huh mom?" Brigid held up the dog tags. "Maybe with these, the Commander will make me, like... morale officer or something." She frowned, and picked up the knife. "Can... can I keep Lilith's gift?"

"Yeah, that would be me." Lilith said "It wouldn't be the first time I teached someone how to use a blade, I taught Luke how to use one."

"Yeah, just teach her the basic," Luke said. "And don't go full solider on her like you did me."

"Full soldier?" Brigid gave Lilith a curious look. "Why not? What is teaching full soldier like?"

"Something a little girl should not be doing." Luke said. "Trust me Brigid, unless you want to vomit every day, and have my aunt hurting you..."

"Come on, Luke. I wasn't that hard on you," Lilith insisted, "I toughened you up."

Brigid laughed nervously. "I, um... I think the basic lessons sound perfect for me."

Morrigan grinned. "Good call, honey. The mark of an intelligent person is knowing your limits, right Lilith?"

"I wasn't going to do that to her. Besides, she's too cute. I would never think about."

"Yeah, of course you wouldn't." Luke went to Brigid and picked her up."Happy birthday Brigid. even if it is a few days late."

Brigid wrapped her arms around him. "Thanks. You guys are the best friends a girl could have."

"No problem kid." Lilith said.

"Aw, and here I thought I was more of a brotherly figure." Luke said.

Brigid grinned. "I like that... big brother Luke."

Luke hugged Brigid a little tighter. "Aw, I always wanted a little sister. This isn't so bad."

 

[DarkGemini24601]

“Daydreams and Nightmares, Part 1” – Yakone Ipiktok

North American Continent
Former United States of America
Specifically, the Lower American Precinct
Chicago Megacity, October 6th, 2038
1615 Hours, Local Time

Monotony was beginning to set in. Yakone’s muscles ached. Her eyes were heavy. She had no agency and little to entertain her mind. Because of these things, she gradually drifted into sleep.

Before her stood a black tower. It reflected no light. It was merely a black monolith blotting out the sun from where Yakone stood. As her gazed lingered on it, the structure began to twist and turn, contorting itself into a gnarled obsidian tree. Four large branches sprouted from the black oak, clawing at the air as if searching. They did this for some time, before finding what they were looking for. And then – without warning – the quartet barreled at Yakone.

The gnarled limbs stretched and shot towards her, wrapping around the young woman’s form and squeezing tightly – constricting her skin until it began to fold on itself. Offshoot twigs broke off the main structure of the four branches, waving around like the hungry tongues of serpents. Yakone briefly shut her eyes, trying to black out the fear and pain. When she reopened them, she was faced with the imposing figure of the Inquisitor. The ancient flesh on his hands coiled around Yakone stretched and softened as he sucked the life out of her.

Everything shattered.

Yakone found herself falling. The bottom was nowhere in sight; the plummet appeared endless. Or was it? Gripped by fear of finding out with a tremendous impact, Yakone pleaded for some control over her fate. To her surprise, a cold, constant wind from the side began to blow powerfully, keeping Yakone buoyant by moving her horizontally instead of vertically. Particles of ice – not all of it water – began to flow through the strange sky.

Where was she – was the question foremost in Yakone’s mind. The place she found herself had no solid ground, and was laden with water ice and frozen ammonia. The temperatures were glacial, the winds stronger than anything she could imagine occurring naturally on Earth. It was also darker than the planet she knew. What did Rob call it? An ice giant? Like Uranus and Neptune – wait, I should be an icicle by now, or asphyxiate…?! – a moment of brief panic ensued, but – I’ve been fine so far, this isn’t real, I’m dreaming and aware of it.

The realization struck Yakone like lightning. Well, this is better than being stuck in a confined jail cell. The Ranger spread her arms like wings, relaxing within winds in excess of a category five hurricane’s. Didn’t Bradford tell me that mother was able to locate Nouja via enhanced ESP whilst deep in REM sleep? I wonder – no, that’s right, I can’t externalize my psi while those stupid cuffs are on and matched to my psionic signature. But I hadn’t considered trying to activate them internally.

The lucid dreamer reached out, a goal now in mind. The frozen particles in the air began to swirl against the current – initially not enough to matter, but slowly resisting the wind enough to stay in place. They began to arrange themselves into a frame, and within that hollow rectangle a door took shape, complete with a handle. Yakone wrapped her hand around the doorknob, spun it by ninety degrees, and transported herself – somewhere else, somewhere familiar.

At first, there was only white, but then the carving knife inside Yakone’s mind began to sketch intently. The bright wooden floor of a basketball court was envisioned into existence first. Following it were the plaster walls of a Japanese-style dojo, which folded upwards from the nothingness surrounding them; XCOM banners flowed downwards along the sides of the room that had just finished lifting themselves into place. The roof sealed the chamber, and upon it lamps began to brightly burn as if stars, composing a constellation of Yakone’s own imagination – one that formed the shape of Earth.

Yakone made her way over to the right wall as the statues that adorned it began to shift from hazy silhouettes to perceptible objects. New sculptures had been added to the collection of human effigies. Her old friends were still there, but now a few others that she had met more recently were included. In silver were the members of Maverick Squad, Samuel, Ayame, and even a dual figurine containing Morrigan with her daughter at her side. Smiling wistfully, Yakone knelt beneath the expanded collection. “I’ve really made a lot of new friends, huh?” the Marauding Crusader mused.

Focusing on the squad of six – seven if you counted the woman resting in a blanket of marble clouds above them – Yakone apologized quietly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be a bigger help to you guys on that last operation,” she told the group of friends surrounding Olivia as Christine eternally watched over them. “Hope you’re doing alright without my help. Ayame better be keeping you company, Oli. Roommates have to stick together,” Yakone enjoined with a faint smile.

Next, her gaze shifted over to the pair of statues, one large and one small. “And I hope you aren’t worrying too much, shortcake. I’ll be fine. I just wish I’d been able to get that present I promised Morrigan together…” the Ranger sighed sadly. “Dunno if you hate late gifts, but I still feel like getting you something even if I have to wait weeks or months to carve you that figurine.” A little less dourly, Yakone thought to herself, “at least I’ll have the change to figure out what animal best represents you. Spirits guardians are not something you just decide on a whim. They have to befit the person.”

If only there were some way I could escape, and fulfill that promise sooner, Yakone silently bemoaned. Right now, unfortunately, that prospect is far too far out of reach. Scanning the rest of the statues, her eyes lingered on Leon. Letting out a deep, longing breath, Yakone swore, “I’ll find my way back to you, no matter how long it takes, no matter what they do to me, no matter how impossible it may seem. You’ve shown me… you’ve helped me realize that I need to love others equal to myself. Without you, I… I don’t know if I’d be able to justify my resolve.”

And continuing to look over her collection of friends, a family member stood out now. The cloth that had covered the statue of Atka was now cast aside, and Yakone’s mother was emblazoned in gold. This warmed the young woman’s heart, and brought her to proclaim, “I love you, mom. Keep doing what you’re doing – you’ll lead us to victory in no time at all,” she murmured. “I… I hope you know I’m alright, somehow.” The thought occurred to Yakone that her comrades might believe her dead, and it was like a knife driving itself through her heart, rendering it cold again. “Please, God, give them some sort of sign… don’t let them be cast into despair on my account.”

After making that prayer, Yakone merely sat in silence for awhile. The passage of time in the dreamscape while she was asleep was even more unclear than it was when she was conscious, and thus the Ranger did not even begin to attempt to keep track of the clock. Instead, she merely stood up after some unidentifiable period of seconds, minutes, or hours, and started to walk back towards the center of the room. The aquarium on the left had not changed, and nearby the crate of sports equipment was still in place – if currently gathering some fresh dust. Her science station was fine, complete with a still-nonfunctional TV.

Yakone did not approach that side, however. One of the statues behind her in particular kept demanding the Inuit-Caucasian’s attention: the grinning, overconfident, golden, garish, leering representation of herself – the depiction of just how highly Yakone viewed herself. A testament to her pride, a marker of egomania. “I have to face you,” Yakone began as she started to pivot to face the arrogant effigy, “sooner or latter. Now seems like a good time.”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

“Daydreams and Nightmares, Part 2” – Yakone Ipiktok

To her astonishment, the statue frowned. “You should embrace me, not ‘face’ me,” the carved stone spoke in a more gravelly version of Yakone’s voice. “What’s wrong with acknowledging how awesome you are! What’s wrong with having some dignity?”

Yakone tensed, initially unsure how to answer. This is going to be harder than I thought, isn't it? “Nothing’s wrong with that.”

“Then why-”

“-let me finish, dammit! Humiliating myself like we did in the hangar, pissing off Leon by avoiding him just to nurse… my indignation and shame and suffering and hide my fear and my doubt and my struggle… those things are counterintuitive. They wound my pride more than anything!”

Pride crossed her arms. “But you admit I’m important.”

“Yes!” Wait, no… I don’t know…”

The statue sighed deeply. “Why must you run around in circles like this? There’s nothing wrong with me. With us.”

Yakone wound her fists tightly together, frustration and confusion slowly shifted to confidence and certainty as she coalesced her thoughts. “No. There is something wrong with us. With me. Every time… every time I let my ego get the better of me, people get hurt!” She squeezed her eyes shut in shame. “I damage or destroy my friendships, and it ruins my happiness along with theirs. Humility isn’t the devil… I could use some, god dammit! Maybe I’d get along better with other people then, maybe I’d give them better reasons not to hate me, maybe I could apologize more than one in a fucking… blue… moon!”

Following her defiant, self-depreciating speech, Yakone cautiously peeked open one eye. She was surprised to find Pride stunned, aghast, paled white all over. “You… actually said all of that…” the flabbergasted personified personality trait uttered. The character flaw trembled in indignation, in shame. Humiliated, goaded, Pride reached behind her back, and drew a pair of swords. “No, no, NO! You’re a fucking liar! You’re a good-for-nothing, sick fucking liar! You don’t mean all of that! You’re just saying that to sound cool! Liar! LIAR!”

Yakone materialized a pair of blades herself, holding them up defensively. “You’re wrong… I meant what I said. I’m not going to take it back.”

“Prove it, then!” Pride screamed, lunging at Yakone. She swung both of her weapons together in a vicious downstroke.

Yakone narrowly blocked them with her two blades horizontal above her head, and with a thrust of her arms pushed her alter ego back. That only gave her a very brief respite, as Pride came back on the offensive almost immediately after, slashing one blade in a trio of strikes, followed by a duo of stabs from her second sword. Yakone managed to parry the first three attacks with a few quick motions of her right arm, and narrowly dodged the last two lunges with quick footwork.

“I’m as fast as you! I’m the best! We’re the best! Why don’t you acknowledge that!” Pride hysterically cried out in fury, next attacking Yakone with a repeated series of hacks – enhanced in strength by flashes of blue psionic energy manifested as physical enhancement.

Yakone had to match that display of strength with some of her own. “My mind is my own!” she yelled in return. “You’re just a part of me, and I can control you!”

The intense emerald green of Overdrive surrounded the quite-wrathful Pride, and she allowed herself to be struck by a counterattack from Yakone whilst throwing herself into the fray. “No… you…” she started, slashing her blades in an ‘x’ to try and lop off Yakone’s head. “Can’t!”

Yakone lifted up both of her hands, promptly letting go of her swords in order to capture Pride’s. Her palms were protected by the beginnings of her own Overdrive, which soon spread all over her body as her inner foe’s weapons ground against her reinforced flesh. “Wrong! I can! I can be a better person!” With a bestial growl, Yakone ripped the swords out of Pride’s hands by the blades, and quickly spun the handles into their proper place – aiming the tips towards Pride’s neck.

“You… you can’t kill me!” Pride fearfully declared. “I’m a part of you!”

“Yeah, you are.” Yakone dropped the swords to Pride’s relief and confusion. Suddenly rushing forward, Yakone decried, “but I can control you!” She struck her flaw in the forehead, bashing Pride back towards the wall she had come from. Her face frozen in shock and denial, Pride became inanimate once more – the psionic energies she had flowing into Yakone. The statue would remain there with a blown-away expression, serving as a reminder of the Marauding Crusader’s refusal to be controlled by her ego.

Yakone let out a deep, pent-up sigh. “Alright, that… wasn’t actually that bad. I feel pretty good about myself.” She glanced around the room, calming herself down from the emotional struggle she had just endured. “Hope I can return here next time I fall asleep… good way to avert my boredom and make my time stuck in the prison outside my head count. A chill went down Yakone’s neck, as she felt someone was standing behind her. She was not sure who though, and had to slowly turn to find out. Standing across from Yakone was the previous owner of her cape, clad in exercise clothing with a basketball in hand. “What are you…?”

Margaret smiled. “We’ve got some time before you awaken. Up for some 1v1?”

Yakone grinned, rolling her shoulder. “Always… you know, if the memories of yours I have aren’t wrong… you were pretty good in your basketball team in high school, weren’t you?”

The Advent Sergeant nodded. “I was, yeah.”

“I’d be humbled to practice with you, then,” Yakone responded, lowering herself into a triple threat position.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and Dahlexpert: “Battle Brothers”

Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean
1235 Hours, October 6th, 2038
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 4, Central Block
The Mess Hall

Tomislav slid the fork in his hand around slightly before poking at the magenta-colored ring accompanying the rest of his meal. “What the hell even is this…?” he wondered in regard to the candied onion, continually both amazed and put off by what the Avenger’s chief chef produced. Idly glancing up while he pondered whether or not he should sample the strange delicacy, his gaze settled on a familiar face. “So he is here… what do you know?” The Harrier pushed himself up from the table, and waved over to the man he had sighted. “Hey, Emile! Long time no see!”

“Oh my God, there is no way in hell he’s here. It can't be; there’s no way.” Emile turned around to see Tomislav. “What the hell, Tom? What the hell are you doing here?” Emile rushed to his friends and hugged him.” What’s up man, how did you get here?”

“Well, the how has to come with the why,” the Serbian man replied with a chuckle. “I changed my mind. Things got quiet as hell in my corner of the world, and I realized I needed to be applying my skills somewhere more relevant. I reached out to XCOM, and it took awhile, but they responded. So here I am, soldier and inventor fighting in the strongest cell the Resistance has to offer.” He smirked. “A lot less stuck up than SIN to boot.”

“Oh yeah. Also, the food here is great, and the Co... she’s alright. But I have to tell you man the soldiers here are monsters, they are like nothing you have ever seen before.”

“Well, I’ve never had the luxury of fighting alongside psions before… they’ve always been on the side trying to kill us in the past,” Tomislav remarked with a shake of his head. “Damn shame that we’re down one of the best we had though.”

“Yeah… heh, you know, the last thing I said to her was that she was an arrogant woman that will get herself killed. Turns out I was right, though I wish I was wrong for this one.” Emile shook his head. “Anyway, Tom, I have to say: the people here are way tougher than they are back in Serbia, Hell, ADVENT found our base a few weeks ago. Not only did we fought them off but we won, and they sent most of their army after us.”

“I sense a bit of hyperbole… if they’d send everything you’d be dead. But holding out against an all-out attack? That’s pretty impressive,” Tomislav responded with a nod. “I heard bits and pieces about it, but I didn’t ask for details… sounded like it was a sore subject for those that lost their friends in the defense of the ship.”

“We lost six people in that fight; I still find the mission to be a success. You have to understand some of the people on this ship have not been in fights like this, for us this is just another day losing people - but to them it’s their first time losing people.Then there are those that have been fighting ADVENT since before we were born.”

“Blows my mind a little to think about it,” Tomislav noted with a shake of his head. “The Commander’s been doing this for over twenty years… christ, that would wear me down. Especially after her daughter getting captured… here’s hoping she can keep it together.”

“The Commander is a tough woman. There is another person a little older then the Commander and she’s been fighting about as long. Her name is Lilith; she’s one of the soldiers, a former ADVENT soldier too so there’s that. And before you say anything, Lilith is on our side she’s not an ADVENT spy.”

Tomislav didn’t seem entirely convinced. “How long has she been with XCOM?”

“Since the first attack, during Unification Day. So the beginning. Trust me, I as skeptical as everyone else. But she proved herself time and time again... she’s on our side, don’t worry. Also the commander said no witch hunts.”

“Alright, unless she’s playing some retarded long game she’s probably safe. You can never be too sure though… being too trusting is an easy way to get yourself shot in the back.” Tomislav shrugged. “If you vouch for her then I’m fine, though.”

“Trust me she’s good, and she has no problem kicking your ass to prove it. Also speaking of the women here they are very interesting, just don’t mess with this purple haired chick named Alexis.”

“I won’t mess around with her, though you’ve got me curious about this lady… what’s she like?” Tom questioned with an eyebrow raised.

“She’s hot if I’m being honest... she’s a wild one - and by that I mean she’s a party girl. Very out there, but she’s psionic and a capable soldier. She’s also taken.”

Tomislav held up his hands. “Hey, I wasn’t about to go after her… the thought would have crossed my mind, but…” The Harrier placed a thumb on his chest. “You friend here managed to land himself a girlfriend within half a week of arriving on this ship. I have my ways.”

“How the fuck did that happen...Wait who is she?”

“Ayame Kasagi. Cute, petite, and feisty Asian soldier,” Tomislav stated. “A pretty good catch if I don’t say so myself.”

Emile started to laugh hysterically, “Dude remember when I said the only girl you will ever get is a dead one or one. Well guess what your dating is an ultra granny, she’s more than centuries old. And she’s a vampire, have fun with that.”

“I am aware of these things. Doesn’t matter how old she is when she looks as youthful as she does,” Tomislav retorted. “Besides, wasn’t there a huge surplus of romance novels surrounding bloodsuckers before the war? I’d argue that’s just a bonus to be assigned to the ‘exotic’ category.”

“Jesus you're just as weird as I remember,but at least you're getting something. So good for you, you always were one for attention and always craved it.”

Oh, if only you knew the truth of it. Tomislav shook his head, replying humbly, “hey, it gets things done. People enjoy the lovable fool… it makes them feel better about themselves, and it lightens the mood. I have a feeling I’ll have my work cut out for me in the coming weeks.”

“Well trust me when it comes to loveable fools someone has you beat, well two people. One is the cook that seem to run on sugar and rainbows and the other one is Luke. He is the son of the Lilith, and is Alexis’ boyfriend.”

“I’m not so familiar with the latter, but man, the former…” Tomislav leaned a bit closer to Emile, whispering, “is she even human? She’s never not smiling… it’s fucking creepy is what it is.”

“You learn to get used to it, now as for Luke. You don’t want to mess with this guy, this guy is probably other than the Commander is the most dangerous person here.”

“Really now?” Tom questioned, expecting Emile to elaborate on why.

“Yea, when it comes to psionic power he’s right under the Commander. He’s a red psion. I think he has the most kills on the ship, and he’s the only one on this ship to fight a Chryssalid and two Mutons by himself. So yeah, dangerous dude.”

“Eh, give me some of the alien’s power armor and I could show him a thing or two…” Tom mumbled. “I’ll tell you what, though… despite my skills with coming up with weaponry, psionics do pose somewhat of an advantage I can’t quite surmont… yet, anyway. I’d love to get my hands on one of those A.I.s like the one Leon has, but his holographic buddy said there aren’t any left over.”

“I’m sure we’ll find more, but for now where are you bunked? That is what I’m most concerned with, I don’t want to hear you and Ayame going at it.”

Tom snickered. “Don’t worry about that, I have a room to myself on the end of a hallway. Needed a space for my personal workshop.” Can’t have people observing me playing with fire, after all.

“Well thank god for that, also man if you're hiding anything you might want to tell the commander. Because everything that’s hidden on this ship doesn't stay hidden for long.”

“No, officer, there is no marijuana in my bedroom,” Tom wisecracked. “I’ve got nothing secretive in there. Just don’t want my work to be interrupted is all.”

“Well that’s good then anyway man it’s good to see you again, but I have some training to do. It’s going to be great seeing to you again.”

Tomislav bumped his fist against Emile. “Likewise. Ours will be a glorious partnership. See you around.”

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

ZombieSplitter53 and DarkGemini24601: “Warmth, Part 1”

Kyushu, one of the islands of Japan
1044 Hours, October 7th, 2038
Onboard the Avenger
Level 2, Front Block
The Computer Room

“Come on, dad,” Alexis whined, sitting upside down on the couch in her father’s office. “I thought you told Lily you’d relax more.”

Joe looked back at his daughter. He had a ways to go, but he was looking a bit better, some decent rest doing him some good. “That doesn’t mean I won’t be doing any work, Alex. I’m still on my shift for another twenty minutes.”

Alex only scoffed. “You’re the boss here, you make the rules. Just say the boss can leave twenty minutes early. I’m hungry…”

Jenn smiled softly. “He has to set a good example for the others. Besides, you could stand to wait a few minutes for your lunch.”

Alexis gave her a dirty look. “You callin’ me fat?”

“Now, now, no fighting.” Joe turned back to his computer. Just let me search these last few channels for information, and we can go eat.”

There was a knock on the door, and then Ursula meekly peeked her head through. “U-Um… Mr. Chambers, I’ve got someone on a secure channel from the Thai cell we just armed that wants to speak with someone higher-up… I-I’m not certain they are who they say they are, though…”

Joe nodded, and said, “can you transfer it into my office? And keep the line secured in case it is an attempt for ADVENT to pinpoint us. We don’t want to fall into an obvious trap.”

“Understood.” Urusla disappeared again, and after a few seconds the call was patched into Joseph’s computer - complete with video.

A familiar woman with features that had changed looked over Joseph curiously. Her hair had shifted from brown to gray, and her eyes were now a mysterious-looking violet, but aside from about a decade of aging she looked otherwise the same. After a brief pause, the woman remarked, “Chambers! I almost didn’t recognize you for a moment…” she smiled wryly. “It’s good to see you again after all this time.”

“I-I… you…” Joe was flabbergasted at first, completely caught off guard as he studied her face, trying to come to grips with what he was seeing. “Is that… really you, Dr. Vahlen?”

“It is indeed…” Valda leaned forwards slightly, scrutinizing the two women behind him. “Are those two behind you… your daughters, by any chance?”

“That’s them.” Joe turned to them, a hopeful smile they hadn’t seen in quite some time on his face. “Girls… it’s Dr. Vahlen!”

“Whoa…” Alexis leaned over her father’s shoulder. “Is that really you, Dr. V? I can hardly recognize you.”

“To be fair, you were only three at the time when we last met,” Jennifer stated, taking a position over Joseph’s other shoulder.

“And time hasn’t been the kindest to me,” Vahlen remarked. “If you’re wondering about the eyes… it’s a long story. I’d like to tell it to you all personally, if you’d be so kind as to send that dropship of yours for me and my associate.” Valda glanced to the side, offscreen. “I’ve got some good news for you, my friend… please, though, don’t give yourself a heart attack when you come over here, alright?” Valda glanced back at the screen. “That goes for you three too.”

“I… I don’t know if… I can…” a soft voice said of screen. “What if… what if they…”

“You’re not going to put months of combined effort to waste,” Vahlen replied with a shake of her head. “Come over here, Veronica.”

Joe gasped. “V-Vicky? Is… is that really you?”

Veronica took a little bit longer, but she finally came over and sat next to her friend. “H-hey… there,” she said shyly, twiddling her fingers.

Her husband blinked several times, and had to wipe some tears away to keep his vision clear. “You… it is like something out of a dream. You’re just as I remember you. You barely even look like you aged.”

“Y-yeah… well, there is an explanation… for…” Her eyes widened as they locked onto one of the girls standing next to him. She had no doubt as to who they were, the girls taking their looks from her enough for there to be no mistake. “Is that… really you? Alexis… Jennifer…”

Jenn couldn’t respond at first. If her father was surprised, Jennifer was completely blown away the tears coming non-stop. Alexis tried to look defiant. Years of knowing, absolutely knowing her mother was gone followed by months of denial quickly came crashing down, and the tears came from her eyes as well. “M… mommy…”

Veronica slowly nodded. “Oh… what I wouldn’t give to hold you all right now.”

“That could be arranged! As soon as possible!” Joe grabbed a pen and paper. “Doctor, please, where are you. We’ll send someone to get you right away. We’ll bring this whole ship there if need be.”

“I’ll send you my coordinates… and while we wait for your pickup craft, we can exchange stories from the past two decades,” Vahlen responded with a nod. “Veronica and I have a long one for you…”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and ZombieSplitter53: “Triple V, Part 1”

X-COM Headquarters
June 14th, 2018
2310 Hours

During the fall of the X-COM base.

The lights flickered on the ceiling. Their bulbs were cracked or outright shattered by gunfire. The air smelled of smoke and death. Both came from a one-sided massacre. The screams of the dying or soon-to-be echoed through the metal walls of the base. They fell on callous ears. The equipment that held the potential to save the world lay in pieces. The X-COM project had failed.

During all of this pandemonium, the chief scientist of X-COM felt as if a hand were closing around her neck. Sweat ran down her skin as she dashed down a side hall that lead to what she knew in the back of her mind was a dead end. I'll be dead soon if I don't do something! the panicked German knew. But what could she do? Some of her colleagues had tried to defend themselves with laser weapons. They had been gunned down with the polar opposite of mercy.

For a moment, she considered abandoning the woman with her. Veronica looked like she was about to have a total mental breakdown at any moment. At least one of us should have a chance at surviving, Vahlen thought. But even the calculating scientist wasn't without compassion. At the end of the line was a rock wall and a supply closet. Valda opened the door to the latter. "We have to hide," she told Veronica. It's our only chance, she didn't add audibly.

Veronica blinked a few times, her face stained with tears, sweat, and dirt, her normally well kept hair a mess. She looked at the closet, and slowly nodded. "Y-yes... o-o-okay..." She climbed inside, almost looking like a machine as she moved.

Once inside, Vahlen shut the door, and the two waited. The minutes ticked by, only slivers of light through thin, downwards-facing grates allowing them to see anything. The sounds of footsteps -heavy ones - discontinued the silence. Veronica whimpered ever so slightly, like a child afraid of the dark or a lost puppy, her eyes widening in fear. Vahlen for her part held her breath. Hoping. And then, the door swung open, and three plasma rifles in the hands of hulking Mutons were staring them in the face.

Veronica cried out, holding Vahlen tightly and sobbing softly. She seemed to put herself between her boss and the aliens, but whether this was intentional or not was unclear at the moment. So this is how it ends. Valda closed her eyes, not wanting to see the end coming. She had plenty of regrets. At least letting An-Yi know who her mother is won't be one of them. The thought was little comfort, as Lily was likely dead by now.

Nothing happened. Slowly due to disbelief, Vahlen cracked open an eye. The aliens were not firing, just making sure the two weren't going to try to run. Why...?

Veronica looked at them in surprise too. She didn't want to die, but she almost looked disappointed, likely out of fear of going on without her family. "W-w-what... do you... w-w-want?"

The alien shocktroopers did not respond. While one kept its rifle raised, the other two seized Valda and Veronica. They tossed the two onto the ground, and then lifted their guns at the pair again.

A few moments later, a voice that carried with it a charismatic confidence echoed in the heads of all five. Please, be gentle with them, the telepath instructed the three Balmadaar. You never know who might have the Gift.

A tall alien in bronze-colored robes floated over, apparently being the mental speaker. He wore a mask over his face that was a violet-black color, but had golden alien hieroglyphics written down its smooth curvature like the script on an ancient scroll. What are your names, humans? he addressed the pair of scientists with a pleasant tone.

Veronica seemed to sulk down in fright at the being. A woman of confidence, of strength, of joy, she was reduced to the level of a scared child in the face of her dead colleagues and believed to be lost family. "V-Veroncia," she answered nervously.

"Valda Vahlen," the chief scientist said for her part, fearful but more resigned to her fate than anything.

I am Chronicler Vekinte'Ecformin'Cettnint, the Ethereal introduced himself. He paused for a split second. You will not die this day, he informed them, adding, and if your families still live they will be spared.

Veronica's eyes widened, and she inched forward ever some much. "I-I have two children... a-and a boyfriend, their father. Please, w-we aren't soldiers. N-neither is Dr. Vahlen. Please, just... my... m-my children..."

I will do what I can. But, unfortunately, there are not many left alive in this place. It stands as a barricade to the Path, and must be destroyed. The masked extraterrestrial gave a psychic order to the Mutons, and they grabbed the two again - albeit less roughly. As they were taken away, the Chronicler found himself gazing around at the corridor. I certainly hope Zemesis hasn't killed those two psions... Atka and Desmond, were they? he thought 'aloud'. The remaining Muton merely shrugged. I suppose I’ll have to see for myself.

***​

Protectorate Battleship “Ducitavia”
June 15th, 2018
0902 Hours

Vicky slowly opened her eyes, then immediately closed them again with a pained look on her face, the light coming from the ceiling like a punch in the brain. “Oh… my head…” she muttered, and slowly open her eyes again, giving the light a bit to sink in. “Where am I?” she said out loud. “I was… getting on the ship… struggling. Something must have konked me… V-Vahlen?”

“N-not so loud,” the scientist mumbled, still coming to. As Valda adjusted her eyes, she discerned that the room was remarkably featureless. It was merely a six-sided cube, with no discernable door and a single light on the ceiling. The only thing that gave her a clue as to their location was that she felt a little lighter, but the doctor was unsure if that was simply an aftereffect of how she and her companion had been put to rest. “I don’t know where we are either.”

“They sure could use some color and a throw pillow in here…” Veronica lifted her hands. “At least we’re not bound and strapped to some weird machine.” After a few deep breaths, she stood up, the motion oddly easy. “What kind of room is this?” She placed her hand on one of the walls and slowly traced it, looking for some kind of exit.

None made itself apparently, and the minutes seemed to lengthen as they ticked by without any way to truly keep track of time. Escape didn’t seem to be on Vahlen’s mind at the moment. Valda had moved into a sitting position, and was quietly thinking to herself. That being that the Mutons obeyed mentioned the Gift. Her mind drifted to the data retrieved from the base in India, and the definition of that term. They were seeking to keep any psions they found in our base alive. I don’t know why - maybe they want to bolster their forces - but they’ll probably be trying to figure out if any survivors have the potential for psychic abilities. I can’t imagine they’d have good reason to keep us alive either. Valda sighed quietly. Strange that I should hope that I have such odd abilities… for if I do not - she glanced at Veronica - or she does not, I am not certain we will be alive much longer.

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

DarkGemini24601 and ZombieSplitter53: “Triple V, Part 2”

As Vahlen suspected, it was not long before one of the walls abruptly slid to the side, causing Veronica to stumble forward. She was stopped by the long, lanky hand of one of the Thin Men, who pushed her back a few inches and tapped a plasma pistol at his side to prove a point. “Come with me,” he spoke coldly. “And please, don’t try and resist. It won’t end well for you.”

Veronica folded her arms. “Where are you taking us? Where are we?”

The alien lowered its sunglasses slightly, staring at Veronica with a piercing reptilian gaze. “You are in no position to ask questions. Come with me, or I’ll get one of the Balmadaar and make you come with me.”

Veronica’s shoulders slumped. “Great… creepy lizard man with a gun or a brute with a chip on his shoulder.” She sighed and stepped forward. “Creepy lizard man it is, I guess.”

The Thin Man beckoned Vahlen to follow as well, and lead the two down a dark hallway. Gradually, blue-white light began to stream in, until they were walking over a bridge across a chasm filled with green capsules - much like the alien base on Earth, only on a larger scale. The alien was unfazed by it all, and Vahlen remained stoic. Reaching the other side, they turned a corner and then entered a chamber with three human-sized tubes - each having purple-tinted glass. A few small gray Sectoids milled about, becoming more rigid in posture when the Thin Man arrived. He exchanged a conversation with the psionic aliens that the two humans could not hear, and then instructed the pair, “step into the capsules.”

Veronica let out a grim laugh. “You must be joking. Your choice for us is death by space gun or death by horrible alien experimentation in a claustrophobic jar?”

The tall alien pressed the barrel of his plasma pistol into the back of Veronica’s head. “The latter option provides the possibility of survival. The former is certain annihilation. You may choose in the next five seconds.”

“Veronica, please, don’t be a fool!” Valda cried out. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“O-okay! Okay… you win…” Veronica swallowed hard and stepped into the tube. “This sucks.”

It quickly shut around her, and began to glow softly. The Sectoids chattered to one another, and then stepped over to a series of computer panels. The one in the center activated a large touch-screen, which displayed an elaborate rendition of a color wheel on it, each segment having a word in the strange alien writing drawn onto it. Beginning trial. Testing primaries… first, Wisdom. A searing agony invaded Veronica’s head, feeling as if a million needles were being embedded into her skull slowly. Negligible. Moving to Control. The pain this time was slightly more bearable, though it caused her limbs to ache horribly. Possibly… next, Power. The third trial caused Veronica’s heart to feel as if it was going to break out of her chest. Possible as well… mixing the two. Everything momentarily went white for her as if she’d been shot, and then slowly faded into black and back into the normal visual range.

She closed her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks. She had nothing witty to say, no comments to make. Just a sudden, if brief, wish for death to take her, and the terror at the thought that this might be a regular thing. Then, as abruptly as the torture had begun, it ended, and the pod opened. “A weak violet psion, eh?” the Thin Man muttered, speaking to the Sectoid that had administered the trial by fire. “That ability, huh?” He nodded, smiling widely. “It appears you have something in common with thePriorbus here, human… you have the capability of linking your mind to another.”

Veronica struggled to catch her breath after the intense experience. “I… have those… psychic powers?”

“You do. And if you wish to live, you will hone them as your new superiors see fit.” The Thin Man glanced at Vahlen. “Your turn.”

Valda closed her eyes briefly, taking in a shuddering breath. “If I do not share such potential, what will happen to me?” As she opened them, the murderous grin on the alien’s face told her everything she needed to know. “If this is the end, it has been an honor working with you, Veronica,” she told the younger woman.

“Please, no…” Veronica clasped her hands together. She wasn’t an overly religious woman, but she prayed now. She realized how ironic it was to hope that her friend had something that would lead to her being used, but in this moment, she figured it had to be better than death.

Vahlen stepped into the pod, the door sliding closed behind her. Her face quickly contorted in torment as the testing begun - though for her, it was more quickly over. Thrust back out of the capsule, the Thin Man echoed, “Really, now? That’s an unusual power to begin with…”

“W-What are you talking about?” Vahlen questioned, holding her head as the pain susbsided.

“You can control minds,” the reptilian alien responded. “Why don’t we put that to the test?” He looked over at Veronica. “Seize control of her.”

“You’re pretty sick, you know that, right?” Veronica gave him a murderous glare, then Vahlen a more sympathetic one. “It’s okay, VV. Do what you have to.”


The scientist briefly closed her eyes again, and then slowly reopened them, a violet hue now surrounding the irises. “So be it.” She reached forward, now able to feel her native power as an instinct - one she could wield and shape into a spiral of violet that tumbled from her raised fingers to Veronica’s head. It was a struggle at first, but soon Veronica fell limp like a marionette on the end of its strings.

“Well done, bravo,” the Thin Man applauded Vahlen. “I can see the research project forming already… we can see just how a stronger psion can further improve by learning to manipulate those weaker than her… this shall be interesting indeed.”

And so, time went by in that manner. The pair of women were subjected to test after test. Vahlen was forced to hone her domination ability by seizing control of her friend and other humans provided as guinea pigs. At times, Veronica was made to assist Vahlen with her mind-merge to perform a larger-scale suggestion onto other test subjects. The two were unable to properly keep track of time, but for long stretches of months they were kept in stasis rather than in a proper cell. They only knew that large spans of time were spent in cryosleep from offhand comments by their jailors. The Thin Man they’d first met disappeared after a while, as did the Sectoids - replaced by genetically-modified variants that reached human heights. For the most part, however, the Muton troops assigned to guard the ship spent most of their time there, and were not augmented over the years that passed. They were the most familiar faces that Vahlen and Lockheart saw. The Priorbus remained in the shadows, while it was the Balmadaar that fed the pair when necessary and precluded their escape.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and ZombieSplitter53: “Triple V, Part 3”

Protectorate Battleship “Ducitavia”
November 3rd, 2028
0534 Hours

Veronica sat curled up in the corner of the all too familiar holding cell. Part of her carefree, happy spirit remained, but it was buried. Buried by the burden of what was now her life. The time in stasis might have meant the time passed by quicker, as she was unaware of a majority of it. But that meant little to no time away from the cycle of experimentation. It instead meant this torture was continuous, and she was tired of it. Tired of experiments. Tired of being lorded over. Tired of the mind control. Tired of the mind controller…

She blinked several times, a few dark thoughts sneaking into her mind that she wasn’t comfortable with. Her gaze turned to her partner. Her associate. Her… friend? “H-hey… how are you… holding up?”

Valda returned Veronica’s gaze with a tired look. Her blue eyes had long since shifted to a deep, forbidding violet that reflected the callousness that had grown in her over the year the two had been awake - over the decade that had passed overall. Vahlen had offered little conversation, and virtually no resistance to the alien’s demands. It was hard to tell if she even felt remorse anymore. In the few times Veronica had connected to her mind, she was faced with little more than surface thoughts and hopelessness and despondency deeper down. As a mild surprise, Valda did respond to the question this time, though it was hardly a useful answer. “As well as could be expected.” She continued to tap her fingers from the leftmost to the rightmost, a strange habit she had taken up while in the cell - seemingly to pass the time.

“Y-yeah… I guess that’s… obvious…” Veronica’s eyes darted about as she searched for something to say. Finally, she gave the smallest of smiles, and asked, “You know what I could really go for right now? A slice of greasy, seasoned covered Sicilian pizza. Like the corner place near my old home used to sell.”

Vahlen continued her tapping, though she slowly nodded. “That would be of a higher caliber than the food we get here.” The scientist exhaled slowly, and then requested something odd, ceasing the motion of her digits. Veronica, please merge your mind with mine.

Veronica tilted her head slightly, but nodded. I feel I should be unhappy with how easily I can do this now. As the former liason connected her mind to Vahlen’s, she was met with the familiar emptiness that seemed to wholly characterized the mental landscape of her friend. However, after a few moments, Veornica felt as if she were slipping through a liquid surface, and she felt emotions she hadn’t registered before. Grief. Regret. Guilt.

I am… so sorry from keeping my plotting from you, but I feared that your mind would not be able to conceal secrets like I have trained mine to, Vahlen psychically whispered. I have a way to possibly extricate us from this place, but it will require your assistance. Without the power boost you can provide me, I won’t be able to pull it off. Please, forgive me. I need your help.

Vahlen could feel a negative wave from Veronica, likely something she couldn’t hide and probably didn’t even realize she showed, especially since she tried not to bring attention to the obvious sense of betrayal. Of course. I’m… not as strong as you. But I would be happy to help. Just tell me what to do.

Lend me as much strength as you can. I have been counting down… the last piece of the puzzle will arrive soon, and from there I will make a gamble that will either provide our means of escape, or ensure death or a fate worse than it. Not long after Vahlen had conveyed this, the door slid open, and a Muton placed down a plate of nutrient-synthesized food. Valda stood up, and faced the Balmadaar to its confusion. Taking a deep breath and harnessing the energies within her own mind and Veronica’s, the former chief scientist of XCOM reached her mind out to the Muton, and to nine others of its kind on the ship. Tumultus, she conveyed as a keyword.

The alien warrior in front of her gained a violet glow to its eyes, and with a nod began marching off down the hallway. Valda held her forehead, clearly exhausted by the mass suggestion she had just activated - an imprint she had meticulously and furtively planted over the past ten years. “Down the other way that Muton is going… and… right, then left… there are escape pods. We can… use one to make landfall,” Vahlen told Veronica. She struggled to continue standing. I… leave the choice to you if you wish to assist me into one with you… or if you don’t want to waste time, and wish to leave me behind. I wouldn’t blame you if you picked the latter, she finished telepathically.

Veronica nodded, and looked to the door. She considered her options. Considered if she would be able to make it with a weakened Vahlen in tow. Naturally, it was better if at least one of them made it. Wait… what…Veronica audibly gasped. What is wrong with me. H-how… how could I even consider… She had wasted enough time on pointless consideration when the choice should have been obvious, and she cursed the aliens (and herself) for making it anything but. She reached over and wrapped her friend’s arm around her shoulder. “Of course we’re both getting out of here. Both of us, or neither of us, you understand?”

“Very well.” Vahlen smiled weakly, and walked with her to one of the pods. The other occupants of the ship were too busy with the Balmadaar uprising to stop them, and with a quiet ‘thunk’, an escape capsule broke off the battleship, and plummeted from high orbit down to the surface of the planet - landing in a pile of fresh snow in Europe. By the time the aliens on the Ducitavia realized the two test subjects were missing, they had already wandered off into the interior of Germany.

Vahlen had picked the location for a reason. It was in her homeland that a private backup server contained fragments of her research data - as well as that of engineering. She was able to retrieve the files, and use them to provide herself and Veronica with something worth bartering to survive outside of the reach of the aliens. Traveling between shantytowns, the two learned of ADVENT, and learned to avoid them at all costs. Valda ultimately traded scientific knowledge and engineering know-how to gain a means of transportation for the two - a mobile home of sorts - as well as equipment and resources necessary to survive as they distanced themselves from their initial landing site.

It was in Switzerland, a year after their escape, that the pair met a young boy bleeding out in the snow from an open wound where his right arm had been. Saving his life, Vahlen elected to refit the arm of a fallen MEC Trooper to replace the limb, and together she and Veronica helped raise him until he was old enough to survive on his own. That process took about six years, and after that, the two went back to wandering - doing whatever they could to assist the people outside of ADVENT’s reach, and aid the Resistance - though Vahlen, at least, did not think they had a chance of stopping the aliens at this point.

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

DarkGemini24601 and ZombieSplitter53: “Triple V, Part 4”

Turkish Plains
June 15th, 2038
1234 Hours

The summer heat surrounded the bus-like vehicle that Valda Vahlen and Veronica Lockheart had lived in for the past nine and a half years. The pair, as per usual, were out in the middle of nowhere to keep themselves away from the ever-prying eyes of the Protectorate forces. For a long time, the former had been wary of doing anything that would possibly indicate they were still alive, but over the years she had relaxed at least a little. Enough to permit her friend the use of a radio, although there was seldom anything good on. Currently, there was the drone of announcers speaking of the wonders of Unification Day coming from the antennaed box.

Vicky rolled one of her precious few lollipops around in her mouth, looking rather annoyed. “You know… the music selection is drole on a good day. I hate all this political garbage.” She considered turning it off, but decided it would at least work for background noise. She leaned forward at her small workstation, fiddling with some small electronic gizmo she had found discarded, and piece of alien tech that she was trying to get to work, if only to find out what it did. She wore her usual casual clothes, undies with an oversized dress shirt, her hair in paired pigtails. “Hey, VV? What did you want for dinner today? For that matter, what do we have to make?”

Valda looked up from her area - which consisted of a small fortress of CPUs, all currently being cooled by an array of mobile fans to keep them from overheating and losing the precious scientific data that she had spent years amassing - if only to give herself a purpose in order to avoid sinking into despair oncemore. Despite now being in her early fifties by appearance, the doctor had managed to preserve some of the beauty of her youth - though her hair was now a gray color, as opposed to its prior silvan brown. “Not much, I’m afraid… we’ll have to make do with mostly flour and-”

The scientist paused, as the person speaking on the radio was abruptly cut out. For a moment, the two wondered if it was simply a loss of signal, but a second later another woman spoke through the channel. “People of Earth - yes, Earth - I come to you today bearing the truth hidden by the lies of the Coalition. They claim to offer you peace and prosperity, to be ‘uplifting’ humanity for the betterment of mankind. We know better.”

Vahlen frowned. “Who the hell managed to hack into their broadcast?” she remarked in surprise.

“You may have heard rumors of disappearances, or have known them personally…” the defiant woman continued.

“And that voice… I swear I’ve heard it before, somewhere,” Valda murmured.

“Y-yeah…” Veronica put her work aside and reached over, turning the radio up. “It nags at the back of my mind. Like a… a ghost of the past.”

I know from personal experience that not only are there people being abducted, but they’re experimented on as surely as they were twenty years ago during the invasion that your ‘benevolent’ rulers so eloquently call ‘the Liberation’,” the announcer declared bitingly. “There is a liberation coming, and we are the ones that will bring it!”

Vicky closed her eyes, trying to fight through the haze and search the recesses of her memories. “I don’t… the way she yells… the tone… the conviction… it… sounds like one of the people I knew from XCOM. Atka… I think. But… can it be?”

Valda leaned forward herself, listening intently through the remainder of the speech. “It could be… I just… I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” Finally, ADVENT seemed to regain control of the network for a moment.

“We apologize for this situation… do not listen to this propaganda by terrorists trying to sow fear and discord! The criminal group they are claiming to belong to is dead-”

But the Resistance announcer would have the final word. She came on one last time to declared simply, eloquently, “XCOM lives!”

Veronica gasped. “Could… could it be?” Her eyes lit up, a huge smile growing on her face. “It… it was Atka! I’m sure of it! And… and if she’s alive, the others could be alive too! Our friends! Our… our family…”

Valda’s eyes wavered, but she did not allow herself to cry. She had to know for sure. It’s a risk, but if there was ever a time to check… The scientist patched herself into one of the TV networks via her computer, and sifted through the news stations as they were in full damage control mode. There were images of soldiers fighting, though they were too indistinct to recognize. One soundbite in particular from the group that attacked the statue in Caldera allowed her to smile. “Veronica… from what I can make out, I heard a familiar name amongst the attackers… one of them was named Alexis.”

For her part, Veronica didn’t bother trying to hold back her tears. “Could… my baby. Is she really alive?” She wiped her eyes, and gave a determined look. “It is too good to be true. To think, after two decades… I had always dreamed of this… but deep down, I believed they were all gone.”

“I was sure of it. Now… I don’t know what to think.” Vahlen sighed. “The reality is, we have no direct means to find them… but they’re out there, somewhere. In time, we may be able to get into contact… but even knowing some of them are out there, taking the fight to ADVENT…” Vahlen chuckled dryly. “For the first time in years, I have a glimmer of hope.”

Her friend nodded in agreement. “It is only a matter of time until we are reunited. If there is anyone who can find them and bring us together again, it’s you, Valda. After your stunning escape plan from that damn ship I believe you could do anything.”

For the next few months, the pair continued going southeast. Now, though, they had a distinct objective. Vahlen asked around about the Founders - about XCOM - in the Resistance communities the group traveled through. Over time, the picture began to present itself. XCOM was operating in the Americas, far away from the pair. Vahlen considered doubling back to Europe, but after hearing of the holdouts in Japan reasoned that the way to get closer to XCOM might be across the Pacific instead of the Atlantic. Thus, the two headed for the coast. As they neared it, however, new information surfaced. Groups in eastern Asia were being armed with magnetic weapons, courtesy of none other than XCOM. All of a sudden, after their second broadcast that reached half of the cities in Asia, the Resistance cadre had come to the largest continent itself. In exchange for showing them how to repurpose some fallen mechanical foes, Vahlen got into direct contact with one of the better-armed cells, and made a call.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

ZombieSplitter53 and DarkGemini24601: “Warmth, Part 2”

Kyushu, one of the islands of Japan
1452 Hours, October 7th, 2038
Onboard the Avenger
Level 3, Rear Block
Skyranger Hangar

The landing platform lowered back into the confines of the Avenger, carrying with it the pilot and two occupants. The hatch opened and was laid ajar, allowing the two thought-dead XCOM staff members to step out onto the metal floor. Waiting to greet them was the Commander herself, the Chief of Engineering, and the three other members of the Chambers family. Veronica was the first one of the ship, looking around in wonder until she met the gaze of her family. Both sides seemed to be frozen, unsure what to do. It had been twenty years, after all. And this was an unusual reunion to be sure.

It was Alexis that stepped forward, waving her hand towards herself. “W-well? What are you waiting for? What happened to that big hug?” It was all her mother needed to hear, and she rushed forward. She ran into her family’s waiting arms, the four hugging each other tightly and sobbing softly.

Valda stepped out second, her gaze meeting the stoic look of her daughter. Smiling helplessly, Vahlen walked forward. “You’ve grown a lot since we’ve last met. To think you’re in charge of the Engineering division now… can I at least say I’m proud?”

Lily sighed. “You can.” Shaking her head, she stepped forward, embracing her mother. “I’m glad you’re alright,” she spoke quietly, betraying the relief she had tried to suppress. “All those years ago, when you… when you told me who you were… I wanted to… I wanted to…” Lily mumbled incoherently.

“It’s alright. We’ll have plenty of time to talk. I’m just glad to see my daughter again, doing so well,” Valda responded contently. “I have to ask though… who’d you get to replace me?”

Lily chuckled, wiping away some tears that were threatening to form, and answered. “A guy named Robert Tygan. He’s pretty good at what he does… I’m not sure you’re going to be able to pry him away from his position.”

“I don’t intend to,” Valda replied with a shrug. “I’ll help where I can. That’s good enough for me at this point.”

“Same here,” Veronica stated, able to pry herself from her family’s grasp long enough to look at the others. “I’ve been out of the game for too long, and if my precious babies are going to help, of course I will.”

Both the girls blushed, and Alex muttered, “It begins.”

Joe ruffled her hair. “And you will love every embarrassing second of it.”

Veronica smiled at everyone, though that smile faded slightly when she looked at Atka. “Hey… Atka… um, I mean, Commander. I hear you’ve had it rough. Gave up a few valuable pieces of your… anatomy for this job.”

Atka looked down for a moment, and her face creased into a slight smile. “I may look like a frankenstein monster, but I’m alive, and my will is unbroken. That’s all that matters.” She looked back up with one dark blue eye that was natural, and another that shone with electrical light. Extending a hand, she added, “and just Atka is fine. We’re old friends, after all.”

Vicky walked over, and suddenly sprang forward, wrapping her arms around the other woman. “Thank you, Atka. You kept them safe. You kept them alive. I will never be able to repay you. And…” She released Atka and stepped back, her expression sad. “I’m sorry about… about Desmond. When I saw his announcement a few months back… I couldn’t believe it. I had an easier time believing you guys had made it then what he became.”

“For every traitor there’s ten more people who didn’t give up and become monsters,” Atka responded with a sigh. “I take solace in that fact, if nothing else.”

Veronica nodded. “Well… I want us to catch up on everything. Just you and me. But… if you don’t mind, I have a pair of daughters that have been neglected two decades worth of motherly love, and I need to get to work catching up.”

Atka nodded. “Of course. I’m happy I could reunite you,” she spoke sincerely, smiling genuinely. And I’ll introduce you to someone that bears your name in the middle of theirs as soon as I can.