RP XCOM2: Liberation of Earth

[ZombieSplitter53]

Shieldbearer Autopsy

- Loading File Report SB919_DC...
- ...
- .....
- ..........Load Complete

--------------------

Jennifer stands over the already open remains of a grey-skinned human, clamps holding his chest open, a sheet draped over his lower body. Jennifer has a mask and goggles on her face, and blood on her gloves. "It is odd," she starts, her eyes saying she is smiling. "It's strange to think that I've done more autopsies on someone of a different species than my own. This is a unusual... well, that makes me sound morbid."

The image switches to her head camera, showing the inside of the cadaver. "Well, this person is human. For the most part, anyway. Organs are all increased in size. And I mean all. Heart, lungs, stomach, liver. Even his appendix is bigger then normal. Either for the same reason, or he was about to die of appendicitis anyway." She giggles at her own joke, then clears her throat in embarrassment as she pulls out the stomach to be weighed.

The camera shifts to an overhead view. "Blood tests and genetic analysis indicates that he not only had Sectoid DNA, but Muton as well, at least based on our old Muton samples. This would account for the increase in... well, mass. I wonder if it increase aggression as well. What I wouldn't give to compare brain samples and scans to a living individual." She taps her mask in thought. "I wonder if I could convince our good doctor that a cranial CT scan, and an itsy, bitsy brain biopsy of Ms. Van Dam would be... beneficial for her health." Her eyes said she was grinning. "I'm sure he wouldn't be... too hard to convince, considering..."

Again, Jennifer clears her throat in embarrassment, and moves back to the body, the camera angle being from the forward shot again. "At any rate, there isn't too much more I can learn from the body itself... at least not on the surface. The 'real' gain from him is his armor and equipment. Dr. Tygan was really happy to see that, all the thoughts of research potential running through his head. I swear, he might have let out a cry of joy if he wasn't such a..." She blinks several times in thought, and gives the camera a nervous look. "...w-wasn't such a steadfast, dedicated professional, far to busy making us great to worry about such superficial things."

Jennifer laughs nervously. "Of course, I for one sees the gold mine this man has to offer. Various parts of him hold unseen treasures. For example, the nervous system seems to be altered to be more sensitive to psychic signals, and it might even have cloned components. And every cell in his body speaks volumes of information about genetic engineering and gene splicing between multiple species! I might have preferred another alien from the mission... and I totally understand why that wasn't possible... but I am glad to have this chance! I wouldn't mind a few more bodies to cut up! I... boy, that came out wrong. Point is, I have a lot of analysis to do. Who knows? Someday, we might want to start splicing in Muton and Sectoid DNA ourselves. And when that day comes, who will they have to thank for already doing a bunch of the research? Jennifer Chambers, that's who." She waves her hands over the body excitedly. "Imagine if we had a soldier with the strength in these arm!" she says, gripping the body's right arm. "If they had this kind of lung capacity. This strong of a heart. And I bet these legs can run for..."

Jennifer lifts the sheet a bit, and stares underneath for a few moments, her eyes going wide. She slowly lowers the sheet again, her face completely red as she removes her mask, goggles, and gloves. "I think... now would be a g-good time fffor a break..."

- End recording...

 

[DarkGemini24601]

Taxor_the_First and DarkGemini24601: “Sword and Shotgun, Part 1”

1823 Hours, June 24th, 2038
Somewhere in Greenland
Onboard the Avenger
Level 3, Rear Block
The Armory

“Are you…” Samuel exclaimed as the screw fell behind the weapon bench. With a scowl he crouched down and began searching for the offending piece of metal. This happens again, I may need to accept I’m just clumsy, he thought, locating the screw and clasping it in his hand. A smug smile on his face, he began to rise only to clip his head on the underside of the bench. “Oh for the love of…”

“Having a bit of a trouble?” Yakone asked in understatement as she walked over. The Inuit-Caucasian Ranger was dressed in her tactical armor, though she had her helmet under one shoulder and her PDW under that of her dominant arm. Attached to that right side of her chestplate - on the back - was a clamp from which a blue cape protruded. Although it was hard to scrutinize at first, it was indeed that of an ADVENT officer - albeit recolored with a more XCOM hue.

The Russian grimaced, holding his head. “Just a little,” he admitted, rising with more care this time and turning to greet the newcomer. He raised his eyebrows at her attire. “You knit that yourself?”

Yakone glanced over her shoulder, and shook her head when she turned back to face him. “No. More of a… memoriam.”

“So a trophy.” Samuel shrugged, and returned to the assault rifle he was outfitting. “Eh, to each their own. I’d just think one of those would get in the way.”

The Ranger chuckled. “Not… exactly. And they fold up surprisingly well. I’d only let it flow in the wind for dramatic effect,” Yakone told him. “Name’s Yakone, by the way.”

“Samuel,” the Russian returned. “Trooper, part time intelligence. You?”

“Ranger, part time scientist,” Yakone clarified. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

“Scientist?” He chuckled, leaning on the bench and folding his arms. “You pick that cape off an autopsy table?”

“Out of a... freezer. I don’t do the autopsies, that’s Jenn’s territory.” Yakone bit her lip. “Look, there is a perfectly good reason I adopted this thing other than graverobbing!”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Samuel stated. “I’m not against you graverobbing anyway. If there’s something useful they have, then take it. Not like they’re using it anymore.”

“Well… yeah, we are doing dissections and everything. But not out of mal…” Yakone reconsidered. “Okay, Jennifer rips the bodies apart out of malice.”

The Russian tilted his head. “Who?”

“One of our scientists and a friend of mine. Daughter of our Chief of Intelligence. Chambers?” the young Inuit-Caucasian woman elaborated.

He looked at her blankly. “Chambers has kids?” he asked, almost incredulously. “Beh. Some intelligence operative I am.”

Yakone chuckled. “Yeah. Though I don’t blame you for not realizing. Their mother isn’t around anymore.”

Samuel grimaced. Welcome to the club. “Too many of those stories around,” he said. “You don’t find too many people in the Resistance with intact families.”

“Yep. Guess it’s something that should just be assumed at this point,” Yakone remarked. “Grim realities aside, what were you having trouble with?”

“Hmm? Oh.” The Trooper indicated the assault rifle. “Just toying with a rifle. Fingers weren’t working properly and I dropped a screw.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d prefer to be testing my aim, honestly, but I couldn’t find anything resembling a shooting range on this ship.”

“Shooting range?” Yakone laughed. “We don’t have room for that crap. When we land anyone that wants to test out their aim does so outside.”

Samuel blinked once, then sighed. “And here was me thinking everyone was just going out for really long piss breaks.” He shook his head. “I’ll have to take a look later. Bit of fresh air might do me good, I’ve been stuck inside the ship basically since I got here.”

“Haven’t gone out into the field yet? You poor, poor Rooskie...”

“No, not yet. You?”

“Went on Gatecrasher and Burning Stallion,” Yakone stated proudly.

“And I notice you’re still alive.” Samuel smirked. “Do any pre-autopsy slicing you were particularly proud of?”

“Cut down a Viper on the former, and that was pretty badass. Cutting into an ADVENT Gunner wasn’t exactly as pleasant,” the Ranger responded.

“Fair enough,” the Russian said. “I wouldn’t be able to use a sword. Too much risk for me. At least with a shotgun or an assault rifle you can keep your distance a bit. I suppose you’ve got the choice, but still…”

“Well, that’s why you’re a Trooper and I’m a Ranger,” Yakone said with a roll of her eyes. “Thanks for the lesson in common sense,” she snarked.

“Hey, you’d be surprised how few people I’ve met have common sense,” Samuel quipped. “Anyway, I never asked about your gear. You look like you just came back from a mission.”

Yakone shook her head. “No, I was just planning on grabbing my sword from here and doing some training outside in battle garb.”

“I see,” the Trooper said. “You mind if I tag along? Wouldn’t mind a bit of actual practice, in case I get called up for a mission soon.”

Yakone shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Just as long as you don’t embarrass yourself compared to me, rookie.”

A smile tugged at the sides of Samuel’s mouth. “Bah, you’re just scared I’ll outclass you,” he said, grabbing his assault rifle off the bench and another shotgun from one of the weapon racks. “You’ll probably get me on navigation though. I’ve got no idea how to get off the ship barring jumping off the side.” He motioned forward. “Probably best you lead.”

Yakone retrieved her sword, placing it in the holster on her back, and began walking towards the ladders. She had Samuel follow her down those, down a hallway on the belly of the ship, and down an extended ramp to the ground. The tundra of southern Greenland stretched out around them as far as the eye could see. “Welcome to the northernmost country in the world.”

The Russian’s breath misted in the cold air. “I can tell,” he said, rubbing an arm to warm it.

The Ranger raised an eyebrow. “A Russian? Cold? What is this?”

Samuel frowned. “You did say this was further north,” he pointed out. “And just because I’m Russian doesn’t mean I don’t feel cold. My adoptive father was Australian, and he always complained about the heat.”

“That makes both of you not true members of your countries,” Yakone responded with an amused grin. “For shame.”

“Hmph.” The Trooper dropped the shotgun to the ground and began checking his rifle. “What country do you come from then?”

“I’m half Inuit, and this isn’t so bad after living in Nunavut and then the Yukon for most of my childhood,” Yakone told him.

“Inuit? Huh. Not many of your people around. Least not where I grew up.” He paused. “That’s around the Europe-Africa kind of zone, by the way. Me and my father were moving all over the place.”

“You’ve been in or near Africa?” Yakone said with a high degree of surprise. “Continent’s like a fortress for ADVENT isn’t it?”

Samuel grimaced. “It is now,” he said. “Still getting their hold on it when we were there. Frankly, they can have the whole damn continent. You’re either cloaked in sweat or dust there, both if you’re unlucky. And heat aggravates my back sometimes. I was happy to be out of there.”

“Well, you were probably in the parts they didn’t turn into an alluring paradise,” Yakone countered. “Personally I’d take dust and sweat and freedom over that any day though.”

“We spent the last few years up in Russia,” the Trooper continued. “Cold’s easier to deal with than heat. With cold, you can put on as many layers as you need. Heat, there’s only so many layers you can take off before you get arrested for public indecency.”

Yakone shrugged. “Considering the cops these days are the bad guys you could just do that anyway.”

“Then you’d be an idiot for forgetting your body armor,” Samuel countered. “Thought I suppose with some of the weapons they’re toting we may as well be wearing nothing at all.”

“We’ll get the plated armor working eventually…” Yakone returned. “But anyway, what do I know? I’ve been pegged by one of my best friends as an exhibitionist already.”

The Russian laughed. “People on this ship like a bit of gossip don’t they?” he said. “One of my friends gets a lot of implying that his relationship with his drone goes beyond most Specialists.”

“Oh, Lester? I met him after Gatecrasher,” Yakone remembered. “I got that impression too.”

He squinted at her. “I… really?” He brought his hand up and rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean… you’d need to attach something to even… Ah, whatever. I’m not going down that path.” Although he does tinker with it a lot…

Yakone laughed. “Well on one front it’s too late… I have the mental image stuck in my head now. Who knows, if he’s a robophile maybe we can bring that Codex we recovered back to life and…”

Samuel visibly recoiled. “Some people may be into that kind of thing. From the descriptions I’ve heard, I wouldn’t be able to get various images from horror movies out of my head. Bit of a buzzkill.”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

Taxor_the_First and DarkGemini24601: “Sword and Shotgun, Part 2”

“Never really was interested in horror movies… I’m more of an action movie type of guy,” Yakone asserted.

“Guy?” the Russian asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What? Am I not allowed to use that word?”

“Well… I mean… in reference to yourself… when you’re very clearly female…” Samuel gave up. “Nevermind. I just found it odd you’d say that, and being Intelligence staff I pick up on things like that.”

“I tend to think more along the lines that a guy would, what can I say? I’m more of kindred spirits with the male gender than the female one. Not to say I’m not at home being as a woman… it’s complicated,” Yakone ‘explained’.

“You’re a tomboy,” Samuel stated. “Suppose there isn’t much room for quote ‘girly girls’ unquote in this day and age.”

“Unless you want to talk about our cook,” Yakone responded dryly. “I’ve heard stories… and her brightly colored cupcakes give me diabetes from looking at them, not from eating them.”

“Hey, it gets results. Better than salvaged prefab.”

“ADVENT cupcakes are not even cupcakes though, that doesn’t count,” the young woman replied.

The Russian frowned. “They’re not? What the hell are they then, chocolate coated Sectoid heads?”

Yakone’s shoulders shifted. “No one knows.”

Samuel was silent for a moment. “Well, I’m not eating those for a while then,” he said cheerfully. “Not much of a sweet tooth anyway.”

“Me neither, but sometimes I need the energy when my natural exuberance isn’t enough,” Yakone stated. “Alright, let’s see here…” Yakone pulled up her PDW, which was colored with a design looking like a killer whale. She fired a laser beam at a point in the nearby hill, and then etched a rough circle with subsequent shots. “There’s a make-do target for us.”

“Already impressive,” the Trooper noted. “Considering those aren’t exactly long range weapons.” With a competitive grin, he raised his own rifle and fired, glancing the middle. “Ah dammit.”

“Eh, you get lucky sometimes. I am of the spray and pray persuasion. I don’t like shotguns because that doesn’t work very well with them and they’re too competitive with the range of my sword,” Yakone explained as she took some wild shots of her own.

“Maybe so, but a shotgun firs multiple pellets at once. If you don’t kill something with that, then you weren’t going to win that fight anyway.” He fired twice more, both landing slightly off the centre of the target. “And this is why I’m not a Sharpshooter.”

“Troopers are supposed to have good aim too,” Yakone helpfully reminded him.

You were trained by someone that used a sniper rifle. Where’s all that discipline gone? “I haven’t fired a gun in weeks, cut me a little slack,” Samuel said half jokingly.

“There are targets inside. You just need earmuffs, you slacker,” Yakone chided him.

“I don’t think they’d appreciate being called ‘targets’,” the Russian said, firing again. This time, the shot was relatively on point. “There we go.”

“I meant in the armory dumbass,” Yakone said, her shots making a vaguely star-shaped pattern around his. Or maybe that of a flower.

“Alright, now you’re just showing off.”

“It’s unintentional I swear!” Yakone protested.

“I guess you’re just a natural artist then,” Samuel said, smirking.

“Maybe… I did pick up carving rather well. Though I haven’t done it much since my… teacher got killed by ADVENT.”

“Carving?” the trooper asked, trying to steer the conversation back to happier subjects. “What do you carve? Wood?”

“Animal bone,” Yakone replied. “It was a tradition of our tribe.”

“Sounds therapeutic. Probably a bit more practical than carrying a canvas around with you,” Samuel quipped. “The only ‘art’ I dipped into was music, and even then my experience is fairly limited. And heavily influenced by my father.”

“What was this guy like?” Yakone asked curiously. “You seem to look up to him a lot.”

The Russian paused for a moment, after which he lowered his rifle. “Logical,” he said at last. “Even when he was panicking, he never really panicked. He had a reason for everything he did. He was…” Samuel chuckled. “He had a pretty large role in getting us where we are now, actually. Helping keep the Resistance organised. It’s why I’m a part time Intelligence guy. Time spent helping him sort through data has sort of trained me for it.”

“You’re an intelligent guy? I would never have known,” Yakone quipped. “And… was your dad… no, he couldn’t have been…”

“Everyone keeps telling me he’s probably dead. And they’re probably right. Not many people come back out of ADVENT custody.” His left hand flexed. “But so long as there’s a chance I can get him back…”

“Okay, I have to ask now. Was he… the Overseer?” Yakone questioned.

Samuel snapped his head around to look at her. He sized her up for a moment, clearly having not expected the guess. “... you’re remarkably well informed,” he said, adjusting his footing. “Yeah, he was. Previously. Past tense. Passed that torch a few years ago. And now ADVENT has him.”

“Well, I’m one of the original members of XCOM… sort of. I suppose I’m somewhere inbetween. Point is, I knew that the Commander was working with him firsthand. Only talked to him directly once.”

“Sounds like you’re more than just the average soldier I took you for,” the Russian admitted. “You the Commander in disguise or something?” He laughed at that. “Nah, that wouldn’t be right. He always said she was a bit uptight, and you don’t strike me as that at all.”

Yakone lowered a fist that she had started to raise. “Yeah, I’m not comparable to her.”

The motion went unnoticed. “So what are you then, an officer? Should I have saluted you earlier?”

“No… just normal Yakone.”

Wait. Think about this for a moment. She said she was Inuit. You yourself commented on how rare that is. Who else do you know in a position of power that has that kind of heritage? “Oh boy.”

Yakone narrowed her eyes. “Oh boy what?”

Samuel gulped. “I wasn’t too far off when I was talking about the Commander, was I?”

“Do you want to die, buddy?” Yakone questioned, resting her hand on the hilt of her sword.

“Hey, hey! Calm down, I was only asking if she was your mother!”

“Yeah, she is! And I’m tired of everyone making such a fucking production about it!”

The Russian glanced at her sword nervously. “Well, it’s a fairly big thing to find out. Whether you like it or not, the fact that you’re the Commander’s daughter is going to have an effect on how people look at you.”

“I’m not like her though. I hate being compared to her.”

Samuel resisted an instinctual frown. “Blood relation isn’t comparing,” he said. “Besides which, any comparing would end in your favour. Already I can tell you’re a better person to be around. So is being compared to her really such a bad thing?”

“She can’t even be called a mother. That teacher I mentioned before? She was more of a mother to me,” Yakone growled.

“Was?”

“I told you she died, remember?”

The Russian paused. “Oh. Sorry, I was a bit distracted by the…” He motioned to her sword. “... the murderous intent.”

Yakone finally stopped unsheathing it and stepped back. “Sorry.”

“No problem. If you’d actually come at me with that… then we’d have had a problem.” By which I mean I would have had a problem. “This is… something that’s happened a lot recently, huh? With all the new people just making the connections…”

“I tried just flat out saying my last name and dealing with it, but people tend to make half the damn conversation about me being the ‘commander’s daughter’. If it were still a thing I feel like I would be pressed to legally change my name to that,” Yakone responded with a groan.

Samuel chuckled. “I’m lucky in that regard. My biological parents didn’t really affect my life beyond the first five years.” His expression fell slightly. “Not that that’s necessarily a good thing. I barely remember them now. All I had growing up in the Resistance was an adoptive father that used to kill people for a living and a ‘sister’ that used to tease me all the time.” He grinned. “Couldn’t ask for a better upbringing.”

Yakone smirked slightly. “I suppose not,” she said in a tone that made it hard to tell if she was being serious or not. “I grew up constantly on the run, didn’t settle down until I was eleven and we got this hulk of metal for ourselves,” she told him, gesturing up at the Avenger.

The Trooper shrugged. “Eh, keeps out the rain better than a tent. And it’s a lot better than that run-down house I was living in just a few weeks ago.” He looked back at her. “You… mentioned your mentor. Who were they?”

“My aunt, Nouja,” Yakone elucidated, her voice getting a bit distance. “One of the kindest people I’ve ever known, and also one of the most inspiring.”

“Nouja…” Samuel frowned internally. I remember father mentioning the Commander’s sister. Gave her life so that everyone else could escape, if I remember correctly. Sad story. Probably why she’s supposedly so bitter now. “I’m sorry to hear she was taken from you, then.”

Yakone shrugged. “Like you said earlier, happens to everyone. Nothing can be done about the past.”

“A good attitude to have.” He spread his hands. “There, see? Not so bad, and I’m not judging you for your familial connections. What a surprise.”

“Congratulations for not being an asshole,” Yakone said with a roll of her eyes.

 

[MarineAvenger]

Aftershocks Part One (ZombieSplitter53 and MarineAvenger)

On board the Avenger
Rec Room/Bar

“I don’t know,” Jennifer said, taking a sip of her alcohol-free cranberry juice. “They looked pretty… chummy.”

Alexis swirled her beer in her glass, and shook her head. “It… it’s all hearsay. Never trust hearsay.”

“If you say so.” Jenn shrugged. “Just be sure you know what you are getting into.”

“Oh please…” A woman said behind the two, budging in between the two. “It ain’t no heresay! I saw it with my own two eyes.” The woman was Sam, a darker colored woman from engineering, her New Orleans accent making her distinct enough from across a room. Apparently her family spoke it out in the Shanties in defilement.

Alexis looked the woman up and down. “Oh? And exactly what did you see?”

“Oh nothing… just his arms around her waist and ass, lifting her into the air so their faces were so close. I am sure they were stealing a secret smooch, and the girl looked around and smiled when people were watching because they know that stud is your piece.” Sam told Alexis, completely ignoring Jenn.

Alex looked put off, returning her gaze to her drink. “Maybe…” Jennifer started. “Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe… it looked a lot worse than it actually was. You know… angles and such.”

“Trust me toots, I know that look she had. It was a woman who got what she wanted, and what she wants is your man. Not totally your fault, but if you had just rode his ass on the first date like I told you to, he maybe wouldn’t go around kissing other dames. This is why Sam is always right. Not even to mention it is that girl, Gwendoline. The same chick you know wants your boy’s jock.”

“That… that’s enough.” Jenn shot her a sour look. “Don’t…”

“Do you think he was… was into it?” Alexis interrupted. “Mmmaybe he was just… trying to be nice, and… and she took advantage of him.”

“Alexis, please…”

“Hush little sis… now look here. ‘Ol Sam knows what a man likes. And that man… whoof… he was all into that French ass. You gonna let her just ride on in and take what is rightfully yours?” Sam encouraged the woman.

Alexis’ eyes darted back and forth in a familiar determined manner that made her sister sigh saddly. “You not really going to let this…”

“You’re right! No way I’m letting some horny bitch take my man!” Alexis chugged her beer and slammed the glass down. “Where is she? I’m gonna show her who the alpha female is!”

“Thought you would never ask.” Sam said with a devious smile, slipping her a napkin with a door number on it.

***

Gwen paced around her room, shaking her head over and over again as she read from a tiny book in her hand, closing her eyes as she finally said out loud, “J'ai donné sucer, et savoir. Comment tendre' tis à aimer le bébé qui me laits: Je, alors qu'il souriais dans mon visage , Ont pluck'd mon mamelon de ses gencives désossés, Et dash'd la cervelle , avais-je sous serment que vous Ont fait pour cela.” She said all in French, having used the past fifteen minutes to remember how to say it in her native language, and she said it again, and again, finally smiling. “There… that sounds right. Not even the queen’s english can break my homeland’s blood.” She stated, letting out a maniacal laugh fit for a cartoon villain.

A pounding came from the door, echoing through the room. “I’m looking for a Gwen. She in there?”

“Yeah, you got her!” She called back, throwing her book to the bunk as she walked to the door mumbling, “Break the damn thing why don’t ya?” Under her breath, opening the door.

A very sour looking Alex stood on the other side, her arms folded. She looked Gwen up and down and scoffed. “He is having a problem choosing between you and me? No contest.”

“Um… excuse me?” Gwen asked, looking over the woman. “Why has a cow come to my door mooing?”

“Because a bitch came to my man’s leg panting and humping,” Alexis responded.

“Your man’s…” Gwen tried racking her brain, then scratched her head. “Are you… Alexis?”

“That’s right. Alexis Chambers. Up and coming Trooper, engineer, and kicker of home wrecker ass.”

“Well… seems you know who I am.” She said, stepping to the side with a sigh. “Come in.”

Alexis narrowed her eyes, but cautiously stepped in. She stepped in a few feet before turning to Gwen, keeping her arms crossed.

Gwen shut the door rather quickly, turning around herself, her own arms crossed. “How dare you come to my room throwing accusations like that! I know full well Luke is yours!”

“Not what I heard,” Alexis said in an almost creepily calm tone. “Heard you had your hands all over him. Hugging… touching… maybe even a kiss or two.”

“First of all, he hugged me. And I didn’t kiss him. He got too close and I told him to let go. His old habits are hard to break, said it himself. That’s why I made him give me just a normal hug.” Gwen explained, though her tone was accusational. “Because we both knew this would happen.”

Alexis’ eye twitched a bit. “Oh… knew what would happen?” Bitch…

“That someone would tell you, and then you would get all pissy like some stupid sit-com or something. So here it is, plain and simple. Luke is yours, and that is that.” Gwen said with spite.

Alexis slowly walked forward. “Nuh uh. It isn’t that simple, and we both know it. Luke told me how you went all suck face on your one date. And I was told you looked like you were happy. Everyone saw you two together.”

“Yeah, of course we looked happy. He is one of my few friends here, lay off.” The Frenchwoman shot back. “I heard you had a sister. Gonna point the finger at her next time too because she is alone with your boyfriend?”

“Only if she had the hots for him!” Alexis stopped directly in front of Gwen. “Are you saying you don’t have any feelings for him anymore? That you aren’t a little bitter I came along and basically stole your boyfriend without ever meeting you first?”

Gwen’s fist shook as it clenched, shaking her head. “He wasn’t mine to lose in the first place. Why would I ever love that rude mouthed, no manners gorilla!”

“You’re lying!” Alexis got right in Gwen’s face. “You cared about him! You were pissed when I stole him, weren’t you? Put off in the worse way that you lost!”

“Yeah, and so what!?” Gwen yelled back in Alexis’ face. “I had small feelings for him! Is that a crime!? Tie me up on a post and throw the torch on the kindling, another woman had some feelings for her boyfriend, shout it to the fucking heavens for all I care! Because you know what!? Despite the pain I felt I grinned and beared it, because I am not some purple haired, fucking big titted, finger pointing… bitch!”

Alex leaned in closer, as if daring Gwen to do something. “Must bother you so much that I took him from you without even considering your feelings. That you lost him to someone you didn’t know. That he brushed you off, and so did I.”

Gwen almost wanted to reach out and strangle the woman till her smug face went away, her hand clenched so hard it drew blood because her nails dug into her palm. Gwen lowered her face, and in a weak voice said, “Get out…”

“No.” Alex said, standing up straight and placing her hands on her hips. “Make me.”

A few droplets fell from Gwen’s face, thumping on the metal floor of her room, the woman’s whole body shaking. “Haven’t you done enough? If you wanna hit me, go ahead. Beat me black and blue for all I care. Excuse me for wanting to have feelings for once…”

 

[MarineAvenger]

Aftershocks Part Two (ZombieSplitter53 and MarineAvenger)

Alex’s hard expression quickly melted away, and she lowered her arms. “What… what are you talking about. I’m not going to hit you. You… you’re supposed to hit me, stupid. You’re supposed to beat me black and blue.”

“For what? ...For being the better woman?” Gwen asked softly, reaching an arm up, some blood rolling down it and onto the floor from her palm. “You’ve done enough… now go away. I’ll stay away from Luke for now on.”

Alexis gave her an almost panicked look, and grabbed her shoulders. “No! I… I came in here… accused you! Insulted you! I stole your boyfriend! A-at the time… I-I didn’t even consider your feelings! I should have talked to you first! You… you’re supposed to get mad! To hate me! Yell at me! Just… hit me or… something… please…”

“What would that prove?” Gwen asked, pulling away from Alexis’ grip as if her hands were hot. “Luke made his choice… why should I kick and scream like some sort of… some sort of brat?” She weakly chuckled, grimly saying, “Luke showed me that love is just pointless for me now. I should be thanking you… I knew it all along. He… He… told me just as much… told me it would be this way. Nobody wants… nobody wants a used toy…”

“How… how can you talk like that about yourself.” Alexis held her stomach briefly, and a pang of guilt made her nauseous. “I… some people have talked about you. They say you're so… energetic. So full of life. And you helped establish a new class of soldier, so you’re creative and smart. Not to mention… y-you’re so…”

“What? Beautiful? Pretty?” Gwen backed up more, so much so she hit the wall. “Yeah… they all say that. But like I told you…” The woman slowly looked up, her eyes streaming tears, red and slightly inflamed, but Gwen had on a forced smile. “I just have to grin and bear it. Make people believe everything is okay. Because once I do that… people will forget you feel pain at all.”

“But that isn’t right!” Alexis insisted. “You deserve to be happy! If someone upsets you, you should tell them, not grin and bear it! Why… who made you think otherwise? An… ex?”

Gwen shook as she laughed harder, though it was a bitter, hate filled laugh. “No… my father…”

“Your… father. But you refered to yourself as a used…” Alexis’ eyes widened in shock, and she took a step back. “You… y-you mean… oh, God…”

“You better make him happy…” Gwen told Alexis bitterly, looking down at her bleeding palm. “Because if you don’t… then I’ll really make you black and blue. And don’t doubt his character. He is better than most men… deep down.”

Alexis nodded. “I will… I swear.” Alexis lowered her head. “Though… with the character I’ve shown today… I’m wondering if he made the right choice.”

“Luke’s stupid… his brain is all muscle and brawn… but at least his heart is in the right place. He made the right choice.” Gwen said, walking back over to her bunk, laying down facing the wall. With her back to Alexis she said, “Now go… you got what you wanted.”

Alexis slowly walked to the door, but paused, looking back. “Please, Gwen… I don’t want to leave like this. You… you deserve better… and I’ve done nothing but bring you down for no reason. It tears me up that I did this to you.”

“You won’t be the last to know. You aren’t the first either.” Gwen said, burying her face in the pillow. “You can beat a dead horse over and over… but it never really feels pain. The horse is already dead.”

Alexis watched the woman for a moment longer before stepping out, feeling worse than she had for a long time.

---------------------------------

Jenn sat patiently, every bad thing her sister could possibly be doing running through her head as she, for about the tenth time, gave Sam a dirty look.

Sam glanced over at her, giving her a coy smile. “Like what you see?”

“As a matter of fact, no,” Jennifer answered. “Why did you do that?”

Sam shrugged. “Hey, she has to stand up for what is hers. If she doesn’t, she will lose that stallion of hers. Besides, the ship is boring. A little drama never hurt anyone.” The woman said with a wave of her hand. “Don’t be mad I gave her the kick in the ass she needed.”

“You gave her a kick because you get a kick out of this, didn’t you?” Jennifer accused. “You got her all worked up because it entertains you.”

“And because I care for our dear Alexis.” Sam said with a smirk. “The action that stems from it is just a… fun little special addition I just so happen to enjoy. What, it isn’t hurting anyone. Well, maybe Gwen when she gets her ass beat for trying to steal what is your sister’s. Should be thanking me. Don’t see you trying to help her little miss.”

“Ahem.” Alexis walked up behind her, her arms folded.

“Hey you.” Sam turned in her seat, holding up her drink. “Did the little piggy squeal?”

Alexis yanked the drink from her hand and splashed it in her face. “Bitch!”

Sam licked her lips, slowly grabbing a napkin as she dabbed her head. “Why such the mean words love?”

“They were just talking! They were hugging as friends! And after what she said to me, I doubt very much she was ‘glad others could see her stealing my man’, or whatever you said. So the question is, was what you said hyperbole, or just a flat out lie to get me worked up!?”

Sam shrugged again, chuckling. “Do I look like a mind reader? I only told you what I saw and encouraged you to… investigate.” The woman said, grabbing another napkin. “Still no reason you should have wasted my drink. I was only helping.”

“I don’t need your kind of help.” Alexis waved for her sister to come with her. “Stay away from me, or the next time it won’t just be the drink in the glass going into your face.”

“Ooo… scary.” Sam smirked. “Just tell me one thing… did she cry?”

“You BITCH!” Alexis swung a hard right to Sam’s stomach.

Sam’s mouth opened in a silent cry as the fist connected, the woman dropping from her seat and onto her knees, grasping her stomach hard as she struggled for breath.

“Stay the fuck away from us, and stay the fuck away from Gwen!” Alexis turned, and walked away, her sister following.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

XCOM Mission Parameters

Operation Spectral Sage
Megacity VIP Rescue
June 26th, 2018

European Continent
French Republic
Paris City Center

XCOM Forces

Menace 1-5

*SQ Brydon, Bonnie [Grenadier]
SQ Delago, Holly [Sharpshooter]
SQ Wei, Arthur [Ranger]
SQ Lester, Matthew [Specialist]
SQ Lazarus, Alan [Ambusher]
SQ Yokolov, Samuel [Trooper]

Gear
Lethal Grenades: AP, HE, CU, AT, Viper, Incendiary
Utility Grenades: SP, TG, Flashbang, Smoke, Rebuff
Miscellaneous Items: Medkit, Battlescanner, Combat Knife, Radio Jammer
Classic Specific: Bear / Spike / IED Trap [Ambusher], HEAT Missile [Specialist]

Mission Briefing

The Overseer picked up some ADVENT comms chatter suggesting the Coalition is in the middle of moving a high-value prisoner. From what they were able to discern, ADVENT doesn’t want anyone to notice. They sent the detainee in a covert car, something that the peacekeeping forces rarely bother to do. This further connotes the importance of the prisoner, both to ADVENT and our information broker.

Had we learned earlier we could have rescued them fairly easily, but unfortunately it’s too late for a quick smash and grab. The prisoner has been dropped off at an ADVENT guard post within the city and is being prepared for pickup by a dropship. Menace 1-5 should make every effort to move swiftly on the site and rescue the VIP before that dropship has a chance to pick them up. Failure could have serious ramifications for the XCOM project.

Objectives:

1) Discern the VIP’s identity and rescue them from the ADVENT landing pad.

Hazards:

ADVENT Network Towers - These scanning poles will be a serious issue on the mission. If they break concealment early on the mission it will be all the more difficult for Menace 1-5 to reach the target. Stealth is key.

Moderate Fog - The layer of evening haze could work to our strike team’s advantage, though it will reduce visibility for both friend and foe.

Sunset - XCOM operatives will have to decide for themselves when it is time to switch to night vision. The sun will set about four minutes into the operation.

Terrain:

The architecture is fairly standard for the heart of ADVENT cities, though it may contain French influences still. The landing pad itself is gated off by high electrified walls and a ‘customs’ building of sorts rife with scanners and security checkpoints. It is entirely possible there might be turrets within the building or by the pad proper.

Civilians:

There will be a moderate civilian presence, and they will all be dogmatically loyal to ADVENT and report our operatives if they see us. Thankfully most of them will be more worried about the curfew and will not be expecting insurgents in the heart of their ‘paradise’.

Enemies:

ADVENT forces will more than likely contain the usual compliment of Troopers, Gunners, Combat Medics, Stun Lancers, and Officers. Menace 1-5 should also be expecting a potential presence of Hoverguards, Scorchers, Assassins, MEC Troopers, and Shieldbearers.

Ethereal forces will more than likely contain Sectoids and Vipers, and may be bolstered by Clerics or even Mutons. Be warned: some civilians may be Mimics in disguise.

Although our intel is spotty on this, there may be robotic units. Keep an eye out for ADVENT Drones and possibly even a Floater.

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Operation Spectral Sage, Intro
Avenger Armory, prior to departure


“It has to be him,” Samuel stated, slipping on a glove. His hand was shaking, he noticed. “Secret convoys? High security? There’s no way it isn’t him.”

Alan shrugged, having already put his gear on. “I’m not saying I think it isn’t. Just that the possibility remains.”

“There is no possibility,” the Russian insisted, turning around. “No one else deserves that kind of escort.” He nodded to the bandana around his friend’s face. “You still have that?”

The Ambusher raised a hand to the cloth, a smirk forming beneath it. “It’s a good identity hider.”

“So why not replace that old skull one with another? It’d work just as well.”

Alan folded his arms. “Sentimentalism. You hypocrite.”

Samuel paused midway through tying his own skull bandana round the back of his head. “Hmm?”

“Nevermind.” The Ambusher pushed off the rack he’d been leaning on and made to leave. “Don’t take too long. Wouldn’t want to piss off Firebrand.”

Outside, he bumped into Lester, who had seemingly been pacing around outside the changing area. “Problem, Lesty?”

The now hooded man scowled at him. “You look ridiculous with that beanie,” he stated bluntly. “Is he decent in there?”

“Who, Samuel? Yeah. Why?”

“Good. I need to have a word with him.”

“Really? You sound almost disappointed.” Alan raised his eyebrows. “Something to tell me? Or are the rumors about you and your Gremlin true?”

“I am neither homosexual nor a robophile. Save your homophobia for Central,” Lester snapped impatiently, pushing past him. “I don’t have time for it now.” He entered in time to see Samuel placing a set of headphones over the top of a standard cap, flicking the microphone attached down in front of his mouth. “You’re more insulated against sound than Bonnie,” Advocate noted.

Samuel, noticing him, quickly adjusted one of the earmuffs so that it was off his ear. “Yeah, well, she’s old. Her hearing’s probably busted anyway.” He indicated his shoes. “Won’t be long, just tightening these.”

“Your haste or lack thereof is not my concern,” Lester said dismissively. “I wanted to speak with you before we got going.”

“Let me guess. ‘Keep in mind that the VIP we’re rescuing could very well be not your father’, right?”

The Specialist grimaced. “… listen. I am not the most loved person on the Avenger. I know that. You know why, though? Because normally I let people trip themselves up. I let them fail. I enjoy watching people fail. And you can learn a lot about someone by how well they come back from a situation like that. Take that Sam woman. Look at how she tried to go about manipulating that Chambers girl. Amateur.” He shook his head. “But what I don’t enjoy is tragedy. You’re placing all your eggs into one very frail basket.”

“Is it really any of your business?” Samuel snapped, eyeing the Specialist with some venom. “Whoever we’re rescuing has nothing to do with you, and I’m sick of everyone telling me not to get my hopes up.” He replaced the headphone, indicating the conversation was over, picked up the three weapons lying next to him and started securing them to his body. “If it turns out to be someone else entirely, you can gloat. Until then, keep your snide mouth shut.” With an irritated air, the Russian left, leaving Lester now the one alone in the room.

He shook his head. “Try to open up to someone and they just get angry,” he muttered, following the Trooper out.

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Part 1

“Alright, listen up,” Bonnie said, projecting her voice over the sound of the Skyranger’s engines. “I’m gonna recap what we’re doing, in case one of you idiots thinks this is assassination instead of rescue.”

“That was one time,” Holly moaned.

The squad leader ignored her. “Some lucky bastard has gone and gotten themselves captured by ADVENT. I say lucky because Command caught onto it through the Resistance network, and apparently there’s less focus on overwhelming force and more on keeping the prisoner’s movements quiet. Now that we know, though, it just makes it easier to nab them and do a runner. Which is exactly what we’ll be doing.

“Firebrand’s going to drop us close by the landing pad we’re breaking and entering, and then she’ll piss off until we’re ready for her to pick us and the VIP up.” She sighed. “Much as it pains me to say this, we’ll be keeping a low profile for as long as we can, so no blowing yer loads until they know we’re there, got it? We sneak in, grab the prisoner, and use the landing pad for our own escape vehicle. Any questions?”

Holly raised her hand. “You want me close by, or far off?”

“Close by this time. We’re not detouring the Skyranger to some random rooftop just to pick your lazy ass up.”

Samuel coughed. “What… what do I do? Am I out in front, in the back…?”

Bonnie frowned. “Wherever your heart desires,” she said sarcastically. “Honestly, if you shoot someone on the ADVENT side you’re already doing better than half the rookies I’ve had to deal with over the years.”

Alan narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. “I thought I did well on our first mission together,” he said. “Considering we wouldn’t have a base now if I hadn’t been there.”

“You got lucky,” the Grenadier said. “Lucky that you had an Arc Rifle, lucky that the aliens still don’t have armor that protects against electricity, lucky you weren’t the one mind controlled, and lucky that shocks to Sectoid nervous systems interrupt their psionic bullshit.”

“And you’re lucky I’m so lucky,” the Ambusher said smugly.

“Dropping in five, you people make sure you’re ready back there,” Firebrand’s voice came over the speakers. “It’s a foggy evening in Paris tonight, about nine minutes until sunset.”

“Everyone has their night vision goggles?” Bonnie asked, patting one of the pouches on her armor to indicate she had hers. The others did something similar or physically brought them out, Samuel and Lester both going so far as to actually put the goggles on their foreheads. “Put them on whenever you feel the need to or ten minutes into the op, whichever comes first. Naturally if you’re out in the open dealing with twenty ADVENT at once, don’t stop to put them on on the dot of ten minutes. If we’re indoors, you probably don’t need them. This Skyranger is coming back with seven people, got it? Not one less.”

A few short minutes later, Firebrand hovered the Skyranger – with stealth mode active of course – over the top of a building close by to the target landing pad. The soldiers tumbled out in an orderly waterfall of bodies, latching onto the ropes descending to the rooftop proper. Six thuds of boots, six tugs on the ropes, six lifelines retracting into the thin air.

Holly made a disgruntled noise. “Yeah, not much I’d be able to do sitting up here anyway with this fog,” she muttered.

The fog would indeed have prevented an accurate long-range engagement, Samuel noted. It wasn’t too bad – objects at a decent distance were still visible, but distorted by the floating water. The edge of the landing pad, only a block away, was visible, just. Below them, the last few trickles of people were starting to make their way indoors. Curfew was coming. A few stragglers, seemingly less worried about the time or simply unaware of it, continued chatting by the sidewalks.

“We’ll need to avoid them,” Arthur grumbled, noticing Samuel’s gaze. “Not sure how familiar you are with operating inside the cities, but the populace has no love for us. They’ll sell us out in an instant if they see us.”

“I’ve never been in a city proper before,” the Russian admitted.

“Well, no time for sightseeing,” Bonnie said quietly, checking the watch strapped to her wrist. “Three minutes until sunset. We need to be at those walls before then.”

Wordlessly, the squad climbed down a roof access ladder, ending up in a dark alley that somehow managed to remain clean despite its obvious lack of traffic. Moving through it to the next block was simple – no civilians, no patrolling guards. Reaching the next street over changed that, however. The walls of the landing pad compound, now seen up close, looked impenetrable. They probably were. Down the wall to the left were a group of chatting civilians, and to the right a patrolling group of three ADVENT troopers, accompanied by a single Officer. For now, they were too far away to see the group, provided they moved fast enough.

Alan glanced wordlessly at Bonnie, who was analyzing the situation. “This is a good opportunity to catch them off-guard,” the Grenadier said thoughtfully.

“And let them tighten security before we even get there?” Lester demanded. “It’s not worth it.”

“We can’t just let them come in behind us,” Alan hissed. “We leave them walking around, eventually they’ll come back to bite us in the ass.”

It was here that Samuel butted in. “Which way’s the entrance?” he asked, looking at Bonnie.

She gestured to the right, the direction the troopers were coming from. “Southern wall. It’s around the corner that way,” she answered.

The Trooper smiled. “Let them pass,” he said, holding up a hand to stop the Ambusher from protesting. “And then place a trap in their route for next time. They’ll have to come back around eventually, and then we get to surprise them without worrying about breaking our cover early.”

The Grenadier started smiling. “I like you already,” she said. “I agree. Once these mooks pass, we’ll get across the street and go right, while Alan sets up a little surprise for them when they come running back. We’ll scope out the entrance while we’re waiting for him to return, and then we’ll react accordingly. Understood?” With the quiet chorus of affirmatives, the group settled back down into their hiding spot, waiting for the soldiers to pass.

When they did, they all slunk out, keeping low to the ground so as to blend in with the fog. The Troopers did not turn around, and continued on their way. Once across the street, the squad began hugging the various vehicles – most of which were the ADVENT equivalent of police and military vehicles – and making their way across to the right while Alan remained behind, deploying an IED in between two cars, linking it to a pressure pad that he placed in the center of the sidewalk. He glanced backward before he rounded the corner, and noticed that the ADVENT squad had completely ignored the chatting civilians. He glanced at his watch. Half a minute until sunset. They should have at least warned them time was running out.

He shrugged and continued forward. Not his concern if the great brainwashed were too stupid to obey their masters.

The Ambusher found his group stacked up on a personnel transport van, all examining the entrance. Even at a glance Alan could see the reason for their hesitation.

“I don’t suppose hacking that pole would stop it scanning?” Samuel suggested.

Lester glared at him. “You clearly have no idea how these Gremlins hack,” he said, his drone bobbing up and down in seeming agreement. “It’s brute force. Sure, it won’t detect us afterward, but only because they’ll already know we’re here. And then we’ve got those Gunners and friends to deal with.”

The conversation was overshadowed – rather literally – by the suns inevitable descent into darkness. The effect was immediate. The fog suddenly became much harder to see through, with little to no light to reflect from its particles of water. Holly immediately put on her night vision goggles, and Lester followed suite after a moment’s hesitation. Even then, visibility was poor.

Bonnie frowned. “Any more bright ideas, or are we going to need to tackle this head-on?”

Arthur examined the setup. “Four foes,” he mused. “A single grenade would impact all of them, I believe. A Viper one certainly.”

“I’m not using one here,” the Grenadier said. “Then the whole bloody building’s gassed off and we need to wait for it to dissipate. It’s vanilla HE or nothing.”

“Maybe dropping one in the centre of all of them isn’t what we want,” Samuel said slowly, drawing a few odd looks.

“Uh, yeah? Yeah it is?” Alan said, confusion evident in his tone.

“Not necessarily,” the Russian said. “We’ve established that sneaking in won’t be working. Holly could probably pop one and then leave us to cleanup, but there’s far too much risk in leaving three of them up. We need them all dead, or at the very least incapacitated.” He motioned to the Network Tower. “So what if you drop a HE grenade on that instead? It’ll hit the two closest, probably mess up their cover, and then that pole drops on the two Gunners, provided you get the right angle.”

Bonnie examined the area, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Tell you what, you can be squad lead next time,” she said, slinging her grenade launcher from her back. “Everyone spread out a bit. Be ready to attack on my mark.”

“Which will be…?” Lester asked.

“Oh, you’ll know.”

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Part 2

The group scattered across the line of parked cars, keeping low so as not to set off the door guard, and away from the scanning poles radius. Holly remained with Bonnie, steadying her rifle against the side of the van. The others checked in when they were ready, turning their mics on and off once to signal preparation. With a deep breath, Bonnie lined up her shot. “Not used to leading the charge,” she whispered to the Sharpshooter beside her. “Usually that’s your job.”

“Eh, you can be Harbinger this one time,” she responded, not moving her gaze from the one Trooper supposedly safe from the coming onslaught. “On your word.”

A soft thunk came from the barrel of the Grenadier’s launcher, and a small spherical object bounced out, towards the pole. Bonnie nodded her head, once, twice. “Now,” she whispered, and Harbinger squeezed the trigger, the bullet passing through the unfortunate Trooper’s lower skull and upper spinal column. Less than half a second later, the grenade detonated, blowing apart the small walls one Gunner and his associated Trooper had been using as cover and damaging their own armor in the process. The Network Tower, it’s bottom now slag, lost support and tumbled sideways, crushing the lone Gunner under its weight, though from the struggling beneath they still lived.

The Trooper shouted something, and the two began a hasty retreat indoors, leaving their incapacitated comrade to the mercy of the Resistance fighters. The Gunner was too slow with his heavy weapon, however, and was gunned down before he could make it indoors.

The reaction of the forces within the landing pad was immediate, a loud klaxon beginning its whining call to arms. “Go on then,” Alan said, indicating the door. “I’ll watch your butts.”

“What have I told you about that?” Bonnie said, returning to her Minigun. “If you’re watching that, you’re looking the wrong way.”

After Lester had put the trapped and dying Gunner out of his misery, the squad kicked open the door and filed in. Their pace quickened when they saw that the remaining Trooper had been baiting them – two Turrets swiveled their cannons forward, spotting the targets.

“Guess that’s how they control entry!” Holly shouted, bracing herself against a metal detector to protect against the rain of magnetic fire pouring her way. She fired her Rotator at one, but missed the shot. “Any more bright ideas Sammy?”

Samuel fired a few beams to distract the leftmost Turret away from Bonnie’s cover-seeking form before taking cover himself behind a concrete pillar. “Shooting them?” he suggested.

Alan poked his head through the door before immediately retreating, a burst of mag fire taking out the air where his head had been. “Fuck that, you guys are on your own,” he said, taking out his cable slinger and using his time to set up wires around the entrance.

In the back of the security checkpoint the lone Trooper raised an arm, grenade held in his hand. He wound back his hand, but never got the chance to throw it – Holly, seeing what he was doing, had peeked out from behind her cover and fired, without much concern for where she hit given the Turret’s pressuring presence. The Trooper howled in pain and dropped the grenade, and was too slow picking it back up. The object exploded at his feet, knocking him sideways to the ground and out of sight. The pellets ricocheted off the walls, some burying themselves in the armor of the Turrets with no discernible impact on performance. They just kept firing.

“They’re just going to chew through our cover if we don’t do something about this, and I’m not sending my Gremlin out in this hailstorm!” Lester snapped. When no one responded with a plan he rolled his eyes. “Must I do everything myself?” He pulled the pin on one of the objects at his belt and slung it around his cover, the front of the Turret closest to him taking the brunt of the AT grenade.

Now with a moment to spare, Samuel ducked out of his own cover, taking a few shots at the other Turret, slicing through the metal plating and damaging its internal systems. But it wasn’t enough to disable it, and it simply altered the direction of its metal stream. “Someone give me a hand?” he asked, returning to the relative safety of his cover.

“Sure,” Holly said, raising her rifle and firing once. Evidently she hit something important, a small explosion marking the device’s end. “Why shoot many bullets when just one will do the job?”

“Careful! That one’s still up!” Lester warned, and indeed the Turret he’d distracted began firing again, taking advantage of the group’s moment of carelessness. They were lucky not to be hit, Samuel reflected as he crouched back down.

“Resilient little bugger isn’t he?” Bonnie commented. “Sam, ready?”

“What?”

She didn’t wait. A spray of bullets erupted from her cover, and the Turret turned its attention there, hoping to capitalize on one of the members exposing themselves. Instead, Samuel shot it with his Beam Rifle, causing a critical failure of its internal systems and a small explosion to boot.

The Russian scowled at her. “Never do that again,” he grumbled, taking the moment to discharge the heat from his pack. “Where’s that Trooper?”

A groan in the back was his answer. They found him crawling away, orange-tinted blood trailing behind him. “No escape,” Lester said coldly, drawing his pistol and finishing the Trooper off. Off in the distance, to punctuate their victory, a single explosion, followed by two more, marked the triggering of Alan’s trap outside.

Samuel raised an eyebrow. “I thought you only had two IED’s,” he said to the Ambusher, the latter having joined them when the gunfire had died down.

Alan shrugged. “I did. Only used one, too. Guess those cars are just as fragile as the ones from twenty years ago.”

The Russian turned and did a mental headcount. “Wait, where’s Arthur?”

The squad communicators chirped in response. “Making certain those soldiers were dead,” the Ranger responded. “Keeping a low profile until I rejoin you, at least.”

“Move your ass then,” Bonnie snapped, before turning to the rest of her squad. “Alright. According to intel, the prisoner was meant to be kept in their cell until the transport arrived, at which point they’d shuffle ‘em out and onto the airship. Which would be…” She turned around to point down the right hallway just as a group of four ADVENT soldiers burst out, a squad with a varied makeup. The Officer leading them pointed at the Resistance fighters and barked an order, prompting the accompanying Gunner and Combat Medic to seek cover within the adjacent room. The Stun Lancer had no such fear, instead deliberately reaching behind its back and bringing out their electrified baton, snarling some curse or other before retreating behind a metal detector.

The squad scattered, taking positions behind walls, pillars, and even the shattered wreck of one of the Turrets in Bonnie’s case. “Suppose they would have heard the noise,” the Grenadier suggested.

The ADVENT Officer almost swaggered back into the doorway from which he’d burst, taking cover behind it and bringing one hand up to his helmet.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Holly muttered, discarding her rifle momentarily to activate and place down her communication jammer. The beeping signaled a lack of signal, and she smiled. “We need to take these guys down before this runs out of juice, or escape’s gonna be rough!” She yelled, firing her Rotator reflexively at the Gunner, which grunted in pain but continued firing.

Unsure of which opportunity to take, Samuel settled into waiting for the enemy to act aggressively. To be precise, the Officer and the Lancer, as with the angle he had the Gunner and Medic were out of his reach. “Perhaps think about a grenade here?” he asked Bonnie, noting the close-quarters nature of the engagement.

“Made fresh to order,” the Grenadier replied, priming another HE into the chamber of her launcher and firing. The grenade sailed over to one of the side walls of the hallway, bouncing off it and landing in the center of their enemies. The cost for hitting them all was high, however – the Gunner was forced back into his doorway to be healed by the Medic, but aside from that only minimal damage was dealt to the enemy party. “How’d that go?” Bonnie asked, unable to see the results from her position around the corner.

“Coulda done worse,” Holly said, firing her rifle at the Medic’s exposed shoulder and smiling at the grunt of pain. “Coulda also done better.”

“Screw off.”

The Officer barked a command and pointed at the Sharpshooter, a small holographic appearing around her. “Oh, that’s not good,” she said, ducking below her waist-height wall as the Gunner redoubled their efforts. “Guess that’s me out.”

Out of seemingly nowhere, Lester’s Gremlin shot out into the middle of the firefight, homing in on the ADVENT Gunner like an angry wasp. And like a wasp, it stung, zapping the unfortunate Gunner before he or the Medic could react. Taking advantage of the gap in suppression, Holly ducked back up and fired, ending the Gunner’s life. “I’d high-five you,” Lester commented as he summoned Lucifer back to him, “but I need both hands for this.”

“That what you tell your drone when you whisper sweet nothings into its ear?” Alan teased, firing his Arc Rifle at the Officer. “Tagged him,” he called.

Samuel poked out of cover, rifle at the ready. He fired once, the beam smacking into the Officer’s armor and burning into the flesh beneath. The Officer bellowed something at the Russian before sinking back into cover, beckoning the medic over.

Seemingly unfazed or even unaware of the bullets and lasers flying around them, the Stun Lancer roared and began a charge forward. Samuel, not anticipating the suicidal maneuver, missed his reaction shot. “Ah, shit.”

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Part 3

Lester, who seemed to be the target, did not, firing once with his Blunderbuss. The Stun Lancer stumbled, but did not stop, preparing to swing the lance for which they were named at the Specialist. As he rounded the corner mid-swing, however, a sixth, previously undiscovered soldier lay in wait.

The Stun Lancer danced backwards as Arthur, who had been lying in wait unbeknownst to even his teammates, fired his shotgun. The timing was off, however, the pellets simply impacting the intervening space between Lester and the Lancer. Not willing to allow that to affect him, the Ranger lunged forward with blade ready, swiping at the ADVENT soldier and forcing them to parry the blow. “You want a duel?” Chariot said, amusement in his voice. “Very well.” The Lancer merely snarled and swiped at him, prompting the Ranger to block the blow.

When Samuel raised his rifle to intervene, Holly waved a hand at him. “Let him do his thing,” she said. “You open fire, you’re just as likely to hit him as that Lancer.” The Russian hesitated, but nodded, knowing she was right. He focused his attention back to the remaining ADVENT enforcers at the end of the hallway, in time to see the Officer leaning out of cover to take a shot at the dueling swordsman while everyone was distracted. Clearly they didn’t have any qualms about potentially hitting a friendly.

The Officer howled in pain when the laser pierced his chest again, throwing off his aim and forcing him to fire wildly into the roof. Samuel frowned as he stepped back behind cover. “How the hell is he still alive?” he wondered.

“Medic must have gotten across while we were occupied with the Lancer,” Lester guessed. “And he’ll just keep patching up until we eliminate one of them –“

“On it,” Samuel said, pulling out his shotgun and moving up without waiting for anyone else. He got eyes on both his foes at once, whipping their heads around to face him like two lovers caught going at it. The Russian merely grinned at them, firing the shotgun and putting the Officer down for good. The Medic spat garbled words at him and raised his rifle, intending to capitalize on the Russian’s forward position.

The mag bullets flew out of the rifle and through the Trooper, causing the Medic to grin… until the distorted light returned to normal, and he saw that Samuel was in fact a meter to the right of where he’d thought he was. The drone hovering beside the Russian chirped angrily. “Don’t rely on me to do that again,” Lester admonished over radio. A loud crack later, and the Medic slumped backwards, shot through the head by Holly.

The band turned around in time to see Arthur win his duel, hamstringing the Lancer and stabbing them through the spine in two swift movements. He flicked the blood off his blade as the Lancer stumbled forward and fell, dead. “Aggressiveness is both their strength and their weakness,” the Ranger concluded, sheathing the sword. “It makes them predictably unpredictable.”

“You mean you read his mind, Mr. Samurai,” Bonnie said, hoisting her Minigun and moving forward. “We’ve already spent too much time messing about. Firebrand, how’s it going up there?”

The radio crackled slightly. “Skies are still fairly quiet, but I think they’ve worked out something’s up. Better make it quick.”

Make it quick they did. After taking a moment to reload the squad pressed forward, past the corpses of the Officer and his colleagues and further into the building’s walls. About midway through the Eastern wall they came to a secure-looking door, steadfastly refusing entry unless proper authorization was given. Within the same room was what was presumably a security console, minus its operator. Probably one of the guys we just killed, Samuel thought idly.

Lester directed his drone to the console. “I’ll take care of this,” he stated, already engrossed in his wristpad. “You all get ready.”

“That looks like it controls more than just that door,” Alan noted. “You think you could do anything else while you’re at it?”

“Yes, one glass of champagne coming right up sir,” Lester said sarcastically. “Unless you want mood lighting, no, I can’t.”

“Mood lighting?” The Ambusher frowned. “How about… shutting off the power entirely?”

“Shutting off the –“ Lester checked his screen. “Actually… yes. I can do that. Should I?”

A grin appeared on Samuel’s face. “Why not? We’ve got night vision goggles, don’t we?”

“And it makes it harder for them to see, plus knocking out any more Turrets they might have sitting around,” Bonnie said, nodding. “I like it. Goggles on, people.”

The squad had only just finished putting the goggles on before Lucifer beeped happily. “We’re in,” Lester said. “Door opening and blackout in three, two, one…”

A hiss emanated from the security door, and it slid open. The light on the ceiling, already straining to chase shadow away from this particular room, gave up the struggle and shut off, enveloping the resistance fighters in darkness once more. And outside, the soft hum of electrical activity ceased, a few clanks punctuating a total shutdown.

“Menace 1-5, you alright in there? What’s going on?”

“All good Firebrand. Just thought it was a bit bright in here,” Bonnie replied. Her smirk immediately fell, however, as the room lit up again in a dull red glow. “What?”

“Emergency generator and emergency lights,” Lester surmised. “Oh well. Can’t be helped, and we still have the advantage.”

They were in the right place. At the back of the room they’d just opened was what looked like a cell, though the only space able to see within was a small slit in the doorway. “Alright,” Alan said, striding forward. “Let’s break this person out and then we can get the hell out of this –“

He didn’t finish his sentence. Over to the left of the entrance, a Muton turned its head to face them, narrowing its yellow eyes as the nearby Sectoid and Viper both hissed.

“Back off!” Bonnie commanded, retreating back through the doorway. Alan bolted back out the door, as did Arthur and Lester, while Holly and Samuel remained on their positions at the entrance. “This changes things.”

Samuel scowled. So close… just a few more minutes, dad. We’ll get you out. “Plan?”

Bonnie was already preparing her grenade launcher. “When in doubt, burn it all down,” she cried, aiming the launcher and firing an incendiary grenade through the door. She was rewarded by angry shrieks from the Sectoid, and a bellow of rage from the Muton. The Viper remained silent, meaning it had probably escaped the blast. “Two for one isn’t bad.”

Holly shrieked as a beam of plasma scorched the doorway next to her, partially melting the metal and concrete. “Fuck off!” she cried, whipping her Rotator out and returning fire, though the Muton seemed largely unaffected by the shot. As she retreated behind cover, however, something caught the corner of her eye. “Ah, shit,” she said, as the Viper’s tongue lassoed a peeking Samuel and tugged him inside.

As soon as he’d stood up again the Viper had her coils around him, squeezing him in her twisting embrace. “You know…” he coughed out, “you remind me of my ex. With the hugging, the teeth, the pushing your breasts into my face…” Further talk was cut off as his lungs suddenly realized the supply of air was no longer consistent, and began struggling to continue functioning. The Viper flicked her tongue in his face, her eyes cold and murderous.

Where the hell are the guys? the trooper wondered. To his left he could hear the Muton roaring, and the Sectoid chattering to itself. Bullet and beam impacts. But no sound of the aliens falling back.

I’m too far in, Samuel realized with a sinking feeling. This positioning is almost perfect. They have a heavily defensible spot, and this Viper is completely out of sight anywhere but where I was. Bloodflow was interrupted in several parts of his body. His vision began to swim and blur. Wasn’t even my fault for being too aggressive, he thought bitterly. Just bad luck.

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Part 4

Silver lights danced at the edge of his vision as the Viper opened her mouth slowly. Bitch probably wants a meal after this. One of the lights, larger and brighter than the others, darted right next to the distracted Viper, contracting slightly for a moment before flashing. The Viper hissed in pain, and unintentionally released the pressure on her captive for a moment. Opportunist that Samuel was, he took full advantage. Reaching his arm around to his back, he brought his shotgun up so that the barrel was facing the underside of the Viper’s mouth. She realized too late what her distraction had cost her.

Arthur moved in after the Gremlin, taking advantage of the tiny target drawing fire to move into a far closer position. Satisfied that Samuel would be sufficiently helped by his allies, he instead focused on the other two aliens, firing his shotgun at the Muton before it even noticed his presence. It recoiled, but turned back, still on fire, still standing. Briefly the Ranger registered the Sectoid behind a crate, in position to take advantage of his exposure. Alan never gave it the chance, successfully landing a burst with his SMG and killing the charred alien.

Bonnie moved to help Samuel. The Viper had been thrown backwards by the sheer force of the shotgun, but the armor had absorbed the worst of it. Worse, it had still been coiled around Samuel at the time, tugging him to the floor with her and preventing him from further retaliating. She rose, hissing, to see Bonnie’s Minigun spinning up. The torrent of bullets that resulted finished the job, tearing through the muscle and cartilage to end the creature’s life.

Which only left a nearly-dead Muton to contend with. Holly, still in the doorway, breathed in deeply. If there was one thing she’d learned affected her aim negatively, it was excitement. Calm was crucial. She aimed at the glowing silhouette of the Muton in amongst the equally glowing flames, mouth set, and fired. The bullet penetrated the alien’s chest, which in conjunction with the fire and Arthur’s shotgun pellets, was enough to finally kill it. It fell to the ground, a death roar spilling from it before it fell into silence and the cold metal floor.

Samuel rose, coughing. “Jesus…”

Lester entered the room, already commanding his drone. “That’s two now,” he said, directing Lucifer towards the Trooper. “Any injuries?”

“Ribs are killing me. Think I heard them creaking at one point.”

The Gremlin obediently sprayed the area with the medkit attached to it, the spray making its way through the Kevlar and into the skin beneath. “There,” the Specialist said, nodding. “That should tide you over until we can get them properly looked at, anyway.” He turned. “As for the cell…”

Bonnie had already tried. “Needs your special touch,” she said, stepping back to allow the Specialist and his Gremlin room.

Samuel winced, holding his torso. The pain was starting to recede, though whether that was due to the painkillers or the healing agents in the medkit he had no idea. “Who…” He stumbled forward, still regaining his coordination. “Who’s in there?”

“Couldn’t see,” Bonnie said. “Just a glowing human-shaped thing. There’s one thing I could tell for certain, though-“

The cell door beeped when Samuel reached it. He reached forward, clasping the handle before Lester did, and pulled it open.

“… they weren’t a guy.”

The woman in the cell blinked a few times and raised a hand to block out the light, the fire and smoke behind the squad darkening their features. Hers were lit up instead. From her facial features she looked African, with dark skin and short black hair. Her prisoner overalls covered a rather scrawny build, and probably whatever marks of her imprisonment ADVENT had seen fit to ‘bestow’ upon her. She lowered her hand, seeing the glowing green dots of Samuel and Bonnie’s night vision goggles.

The prisoner swallowed. “Who-“ She coughed, clearing her throat. Clearly she hadn’t spoken for a while. “Who are you people?”

Samuel stepped back and began walking away slowly, dejected. It isn’t him. He slammed a fist into one of the walls, the base of his hand so as not to injure himself further. It isn’t him.

Bonnie turned away from him. “We’re from XCOM,” she answered, extending a hand. “Here to get you out.”

The woman accepted the hand, allowing the Grenadier to pull her up. She fell forward once she was standing, though Bonnie caught her. It was then Bonnie noticed the gash up the middle of the woman’s left cheek, running all the way up to her forehead. The eye beneath looked scarred, and improperly treated. The gash looked relatively recent, too. “I… haven’t walked for a while,” she apologized.

“No problem. We’ll carry you out if we need to.” Bonnie looked around at the squad. “Lester. Think you can mind her? Even if you can’t shoot, your Gremlin still can.”

The Specialist rolled his eyes. “Oh, fine,” he said, holding the prisoner by the shoulders while she adjusted her grip. “At least you’re not that heavy,” he commented, slinging her arm over his shoulder.

Bonnie raised a hand to her ear. “Firebrand, this is Lass. We’ve secured the VIP. Requesting an evac if at all possible.”

“You’ll need to designate an LZ then,” came the reply. “And from what I can tell, choice is limited. ADVENT isn’t looking too happy out there. The clearest spot you have would be the landing pad itself, I think.”

“You want us to go deeper in?!” Alan asked, alarm evident in his tone. “We don’t know what could be still in here with us, and you want us to go looking for it?”

“It’s either that or we walk home,” Bonnie said. “Alright. We’ll clear a zone on the landing pad, and you can pick us up there.”

“Confirmed. See you there Lass. Over and out.”

A light hand on his shoulder made Samuel turn around to see Arthur standing behind him. “This result may not be what you wanted,” he said sagely. “But you will need to come to terms with the fact that it’s the result we’re getting anyway.”

The Russian scowled, but nodded. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, moving past the Ranger and towards Bonnie. “Alright, what’s the plan then?”

“Get to the landing pad,” the Scotswoman said, reloading her Minigun. “And hope to whatever deity you believe in we don’t run into anything too serious.”

The squad moved out of the room, ammo replenished and weapons at the ready. Lester remained back a little, to keep their VIP out of the fight, and Alan stayed further back, dropping an IED in the door to the room the cell was in and slinging a few cables here and there to impede progress. “So what were you in for?” the Specialist asked, trying to keep the prisoner moving rather than out of simple curiosity. “ADVENT was pretty set on keeping you under wraps, from what I hear.”

The woman kept moving, though her footing was irregular. “I… saw a few things I shouldn’t have,” she answered. “One of their facilities. Even got close to getting inside. But their security is too good. They nabbed me before I could really get anywhere.” She coughed, her voice still raspy. “The place was guarded so heavily… they have to have been hiding something in there.”

“What did you say your name was, again?” Bonnie asked, her voice low.

“Didn’t,” the prisoner replied. “It’s Samara. Samara Vermaak.”

“How did you find that place, Samara?”

Samara smiled ruefully. “Pretty simple, really,” she said. “Just needed to follow the rail line to its end.”

Up in front, Arthur held up a hand. He’d reached the door to the internal compound, where the landing pad was. “We’re here.”

Bonnie took place on the other side of the door and, with a nod, pushed it open. The squad filed in, Alan dropping a bear trap on the ground just inside the doorway. They were greeted with a wide open area, littered with crates of equipment and other miscellaneous items of no interest. On each of the four walls a Turret sat, all of which were deactivated by the lack of power. The center of the compound held the landing pad, currently empty. And scanning the area was an ADVENT MEC unit alongside what seemed to be a Hoverguard, a robotic Floater and a Shieldbearer. To the squad, they were rather clearly visible, something that thankfully did not extent both ways. The MEC’s detection hardware seemed limited to actual vision, thus meaning that it was, like it’s more organic comrades, blinded by the fog blanketing everything. Presumably, the Floater had the same issue.

An explosion off in the distance caused the enemies to jolt out of their relatively calm pacing. The Shieldbearer raised a hand to his helmet, and barked into it. They received a panicked response.

“Guess they know we’ve taken their prisoner,” Alan said. “We need to move.”

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Part 5

“How are we taking these ones?” Bonnie asked. “I’ve only got one incendiary left, and that’ll do next to nothing against those robots.”

“Leave them to me and Bandit,” Lester said, crouched down so that his quarry could seat herself. “Might need a bit of help, but not much.”

“I’ve got a HE I could probably chuck into the middle of them,” Samuel suggested.

“Perfect,” Bonnie said. “Holly, you like this posi –“ She looked around. “Where’d you get off to?”

The Sharpshooter appeared a few seconds later on top of a bunch of crates, hiding behind the topmost one but with height that allowed her to see almost the entire yard. “I like it now,” she radioed. “Ready whenever you are.”

In the end, it was the enemy that initiated combat. Getting close, the MEC spotted something – an errant limb, maybe – and immediately swiveled its gun around, making its standard robotic noises. It’s companions had time to also turn to face the squad before the ground beneath them exploded, Samuel’s HE detonating right in the center of them. The Floater and Hoverguard, both howling in rage, activated their jetpacks and ascended, while the Shieldbearer ran for cover, his arm already glowing in preparation to deploy his shield.

The squad was ready for them. The Floater was shot out of the air before it could do anything by Alan’s Arc Rifle, and the Hoverguard found themselves beset by a torrent of bullets from Bonnie’s Minigun, which with the grenade’s damage killed the flying soldier outright. That was where the luck ended, however. Attempting to stop the Shieldbearer getting away, Arthur fired his shotgun, but only hit one of the crates instead. The MEC’s shifting meant that the headshot Holly had been lining up whiffed, grazing the air beside the robot’s face. Lester, restricted to his sidearm with the prisoner on his shoulder, barely even seemed to damage the MEC, prompting him to pull back a little.

The remaining two ADVENT forces made their moves. Retreating to a safer position, the Shieldbearer raised an arm and slammed it to the ground, cracks of energy skittering across the ground underneath the MEC. A hexagonal shield, six walls of impenetrable energy, rose around it as it crouched down slightly. The object on its back, a missile launcher, spat out a projectile, which after a short flight came crashing down on top of Bonnie and Arthur, who were positioned on the same crates.

Bonnie gritted her teeth as some of the force tore through her padded armor. But she remained standing. Arthur, too, survived the artillery, his cover protecting him from the worst of the explosion. Their cover blown, the two scattered to other crates, the Ranger limping as he went. “Focus on that robot!” Bonnie commanded, turning around and spraying with her Minigun.

Her efforts were combined with Samuel and then some, as the Trooper fired twice, first destroying the shield and then damaging the robot. “Alan!” the Russian yelled.

Alan fired his Arc Rifle, short-circuiting the MEC’s systems and deactivating it permanently. “Big robot down,” he called. “Anyone see that Shieldbearer?”

A shot from Holly’s sniper rifle answered his question, as did the resulting panicked jabbering from her target. “Hit his shield,” she said. “Wait. He’s running away? Someone stop him!”

“Little busy right now,” Lester stated tiredly, directing his drone over to the rather clearly wounded Arthur. “Let him run. He won’t go far.”

Samuel frowned and rose from his cover, examining the three bodies before him. “Varied group,” he remarked. “Glad they didn’t catch us out.”

“We turn hazards into our advantages,” Bonnie said, reloading her Minigun. “Ach, that stings…”

“You alright?”

“We’re nearly out of here,” the Grenadier said. “I’ll survive until then. Arthur deserves that last medkit more than me.” From her tone, it was difficult to discern whether she was speaking to Samuel or herself.

“Hold up,” Holly said, her voice crackling over radio. “I just saw something move over on the far wall.” She paused. “And again. And again. Looked like something just vaulted over. But that can’t be right. Another MEC would make more noise than that.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Alan said, shrugging.

“Exactly.”

“Stop talking in circles and tell us what you saw in no uncertain terms,” Bonnie snapped.

The Sharpshooter hesitated. “Just three streaks of heat going above the wall and then landing on this side. I think. It was pretty fast.”

“We need to keep our eyes open for that Shieldbearer anyway,” Samuel stated. “So long as we be careful, we shouldn’t be caught out.”

The squad shuffled forward at a slower pace, both to keep all angles covered and to ensure Bonnie kept up. They’d reached the foot of the stairs leading up to the landing pad before Holly whistled. “I think they’ve worked out we can see through the fog,” she murmured, pointing across to the other side of the landing pad’s support struts. The Shieldbearer’s arm could be seen in between two crates, flat against one in the manner of someone trying to keep a low profile. “Arthur, you’ve got a Viper grenade on you, right?”

The Ranger brought out the cylindrical object. “I do,” he affirmed.

“Think you could get close enough to him to chuck that in, smoke him out?”

Chariot nodded and began to creep forward, holding the grenade ready to throw. Keeping several crates between himself and the position of the Shieldbearer, he made it relatively close. Certainly within throwing distance. Pulling the pin, Arthur drew his hand back and then flung it forward, the Viper grenade bouncing off a crate and right at the feet of the Shieldbearer.

Their enemy managed to choke out a warning before he began actually choking, the gas released from the grenade working its way into his lungs. “Nice,” Holly said, taking aim. “Now he’ll have to come out, and when he does-“

Something flew out of the gas. Then two more things, bounding up and into the clear fog around them. The squad all turned their weapons to fire, but the unexpected nature of their movement resulted in mostly misses, only Holly scoring a shot against their new agile opponents. The three streaks of flesh bounded to a halt, one clutching its arm in pain and scowling at the squad.

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Part 6

“I don’t understand,” Samuel stated as their opponents all leaped for cover. “They looked like civilians, but…”

“Those are most certainly not civilians,” Alan said, switching his Arc Rifle out for his SMG. “Which just means you can shoot them as much as you want with no guilt.”

“It’s a good strategy when you think about it,” Lester added, securing himself and Samara behind cover. “Take the one thing your enemy doesn’t destroy and camouflage your forces as that thing. They mimic civilians. And they already had the template from the war.”

“You can continue your history lesson on the Skyranger,” Bonnie interrupted. “For now, all you need to know is that they’re hard to hit and bounce all over the fucking place.”

To illustrate her point, one Mimic flew out from behind a crate, leaping up on top of the landing pad and disappearing from view. Another, taking advantage of the distraction, ran to the side, taking position behind one crate that was stacked atop another. With a hiss, the Mimic fired the revolver it carried, the shot impacting the wall behind Samuel. The third and final Mimic, seeking to be a lone wolf like it’s companions, also ran to the side, a route which unfortunately for it brought it within firing distance of Arthur’s shotgun.

“This way is off limits,” the Ranger said, pumping his shotgun and returning to cover.

Holly meanwhile was lining up her shot. She fired, the visible Mimic’s head snapping backwards and yanking the rest of its lanky body with it. “And they say you have bullshit aim,” she said with a grin. “Anyone see that last one?”

A thud behind her answered her question. She had time to turn around to see the Mimic aiming at her, a now reptilian face topped by a ridiculous looking cap staring back. And then a beam of red light split that face in half, Samuel’s reaction shot hitting directly on target. “Your welcome,” he said, turning back around to try and spot the Shieldbearer.

Bonnie and Alan had already moved up to try and weed him out, a task only made easier by the coughing and wheezing the ADVENT soldier was making as he attempted to escape again. A burst from Alan’s SMG slammed into his back, and he grunted. A storm of bullets hit him from Bonnie’s Minigun, and he moaned. And when the Gremlin came in to finish the job, he was silent. Lester grimaced as Lucifer confirmed the kill, closing his interface and hefting Samara back onto his shoulder. “Alright, come on,” he said reassuringly. “We’re almost out of here now.”

The prisoner didn’t believe it until she was on the landing pad, a spotlight shining in her eyes and a black rope hanging before her. She reached out for it, fumbling with her grip a few times before her hand was securely gripping the lifeline. Unwilling to let a clearly weakened person go up themselves, Lester kept a grip on her and secured himself to the line. He tugged twice, and the rope began to ascend, taking the two with it.

Back on the landing pad, the squad waited, Bonnie joining them last. “Sorry,” she said, out of breath. “I’m old, stairs don’t do me good.”

“So that’s it?” Samuel asked, looking around at the compound walls. They were still. “We’re done here?”

A loud crack denied him, a magnetically accelerated bullet flying past the Russian’s face and off into the distance. The squad was instantly on alert. “Where the fuck did that come from?!” Alan demanded, eyes darting across the walls. “Where’s that sniper at?”

“Never mind that, we’ve got no cover here!” Holly said, grabbing a smoke grenade from her belt and activating it at their feet. “Keep in the smoke! If you have to fire, move away as soon as you do, otherwise you’ll get shot.”

“What the hell is taking you all so long?” Lester demanded, his voice crackling over communications equipment. “How hard is it to grab a rope?”

“I’m not getting skewered today, thank you,” the Sharpshooter retorted. “If anyone sees him, point him out. I’ll get him.”

Beside them, the sound of jets caused the group to turn around. Outside the blanket of smoke sat a floating Hoverguard, carbine at the ready. They hovered slightly closer, trying to peer through the smoke to mark a target for their far-off friend. “Get out of here,” Samuel muttered, raising his rifle and firing, the beam piercing the unfortunate soldier’s chest and sending them careening back to the ground.

“Now move you idiot!” Bonnie barked, shoving him out of the way as another crack marked another shot, this one cutting through the smoke where Samuel had been standing. “Muzzle flash, Samuel. They’ll be looking for muzzle flash.”

“Got him!” Alan cried, pointing towards the door from which they’d entered the courtyard. To the side was a human-shaped glow, sitting still behind a crate. In the middle of the doorway was another glowing shape, though this one was face-down on the ground, a bear trap lodged in their leg and the glow fading fast. “And it looks like one of them wasn’t watching their step.”

“That shouldn’t have killed him, though,” Samuel protested. “How did he get so wounded that a bear trap would kill him?”

“Shut up, I'm trying to focus,” Holly said, taking careful aim at her target from a crouch. Even as she did so, she was conscious of the smoke around her running out, as it would after this length of time. She was well familiar with it. Timing was important for a Sharpshooter.

She fired before her rival did, hitting him directly in the head and ending his life. She grinned, standing and ejecting the spent shell with a satisfied exhale.

Bonnie shook her head. “You have way too much fun on these,” she accused, moving back towards the limp ropes hanging invitingly for them. “Or maybe I’m just getting old.”

"And to answer your question," Alan said, reaching up and grabbing his own rope. "That dead guy probably set off my IED earlier. I'm surprised he survived up to there, to be honest."

Samuel was the last to ascend, taking a moment to gaze over the cleared compound. He scowled and tugged on the rope, holding on as it brought him up to the waiting Skyranger. A feeling of anger was there, certainly. Anger at what, though? At ADVENT for not moving his father within reach? At himself for believing a rescue could be possible so quickly? At Samara for not being who he hoped she would be?

Sitting down on his seat and seeing Bonnie fussing over her washed away that last one. She’d clearly been through a lot. She didn’t deserve anything less than anyone else from him, certainly not now.

But he didn’t smile once on the way back to the Avenger. Instead he sat, lost in thought and renewed worry. His father was still out there, sitting in the ADVENT equivalent of a gulag for all he knew. Probably being tortured for information. Maybe even dead already.

Not knowing was easily the worst part.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

“Present Pain” - Atka Ipiktok

1645 Hours, June 27th, 2038
Somewhere in Greenland
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 5-6, Central Block
Command Central

Commander Atka Ipiktok stood before the hologlobe, looking over the mission report for Operation Spectral Sage again with a mildly weary look, feeling somewhat dissapointed by the reality that the VIP had not been the old Overseer. But she, unlike his adoptive son, had not held out much hope that it was him. It may still be possible to save Isaac - after all, they likely haven’t killed him yet because his is information is too valuable for that, but he question of where they’re keeping him remains. Shaking her head, Atka knew that she had to keep focused on matters that she did have power over. It’s up to his successor and Joseph to find that out; you’ve got a job to do.

“Chandra,” Atka waved her old friend over. “How’s your new patient doing?”

“Vermaak?” The Indian doctor sighed. “Most of her wounds were treatable… looks like she got a lashing or two but nothing more than the usual before a Sectoid came to invade her mind,” Chandra explained, only pausing for a moment to reflect on how odd it was that mind reading - the stuff of science fiction twenty years ago - was now so disturbingly commonplace. “She should be back to full capacity in a few days, my biokinesis can’t do anything more for her than what it’s already done. It doesn’t stick around as well as Yakone’s.”

Atka nodded slowly, the mention of the Ranger reminding her of something else on her long to-do list for today. “And the eye?”

“Can’t be helped. If I’d gotten to her maybe twenty four hours earlier, it’d be fine, but what-ifs aren’t worth shit,” the biokinetic replied.

“Fair enough. Though…” Atka pulled out her digital clipboard, hitting the back button and then bringing up XCOM’s personnel files.

“Honestly, if you’re thinking of making her a soldier I’d reconsider. A busted eye does a lot to lower someone’s combat effectiveness. And while we have that one left over from your procedure, it’s better kept for one of our existing combat staff - as callous as that sounds,” Chandra cautioned.

“You’re forgetting Saint Pierre’s class,” Atka responded, shaking her head. “Shen and I were worried it was going to be a wash, but the Juggernaut has proven to be an invaluable addition to our roster.”

“And a shield wouldn’t require 20/20 vision,” Chandra echoed. “That could work… though what about pistol marksmanship?”

“When you’re looking through the scope of an extended range rifle you only use one eye. I apply the same philosophy to steadied shots with a pistol,” Atka reminded her friend. “It doesn’t cover all situations, but we’re really in no position to turn away anyone who’s ready and willing to fight ADVENT. We don’t need more maintenance staff.”

“The ones we have are pretty effective, I’ll give them that,” Chandra remarked, glancing over at the two Italian girls working on the hologlobe’s base. The machinery had malfunctioned earlier that day - thankfully after the mission and not during it - and the two had been called up to fix it. Viviana Ricchetti smiled at the compliment and waved, while Tiziana Toloni nervously kept working.

Looking at the mechanics as well now, Atka approached the more confident Viviana. “Ricchetti. In regards to Shen, you two hang out around her correct? What was she working on today?”

Even being the more confident one, Viviana still balked a bit at being addressed by her Commander. “I-I uh… she was… pulling apart that mechanical dog thing, sir?”

“Working on the Techound, huh…” Atka rubbed her chin. Wonder if she’s trying to reverse-engineer the thing. That would fit with how she usually operates. It occured to Atka that she knew more about her Chief Engineer than she did her own daughter. I can’t escape that reality, can I? Atka frowned, and Chandra picked up on it.

“Something the matter?”

Atka shook her head, snapping back to reality. “I just need to deal with something.” She started to walk towards the antigrav lift, but paused on her way there. “Monroe!” she called out to the records keeper.

Bailey looked up from her computer, lazily asking, “...what?”

“Get off your lazy ass and add Samara Vermaak to the Combat Division if she accepts the offer as a Juggernaut. Inform Tygan that he’ll need to give her one of the PCS sets in storage and get her acquainted with them” Not that Juggernauts make heavy use of them. I should tell him to get on that too. “Got all of that?”

Bailey looking up at Atka from her notepad, back down at the notepad, and up at Atka again. “I think-”

“You think?”

“-I do.”

“Good.”

***​

1658 Hours, June 27th, 2038
Somewhere in Greenland
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 4, Central Block
Access Hallway

The Icy Liberator located the Marauding Crusader in one of the numerous access hallways running through the guts of the Avenger. Yakone was walking alongside another soldier, someone that seemed to admire her confidence and self-sacrificing nature. Atka caught the tail end of their conversation from around a corner.

“-can’t be exactly like me, you know? Me, the Grenadiers, the Juggernauts… they’re all more durable than the average bunch. You just need to support with that drone and missile of yours. We’re getting alloyed armor sooner or later anyway, and we’ve yet to take any casualties,” Yakone’s voice sounded, reassuring her companion.

“I know, I just don’t want to end up being responsible-” the other voice started.

“Don’t blame yourself. Come on, Miriam, it’s not your fault… Leon was just doing something I would have done.”

“If you say so…” Miriam responded, not fully convinced. “I just - Commander!” she exclaimed in surprise upon seeing her CO round the corner.

“I’d like to speak with your friend for a bit, if you don’t mind,” Atka said evenly to the Specialist.

“N-Not at all.” Sanchez quickly departed around the corner, leaving the two alone.

Yakone crossed her arms. “What’d I do now, huh?”

“I’m not here to punish you,” Atka began.

“Then what do you want to know exactly?”

“I’m not here to interrogate you, either,” Atka said, having to struggle to keep the edge of exasperation out of her tone. “I just want to… talk.”

“I hardly see what’s so important that my CO needs to set aside time to discuss it with me,” Yakone countered.

“Not as your CO. As… as family.” Yakone started to turn the other way, but Atka stopped her. “Yakone!” she shouted. “Listen to me, for the love of God.”

“Fine,” Yakone said with frigid venom, turning back around and meeting Atka’s frustrated gaze with a steely, angry look of her own.

“I know we haven’t gotten along in the past, and that a good deal of that is my fault…”

“You’ve got that right,” Yakone muttered audibly.

Atka trembled slightly, her ire being drawn, but she continued, “...but we can’t just… be polarized forever.”

“You sure as hell seemed to want it that way!” Yakone spat. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say here!”

“What I’m saying is that we need to try to be kinder to each other!” Atka blurted out. “Please, Yakone… we have to at least try…”

Yakone turned her head away from her mother. “So… So what? So we can fail, and feel even more miserable than we already do? I don’t need more bad memories.”

Atka stepped forward cautiously. “You don’t know that it will end that way. We’re both…” Charon’s words echoed in her head. “We’re both lying to ourselves if we think there’s no chance in hell we can save our relationship.”

“There isn’t one to begin with.”

“I have often thought the same, but…” Atka gingerly laid a hand on Yakone’s shoulder.

Yakone batted it away. “Don’t touch me. You’ve got to be… drunk or something. This isn’t you, this is just a lie… a way to manipulate me!”

“Don’t be absurd, I’m not…!”

“Shut up! Leave me alone!” Yakone shouted before rushing past Atka.

The Commander swiveled around. “Yakone! Get back here!” she demanded, holding out a hand, but the Ranger did not stop running. Slowly, Atka lowered it, letting out a bitter sigh. “You were wrong, Charon… some things can’t be fixed.”

 

[BMPixy]

BMPixy and DarkGemini24601: “Train Wreck”

1218 Hours, June 28th, 2038
Somewhere in Greenland
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 4, Central Block
Access Hallway

Músculos… tensos… José groaned internally as he slowly made his way down the hallway, the stack of boxes he carried in his arms reaching precariously above the Ambusher’s head. Why does la jefe need so many power drills? he added to his internal monologue as he carefully, painstakingly began to prepare for the process of turning a corner in his current predicament. “A little more..” the Mexican muttered as he edged around the corner with all the caution he could muster.

It all was for naught. Without any warning, a tall figure slammed into his gingerly-balanced collection of crates, causing them to all tumble down - nearly flattening the person in the process. Quite a few slammed against the young woman, causing her to grimace and briefly be surrounded by a field of emerald green energy. From the glancing hit of a power drill that would have scratched her, that proved to be a wise choice by Yakone. Her eyes burning in anger, she grabbed the offending device and held it in Jose’s face. “You trying to kill me with this load of shit, asshole?!” she snapped.

“Lo siento lo siento lo siento!” José rapidly stammered in apology, lowering his head in supplication at the Inuit’s wrath - before noticing just how scattered the boxes ended up, and he quickly moved to gather them up once again and retrieve any of the drills that had escaped their confines. “Once again, lo siento, I did not see you there, señorita!” he apologized, once more for good measure.

Yakone tensed as if to lash out, but seemed to at last register how silly she was being and sighed. “Damn… it’s fine… probably…” she had to grit her teeth to admit “...my fault anyway. Was in too much of a rush.”

“Do not worry, it shall not hap- espere, ‘your fault’?” José paused, a power drill ready to be returned to its container as his mind caught up with reality. “Oh. Are you certain about that?” he said, caught off guard by the turn of events.

“Um… I’m pretty sure our relative velocity to an onlooker would be in the direction I was dashing, not in the direction you were tiptoeing from what I caught in the split second before we collided,” Yakone clarified.

“Sí, sí, I suppose that is so,” José answered after a brief moment. “Should… should I be the one angry then? Not used to this, pardon me.”

Yakone shrugged. “I dunno, maybe… but how about I help you with this stuff and then buy you a drink as recompense?”

“I- ah,” José hesitated for a moment, thinking as he put the second to last drill back into its box. “I would be thankful for the first, at least. Second seems - an excess, suppose. Still, would be very much thankful, especially since you have the last drill,” the Ambusher said, gesturing to the drill in question.

Yakone looked at it and chuckled, putting it away and hefting some of the boxes. “Not like we actually pay for the drinks anyway.”

“Lessens value of gesture, but appreciate it despite that,” José answered, taking the remainder of the boxes, his muscles glad to not be under so much strain. “Failed to introduce myself - I am José. Would shake hand, but, well… you see.”

“That’s fine. I’m Yakone,” the Ranger responded, starting to move the boxes she had towards their destination. “Lily really wants to take apart those Techounds doesn’t she…”

“It has been mentioned once or twice. Maybe many times more, but would be rude to say that,” José replied, following alongside Yakone - whilst mentally filing away any questions as to whether she was that Yakone. “I just carry stuff and hold things when needed, so I shall not say much more.”

Yakone sighed. “If you’re mentioning what I think you are you’re right, but thank you for not bugging me about it… I want nothing to do with family right now.”

“There is no sense in someone who knows nothing trying to say something, in my opinion,” José said. “Only brings trouble.”

“Tell that to my mother,” Yakone muttered under her breath. “Sound advice,” she said more clearly to José.

“I am sometimes told I have high amounts of it,” José replied noncommittally. “But then the pregunta becomes is that the advice you need now? Not to pry, of course.”

“Not really, it’s her that’s trying to fix something that can’t be fixed,” Yakone responded with a shake of her head. “She’s stirring up trouble where there isn’t any.”

“I apologize in advance for asking this,” José began as the two turned a corner, “but is incapable of being fixed because it can’t be fixed, or it won’t be fixed?”

“I don’t know, pick one,” Yakone responded noncommittally. “The point is, I’m not going to kid myself and end up with more heartbreak. I made plenty of attempts at us being family and none of them ever worked.”

“Well, I will say no more on this,” José replied. “After all, I cannot know your situation - my family was held together by love. I cannot make comments on those who were not so blessed by God.”

“I don’t think many people are these days… making things better is up to us.” The two arrived in Engineering, and Yakone started setting down boxes for her friend. “Not to sound as pessimistic about us. My mother’s way closer to fatalistic… I kind of doubt she even does that much praying anymore.”

“There are always those that have their faith buckle under the weight of His tests,” José replied simply as he set down the boxes, signaling to an engineer whose name the Ambusher could never remember that the boxes were here. “But as long as they don’t stop working on attaining heaven, it does not matter in His eyes. Anyways, drinks, you said earlier?”

Yakone nodded. “Let’s go get some spirits.” She jogged off for the bar, getting a beer for herself and whatever Jose wanted for him.

José was along a few moments later, almost collapsing into his seat. “You certainly… move fast,” the Mexican muttered, slightly out of breath. “Really need to get bulking up more,” he added, as the bartender slid him his Long Island Iced Tea. “Ah, wonderful,” he said, taking a long draught from the drink.

“Interesting choice, didn’t think you were familiar with a lot of things American,” Yakone noted.

“There was an American influx into Tijuana shortly before the nukes fell on California,” José explained. “They… stayed, for lack of a better term, and mingled into society. I believe my sister Esmeralda’s father was American, too, from what I heard. Regardless, learned of this drink from the gringos, and came to enjoy it.”

“Huh… and hey, that term’s offensive if I remember anything from La Paz,” Yakone said jokingly, drinking from her beer can.

“Well, if we start pouring across their border looking for jobs, then I’ll consider stopping,” José answered with a shrug and another sip of his drink. “Until then, things are as they are.”

“Anyone working for the resistance is cool in my books,” Yakone stated with a shrug. “And almost all the Shanties fly our banners when they can, so…”

“Mind spelling out your meaning for me?” José asked, arching an eyebrow curiously.

“Race doesn’t matter when we have a common cause,” Yakone specified.

“Ah, right, right,” José said, nodding. “Sorry, did not mean to er, implicado that I was, y’know…” the Mexican replied, scratching at his scar idly.

“Was just making sure,” Yakone responded. “We’ve got to all work together, any doubt in the heat of battle can be bad news.”

“Well, we shall worry about that once I enter the kitchen then,” José replied, taking a gulp of his drink. “But would be good not to worry either way, can suppose.” Taking a moment to pause, the Ambusher added, “That made more sense in thought than in speech.”

“I’ll let it slide and blame the alcohol,” Yakone responded with a grin, downing some more of her drink.

“Yes, yes, that would be bueno,” José said, shaking his head idly.

Yakone chuckled, holding up her glass. “To cooperation, I guess.”

“To cooperación,” José agreed, adding his drink to the toast.

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Power Creep, Part 1

Location Unknown
3:00 PM, June 28th, 2038


“Punctual, aren’t you?” Isaac asked, glancing at the simple clock on the wall. It was always three in the afternoon when the Inquisitor arrived.

I find keeping to schedules helps me think, the Elder replied, breezing forward until he had reached the table at which Isaac was seated. How have you been since last week?

The Judge turned his mouth downward. “Absolutely spiffing,” he remarked sarcastically. “Couldn’t be any better.”

Azazel tilted his head slightly, a comical movement with the size of his mask. Now, what’s brought this on? Your attitude is significantly more venomous than our last session.

“I just spent over a month in an ADVENT prison. Hardly a cause to celebrate life.”

You are alive, the Elder pointed out.

“Until you’re done with me. In the meantime I sit in my cell, brought out for my weekly interview, but otherwise doing fuck all.” The prisoner shook his head and forced himself to relax his body. “Whatever. Point is, I’m at your mercy. And I hate being at someone’s mercy.”

Azazel paused. Then allow me to demonstrate to you that placing yourself in this position was not for nothing, at least in your opinion. He turned to the ADVENT trooper standing nearby and nodded, the trooper saluting and exiting the room briefly.

Isaac raised an eyebrow. “You want some one-on-one time?” he asked.

You misunderstand, the Inquisitor stated. He will return. Sure enough, the trooper did return alongside a Sectoid Guru, both wheeling in a crude TV screen. Once the screen was in place, the Guru hissed at their assistant, causing him to shrink back while they pressed a button on a control.

The screen flashed, and then began rolling tape from the top corner of a room, within which several cells (of which only one seemed occupied) sat, a Muton, Sectoid and Viper guarding them. After investigating the recently opened door, the trio were surprised by a single human resistance soldier walking in, prompting them to retreat and cover said retreat with a flammable explosive. The Viper, using the resulting smoke as cover, slithered to the other side of the room, leaving her companions to burn.

“What’s the purpose of this?” Isaac asked.


You will see.

The Viper, apparently spotting a target outside the camera’s view, lunged forward with her tongue, fishing back another human. Even with the quality of the footage, Isaac’s hands tightened their grip on the sides of his chair. “Is that…?”

Your son, the Elder confirmed. He was recently spotted among a band of Resistance fighters attempting to liberate a fellow traitor. He bowed his head as Samuel could be seen blasting the underside of the Viper’s mouth with a shotgun, as if disappointed in the performance. There were no casualties on their side. All escaped, taking the time to clean the building of ADVENT forces before departing.

“So he went and joined the Resistance?” The Judge was perplexed. “What the hell for?”

I cannot presume to know his mind, Azazel stated, turning around. I merely present the facts. The fact here is that through your preoccupying me, he has most certainly escaped our grasp. Which I suspect was your plan all along.

Isaac raised his hands, palms upward. “You got me,” he said. “Add that to my list of crimes.”

The Elder turned to the Guru. You may leave, he stated. Bizarrely, the Sectoid shook it’s head. What? Why?

The Guru continued glaring at Azazel for a few moments more, a strange exchange of silence Isaac assumed was simply a conversation that was not being shared with him. Eventually, the Inquisitor relented. … very well. You may remain, but I insist once again that I am perfectly capable of handling any dangerous prisoners.

The prisoner folded his arms. “What, don’t you people trust me?”

It less a case of trusting you, and more a case of trusting me. Specifically my ability to defend myself, the Elder explained. Up until now my superiors have been content with allowing me to conduct this investigation my way. It would seem, however, that I have been overruled. He turned back to the Guru. Would you like to be seated? There is a spare chair here.

The Guru shook it’s head and instead leaned against the wall, relaxing. “Why is that chair even there?” Isaac asked, indicating the one across from him. “You never use it. Which in itself is a good question. Why don’t you use it?”

Azazel watched him for a moment before turning away and beginning a pacing movement. I believe it is time we began today’s session, he stated, avoiding the question. Last week we finished going over your history, as it were. Today I would like to start with more recent events.

The prisoner grimaced. “Like?”

The Overseer, Azazel said. I would like you to tell me who they are.

“I can tell you who I gave it to,” Isaac said. “But people can be cutthroat assholes. In my absence it’s entirely possible they’ve been usurped in the meantime.”

Then tell me who it was to the last of your knowledge.

Such was most of their conversations. A question would be asked that Isaac really did not wish to answer, and he would attempt to brush it off. Azazel would persist, and eventually he’d need to give in. He’d already tried lying once. The Inquisitor had immediately detected the falsehood and given him a single chance to repeal the statement, else the effectiveness of their ‘sessions’ would be deemed less useful, until someone eventually decided that torture would be a far more efficient method. The threat of that method was enough to keep him talking, Isaac knew. And the idea sickened him. It was weak of him to just give up such knowledge in the face of torture.

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Part 2


He swallowed. “You wouldn’t know her,” he said at last. “Rather normal person on most records. Dig deep enough and you uncover some rather interesting medical reports, but I deleted them as I came across them. To your records, she’d just be an ordinary civilian.”

But one outside our jurisdiction, Azazel stated. Otherwise she would never have come into contact with you. You speak of records, which indicates to me that this woman was around prior to the Liberation.

“Yeah,” Isaac said, shrugging. “The name she gave me was Chloe Petit. Later admitted it was fake name, but refused to give me her real one.”

And yet you trusted her enough to pass on your role as Overseer to her? The Elder seemed surprised by the notion. A… curious level of trust you had to do that without knowing her real name.

Isaac pointed at the Sectoid Guru, which peeled its mouth back slightly in passive threat. “He know your real name?” At the trooper. “Him?”

Azazel paused for a moment. Touche, he said.

“Trust ceased becoming an issue after a while,” the prisoner continued. “She showed up right after you guys started raining hell down on the planet. A refugee. She proved useful, so when I started moving around, I took her with me.”

Describe your relationship with her.

Isaac narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t have any relations with her beyond platonic ones,” he said firmly. “Samuel did, but that’s another story.”

And a largely unnecessary one, the Inquisitor stated.

“Then why the hell did you ask?” the prisoner asked, irritated.

Azazel considered his answer. You are of course aware that this is a clandestine facility? he said. And that any attempt to break into this place would be a stupid move at best?

“I’m aware.”

The Elder shrugged. I’ve noticed humans have a tendency to do stupid things when it comes to romantics. A pity in that it means she will not likely attempt to recapture you herself, thus enabling us to snare her too, but good news in that we won’t need to weather a hastily arranged attack. Assuming they even find you.

“You asked me so that you’d know if she’d try to break in here?” Isaac shook his head. “You clearly don’t know her. She’s flighty, bit too lighthearted, but not brash to the point of foolishness. Regardless of what I was to her, she’d very carefully think out any attack on this place, mark my words.”

Consider them marked, Azazel acknowledged. And from what you’ve told me of your Resistance’s leadership, I doubt they’d be hasty either. He turned to the trooper. Do you have the picture? he asked.

The trooper nodded and procured a small device, holding it before Isaac’s face. On the screen was an image of an African woman, a gash running up her left cheek and through her eye. Do you know this woman? the Inquisitor asked, gaze intent on his prisoner.

Isaac frowned. “I think so,” he said, “although last time I saw her she didn’t have that huge slice up her face.”

I am told that was an unfortunate side-effect of her capture, Azazel explained. How do you know her?

“She was one of the operatives coming in when I gave the position to Chloe,” the prisoner said. “Samara, I think? Had a few weeks where she worked for me. People usually called her ‘Cobra’, if I recall correctly.” His brow furrowed. “Or… or was that the guy with the cigar…”

So she was an operative of your Overseer, Azazel surmised. That means… Hmm.

“You said she was captured. As I remember, she was the kind of person that’d shoot themselves in the head before letting themselves be caught.” He leaned forward slightly. “How did you catch her? And why was arrested?”

The Elder shrugged. I am told she was snooping around one of our facilities. Which one was… not disclosed to me. Nor was the reason for her priority shipping.

“Your bosses didn’t tell you what she found out?”

She was never part of my investigation, Azazel replied evenly. And it is hardly necessary that I know everything the Protectorate does.

Even an Ethereal isn’t privy to the details? Well well. Isaac scratched his chin. “That seems a little… y’know. Suspicious.”

Beside him, the Sectoid made a chattering noise. What now? the Inquisitor asked, evidently displeased at the interruption. After a short time of silence, he nodded. I see. I apologize, Mr. Anderson, but I will need to cut this session off here. We will resume next week.

“Same bat time, same bat channel, yeah?”

The Elder ignored him, exiting the room with a swish of his robes and a shuffle of feet.

As he was being led back to his cell, a perplexing thought struck Isaac. A shuffle of feet. When Azazel had left, it had sounded suspiciously like he was walking. Probably barefoot, at that. What on earth for, when previous encounters with his species had all been of the floating kind? Had he been doing that the whole time without Isaac noticing?

The cell door closed behind him, and he sighed. “Bloody hell, this place really is boring,” he muttered.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

Richard Smith sat in darkness. Dried blood still caked the side of his head, a reminder of the blow from the STun Lancer that had rendered him unconscious. He had been visited by an ADVENT interrogator briefly, but he had refused to talk. The bruises forming on his chest attested to the reprisal for his defiance. He was steely in his composure though. Thanks to one of his fellow freedom-fighters he had resisted the Sectoid mind-reader that came a few hours after the first questioner.

Suddenly, the American’s eyes were blasted with light. He blinked rapidly. As his vision began to refocus, he took in the third interrogator. An ADVENT Officer? Perhaps, but that didn’t seem quite right. She was clad in the red and black of a Coalition Officer, the former being prominent on shoulderpads, kneepads, boots, gloves, and a helmet. But all of those pieces were rounded and streamlined, the helmet in particular looking to be a more elegant form of a Stun Lancer helm. It covered the Stun Officer’s face completely though, masking their features. And this faceless hybrid soldier spoke thus:

“Richard Smith. Registered as a potential terrorist, confirmed in a clash with the illegitimate force known as the United States Marines when there were leaving a meeting with another illegal organization known as the South Marauders,” a cold voice intoned from speakers on the sides of the helmet like a glaciated stereo system. “You have refused to answer inquiries pertaining to either group, and resisted the truthseeker that visited you.” The ADVENT soldier stepped forward with a few mechanical footfalls. “Who is the psion among the Resistance that gave you mind shielding?”

David nearly paled and gave his following lie away, but managed to keep his cool. “No idea what you’re talking about. Those Sectoids must just be losing their touch these days.”

“So be it,” the ADVENT interrogator replied. “Shall I pry the information from you?” she asked neutrally.

“You don’t scare me,” David spat. “Just another small fry that thinks they can-” the Marine was interrupted by a tightening feeling in his guts.

“I have full authority to do whatever is necessary to ascertain the truth from you,” the woman replied. “Thus, by the power vested in me, I, Major Blukersey, will allow you a chance to repent and tell me everything. Your sentence will be light if you speak willingly.”

“To hell… with you tyrants…” was the strangled response.

Major Blukersey didn’t even bother sighing. Instead, the bluegreen blow that was forming around one of her gauntlets intensified and began to spin. David felt his heartbeat begin to become irregular as if he were having a heart attack. His lungs tightened as if seized by asthma. His kidneys clenched up, stones forming and causing him intense pain. He screamed a plea for her to stop, but she continued her torture. The Marine’s eyes felt like they were being crushed, and his nerves felt as if they were being incinerated as Blukersey pressed a metal-covered palm directly on his forehead.

Finally, after an eternity of pain - the Major removed her hand and dismissed the psionic glow over it. “Now, will you speak to end this cycle of misery?” Silence was the only defiance David - sweat covering his skin and horror defining his features - could offer.

It only took two more sessions before Blukersey knew everything.

North American Continent
Former United States of America
Specifically, Oklahoma State
Boomertown, June 30th , 2038
0921 Hours, Local Time

Situated in the ruins of what had once been a college campus, the Shantytown dubbed “Boomertown” after the Boomer Sooners that had once played in the football stadium that served as the town’s hub was alive with activity. It was the morning, and particularly in the market circle of the old football stadium people were moving back and forth between shacks on the ground and strung together between the stands buying and selling, or more accurately trading. They lived by the old rules of family ties and trade agreements, and the town prospered outside of ADVENT’s reach.

Then, in the darkening skies that the shoppers were rushing to beat - trying to get their morning activities in before it started raining - ADVENT Dropships appeared. With screams of horror, the citizenry began to duck for cover as the doors opened. Magnetic rounds ripped through support beams, collapsing some of them and crushing a civilian or two beneath. Boots began to hit the ground one by one, and as the numbers of ADVENT soldiers on the ground decreased, the numbers of civilians deceased.

Amidst the chaos, a few sleek blue-violet dropships made their appearance as well. A few of them diverted to the campus grounds, and began unloading a host of red-violet insectoids. The Chryssalids had a single purpose that they began to carry out with brutal efficiency - breed. They killed civilians in droves, and implanted them with cocooning venom to spawn more of their kind. Resistance Fighters began to pour out of hiding places to defend the citizens of Boomertown.

But ADVENT and the Protectorate knew the South Marauders were in collusion with this particular Shantytown. And to prevent them from stopping the Chryssalids, robotic units such as Assault Drones and Floaters began raining death in the form of pulse lasers upon the defenders of humanity. All the while, the last two dropships sent elite troops to help mop up the Marauders in the stadium area.

***​

Searching for a target in particular, a pair of Troopers and an Officer kicked down the door to one of the shacks. There, they found a family cowering in terror - a father, mother, and two children. The screams of the dying being impaled by Stun Lancers and the roaring of buildings being set on fire by a Scorcher surrounded the small structure.

“Please… please don’t… we haven’t done anything wrong…” the father pleaded. “If you must take anyone, take me.”

The Officer glanced between the crying children and their mother trying to be brave and shield then, and his two subordinates.”The͘ ́p͏şion̵ i͠sn't ́h̕e̶re. ͠K͢il͡l ̡th̶em̧,"̵ he instructed before moving on.

The Trooper to the left raised his rifle. He stared into the eyes of the four civilians, and his hands shook from the horror and revulsion he was faced with. “I͝-҉̢I̢’͘m ̢̛ń͜o̡t͡ ̵śur҉͟e̸…̵̛͞” he protested.

The other ADVENT soldier shook her head, and pulled up his own rifle. She rested his finger on the the trigger, and screams of terror and remorse sounded for only a second before being replaced by the sounds of magnetically-accelerated rounds ripping through human flesh, and then deathly silence. “T̡h͘à̢̧t̨̢’̶̕ş̶̀ ̴h̵̛o̸w̕ ̨it҉’s͞͏ ͞do̡͠͞ǹe,” she told her partner before turning to catch up with her CO.

***​

Atka’s weekly checkup on the various Resistance cells XCOM was in contact with was not met with a pleasant surprise. “The Shantytown housing the South Marauders is under attack? How bad is it?”

“R-Really bad,” the frightened voice of ‘Bronze Cub’ came through the hologlobe’s comms. “There’s alien troops here as well, Chryssalids even… they’re slaughtered us! We need your help Commander!”

“They’re trying to send a message,” Atka said grimly. “And they’re after you too, I’m sure of it! Lay low, please, we’ll be on our way this instant.” The Commander looked to Bradford. “We need a strike team. Ten minutes ago.”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

XCOM Mission Parameters

Operation Crimson Visitor
Retaliation: Terror Site
1015 Hours, June 30th, 2038

North American Continent
United States of America
Shantytown “Boomertown”

XCOM Forces

Menace 1-5

Alpha Team

**Cmdr Ipiktok, Atka [Ambusher]
SQ Espina, Carlos [Sharpshooter]
SQ Imahara, Grant [Specialist]
SQ Van Dam, Luke [Grenadier]
SQ Nunez III, José [Ambusher]
SQ Winslow, Russell [Juggernaut]

Beta Team

*Ctrl Officer Bradford, William [Trooper]
SQ Belle, Stacie [Sharpshooter]
SQ Ipiktok, Yakone [Ranger]
SQ Tvarnov, Marx [Ranger]
SQ Sanchez, Miriam [Specialist]
SQ De Saint Pierre, Gwendoline [Juggernaut]

Gear
Lethal Grenades: AP, HE, CU, AT, Viper, Incendiary
Utility Grenades: SP, TG, Flashbang, Smoke, Rebuff
Miscellaneous Items: Medkit, Battlescanner, Combat Knife, Radio Jammer
Class Specific: Bear / Spike / IED Trap [Ambusher], Micro Missile Cluster [Specialist]

Mission Briefing

ADVENT has discovered a Shantytown housing part of a resistance cell, and now both the South Marauders and the civilians that had placed their faith in them are under attack. This is something completely new. The Coalition has suppressed rebellious Shanties in the past, but never on this scale. Their goal seems clear: total slaughter of all humans in Boomertown. They’re showing no mercy to man, woman, or child, and we have to stop this tragedy before more innocent lives are lost.

This doesn’t seem directly related to XCOM’s actions. While we’ve emboldened the resistance, we’re not the target. Because of that, we have a chance at actually stopping this assault since they won’t necessarily be expecting us. However, to counter something of this scale we’ll need to send more than the Skyranger is capable of carrying. The Avenger will be landing a safe distance away, and Alpha Team will be taking a jeep alongside some of the Marauders from outside of town to begin their mission.

This is not a defense, however. ADVENT will attack again if we repel them now. We need to evacuate this Resistance Haven, and fast.

Objectives:

1. Temporarily secure the Shantytown so we can evacuate the civilian populace.
2. Protect and rescue as many civilians as possible.

Hazards:

Thunderstorm - Dark clouds have gathered over the morning sky. While the lightning is mostly cloud-to-cloud, and the Skyranger is adequately shielded, electrical disruptions could disrupt her cloak. She will have to remain cautious, and visibility for both sides will be lowered from the lower light, gentle breeze, and light rain.

Terrain:

Alpha Team will be going among the old campus buildings where the civilian populance lives. Their mission is to secure the perimeter to prevent ADVENT reinforcements from disrupting the evacuation.

Beta Team will be going into the other part of the Shanty: the Sooner Stadium. The other half of the civilians can be found in a composite tenement, market, and governmental center. They will have to secure this area to cover the other part of the retreat.

Civilians:

Several hundred civilian targets. We will not be able to save them all, and some have already been killed. Nevertheless Menace 1-5 must make every effort to rescue who is left, both for common decency and the morale of the Resistance.

Enemies:

Intel is very spotty. Varied ADVENT troops will be present, but a good portion of them are off fighting the Marauders who are pinned down but covering us as best they can. We’ve gotten reports of alien troops alongside them infiltrating the Stadium. And the more savage forces in the alien arsenal are slaughtering civilians in the perimeter area.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

BMPixy, Dahlexpert, and DarkGemini24601, “Operation Crimson Visitor, Part 1”

Alpha Team

The thunder rumbled from the heavens as a small collection of pre-invasion motor vehicles rolled across the Oklahoma plains. There were seven in total. Three motorcycles, an ATV, a truck, and two jeeps. In the other vehicles, reinforcements from the southerly United States resistance group “The South Marauders” were heading in, but with them in the jeeps were six XCOM operatives. In one of the two military vehicles was Atka Ipiktok, Jose Nunez, and Grant Imahara. In the other as Russell Winslow, Luke Van Dam, and Carlos Espina.

Atka looked over her beam laser weapon, checking to make sure the anti-tank rifle was ready one last time. Over squad comms she made a final note. “Nunez, Espina, don’t do anything too crazy. Let the four of us that have gotten recent field experience figure things out.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, Commander, only crazy thing I’ve done recently is join up, don’t plan on much else,” Espina answered over comms. José, on the other hand, merely nodded in response to the order, eyes flickering between his weapons and the slowly worsening weather.

“Approaching now,” one of the motorcyclist resistance fighters called out. The football stadium and college campus started to come into view, being the more intact structures in the otherwise deserted settlement. Yet even so, there was faint fires where the rain could not quite quench them, and the sound of gunfire - both magnetic and conventional. Veering to the left, the convoy came to a stop in front of broken gates around the campus, and the resistance troops got out alongside XCOM’s squad.

“Stay behind us. Focus on covering civilians and their retreat,” Atka told the group of Marauders before starting to advance. Alpha Team soon ran into enemies. A group of ADVENT forces - surprisingly skittish - were in the process of shooting up a shack where presumably civilians were hiding. Atka quickly assessed their strength. Two Gunners, a Hoverguard, a Trooper, and an Officer. The Commander targeted their leader, and a laser shot bit straight into his helmet, dropping him to the ground. The other four scattered, all but the Hoverguard moving towards the XCOM squad rather than away from them, and opening fire.

“Well aren't you bold.” Luke pulled out his truncated Shotgun and started to fire at the hovering guard, and do to his new shredder ammo, started to destroy the Hoverguard’s armor. Once the Grenadier penetrated his armor, Luke used his pyrokinesis to set him on fire. Forcing the flying enemy to fall back. “I love this new ammo I have.” Luke said before getting to cover

Having already found cover behind the blasted out remnants of a wall - still sporting faded posters of old movies - José was rather glad for the Grenadier’s aggressiveness, allowing him to briefly slip out of notice of the ADVENT troopers. With a muttered prayer, the Ambusher raised his arc rifle at one of the gunners, who was stepping out from cover to begin unloading his weapon at the XCOM troopers. A quick squeeze of the arc rifle’s trigger sent a bolt of electricity lancing out, slightly off target but close enough to still strike the gunner’s weapon, causing it to short out in a burst of sparks as the electricity overloaded the mag cannon.

Grant was there to finish the electrified Advent soldier off. He clicked a button on his wrist control, and the Gremlin darted forward in an upwards aerial arc before coming down on the Gunner and firing off its shiny new disruptor cannon. The electric shock combined with that from the weapon feedback was enough to knock the man unconscious. As for the other Gunner, Russell took the initiative to swap to his Beam Rifle after placing his shield down as cover for himself, and nearly killed the ADVENT soldier with his shot. Atka finished him off with a shot from her rotator.

Left with only a burning flying ally left, the Trooper should have run. But instead, he kamikazed forward and was quickly shot down by fire from the Marauders in the back. His ally finally swooped downwards and was no more. “Why didn’t he retreat?” Atka muttered to herself. “Unless we’re near…” Her suspicions were confirmed as there was a reverberating howl, and then the skittering of claws against concrete. “We’ve got Chryssalids incoming!”

From atop one of the unstable roofs, a pack of four of the alien terrors appeared. They sighted human prey and leapt off the ceiling. One of them didn’t make it to the ground, though it certainly almost did. A grazing hit from Grant barely scratched it, and even a direct hit from Russell only did minor damage. It took Atka’s armor-piercing laser to finally bring down just one, and the other three charged with abandon towards the squad of six.

Knowing he didn’t have much time to take the chance with a bullet against the ‘lids, José decided that one of the other tools at his disposal would have to do. Quickly unspooling line from his RC and tying it to a drainpipe, the Mexican ordered the car forward, racing across the ground in front of the charging insectoids, the nearly invisible line of high tension cable trailing behind it. Just as the car wrapped the other end around a small pillar, the lead Chryssalid impacted the wire, sending it sprawling across the floor in a mess of tangled limbs - catching the one just behind it in the tumble as well as it failed to dodge its fallen broodmate.

The one that was able to avoid the trap leapt over it, and went for an attack on José - only to be blocked by the shield of Russell. Claws scraped against alloy and ripped off some paint, but could not breach the defender shield of the Juggernaut. Russell tried for a follow-up shot, but even the double rounds of his defender pistol didn’t bite through the creature’s armor.

Atka was able to remedy the situation, shooting a web of cable from her secondary weapon to temporarily down the third insectoid and prevent subsequent attacks from it. “Light em up!” she ordered her soldiers and the resistance fighters behind them, having the team unload into the murderous creatures before they could recover. Volume of fire proved to be enough, as one fell to another shot from Atka, a second to the combined firepower of the Marauder team, and a third to a double-team from Luke and Carlos.

“That… that went well,” José murmured, recovering his RC and hooking it back into its holder. “But… I am told by the gut that it may not stay that way,” he added, making sure his arc rifle had plenty of charge.

Luke looked at the dead chryssalids, then turned to the commanders “More enemies from the past, or is this some new alien type?”

“I’ve met these things before. Their armor’s tougher now though. ” Atka replied, kicking one of the corpses with her revolver held out cautiously. “They explain why those ADVENT forces were so freaked out. Chryssalids are an uncontrollable force. If the alien’s tactics haven’t changed, they’ll be accompanied by flying units but nothing else.” With that in mind she came up with an advance plan. “Russell, take point. Jose and I will protect you from excess bugs. Carlos, Luke, and Grant, be on the lookout for fliers, and take them down so they can’t complicate things.”

The Juggernaut that would be the vanguard nodded and kept his shield raised, simply putting his pistol away in light of how useless it had proven to be. The squad began to advance, and Atka was again right as a pair of alien assault drones appeared escorting a mechanical Floater. The three robots chose to remain where they were and simply open fire. While the drones missed, they lit up José and Atka with holographic targeting indicators. The Floater’s shot went wild.

Atka dived into cover, and spotted through a broken glass window to her right that there were three more chryssalids approaching from that direction. “Trio of bugs to the right. Going to slow them down, take out those fliers.” She sent out her own RCs to set up a tripwire along the path the bugs would take, and was grateful that they were side by side rather than in a congo line as they were all tripped.

“Thanks for the targets commander.” Luke loaded his grenade launcher and launched a AP grenade at the trio of chryssalids damaging all three of them. “And since there a primary target, best kill them quickly.” Luke used his fire cracker power to wither away the trio of chryssalids killing all three of them. Luke took a knee having used so much of his power, and then got to cover to rest.