RP XCOM2: Liberation of Earth

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and MarineAvenger: “Smash and Grab, Part 1”

0810 Hours, July 6th, 2038
Colombian Rainforest
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 3, Rear Block
The Armory

Chief Engineer An-Yi Shen looked over the Armory’s walls, its newest additions bringing her both satisfaction and pride. In place of ballistic extended-range rifles and ballistic shotguns were now laser variants of those weapons: the Laser Strike Rifle, Laser Sniper Rifle, Scatterlaser, and Shortened Scatterlaser, to be more precise. Aside from machine guns - which the original X-COM had found to have severe cooling issues and not really provide much of an edge over their magazine-fed counterparts, the entire arsenal of the Extraterrestrial Combat Unit was now outfitted with the sleek black beam laser weapons. But wait, there’s more, Lily thought to herself with a grin. Before she could pursue the other additions to the chamber, the door to the side opened.

The Marauding Crusader strode in with Christine “Survivor” Kohler following behind her less boldly. The two stepped to the side slightly to admit the rest of the soldiers that had been called down to the Armory to prepare for an operation - the details of which they’d be briefed on during their flight to the AO - which included Carlos Espina, Olivia Brown, Cornelia Cruz, Russell Winslow, and Leon Sinclair. The Canadian Grenadier would be leading this operation as his second experience as a leader.

Yakone’s eyes widened as she took in the other supplement to the Armory. She had already worked on the precision lasers firsthand so they were nothing new to her. The freshly-made suits of armor, however, were a sight to see. “Holy shit… so the plated armor’s finally ready?” the Ranger noted with a growing smile. “I recognize the Predator Armor from the early concepts I saw from Rob-er-Tygan, but what are the other things?”

“The lighter armor is called the Spider Suit. It’s built for flexibility and agility, and also comes with a grappling hook that can support the weight of even the burliest of our soldiers,” Lily introduced the first of the deviant designs. “The heavier armor’s my personal baby: the E.X.O. Suit.”

Yakone started to raise her hand. “You said that like an acronym, what does it stand-”

An-Yi seemed to ignore her, and went on. “The basic design is enhanced to give the wielder greater speed and strength, which translates into enhanced mobility and accuracy. Unlike the Spider Suit it doesn’t let you be too agile though, so…” she glanced at Yakone. “As cool as it might sound for you to have enhanced strength, it may not work too well for a Ranger.”

The Inuit-Caucasian woman sighed. “Fine, fine, I’ll stick with the Predator Armor then.”

“There’s one other addition, but if she makes it I’d like to let her see it first,” Lily added vaguely, her eyes drifting back over to the door. Wonder if Chandra’ll actually let her out to check out the new equipment or not…

Almost as if on que, the door indeed opened up, moments later the French Juggernaut stepped into the armory assisted by a cane she was given by the Indian medic in order to make walking easier with her back, which was steadily getting better. However there was something more there. A slight adjustment to how she walked straighter, her shoulders a bit broader and her chin up. She didn’t look like a walking corpse for once. “So Lily… is it true that it is ready?” Gwen asked, excitement prevalent which made Leon smile from the line of soldiers.

Lily smirked, though inwardly had a more soft relief that Gwen was doing better. “Yep, it’s ready.” The Chief went over to a heavy box towards the back of the Armory, and pressed down on a latch with her shoe that opened up the container. Within were three brand-new shields meant to succeed the Defender Shields and then some. Whereas the prototype hybrid-alloy bulwark and the raw alien alloy version had been one durable piece that was still inevitably bound to be shattered by enemy fire, this new version was a composite design.

“This is the Plated Shield,” Shen introduced the sturdy aegis comprised of interlocked plates. “It’s capable of taking a lot more punishment now, since even if a shot punches through one plate the integrity of the others is not compromised. It still won’t save you completely from the high-powered weapons of our enemies, but it’ll last our Juggernauts a lot longer that the Defender Shield.”

Gwen let out a slight squeak as she went over and looked over the defensive item, running a hand across it as she placed a hand on Lily’s shoulder. “You outdo yourself time and time again An-Yi.” She said as as a compliment, looking back over her shoulder at Winslow. “I must say, if I wasn’t still recovering I would kick your ass back out that door and don the armor myself. Better put this shield design to good use.”

The former police officer nodded with a mild chuckle, taking a Plated Shield for himself. “I will,” the British man promised. The others went to don their new armor. Carlos chose a Spider Suit, preferring a long-distance sniper role to a close-up gunslinger after being in far too tight quarters with a Hover SHIV. Olivia chose the same for a different reason, being more about stealth than damage tolerance. Christine and Leon went for the Predator Armor, while Cornelia and Russell bulked up with E.X.O. Suits. Lily herself donned an E.X.O Suit as well.

Yakone glanced over at her best friend. “Um… why are you?”

“Because I’m coming, stupid,” An-Yi responded, tapping her wristpad control and having ROV-R land on a special port on the back of her armor that served as a docking station.

“Again, why?”

“Well, first of all this shouldn’t be an operation against anything too nasty. We’re helping the Resistance liberate some equipment from an outpost, and taking the more complex stuff they can’t use for ourselves,” Lily explained. “And second of all, I’ve got something else new I want to test out.” She snapped her fingers. “Behold, the XCOM Mechound.” From behind one of the tattered XCOM flags and some ordinance crates, a machine looking similar to the ADVENT Techound - but smaller to a degree - stalked out, having a PDW folded into its back and sharp alloy claws more like its bigger, vicious cousin. “With any luck, TSG-1 will prove itself on the battlefield and we can occasionally have our Specialists take it out for a spin.”

“Aw… it looks almost cute for a murder-bot.” Gwen noted with a small smile. “I might steal it after the mission. But if there is nothing else I should be heading back. Chandra was close to busting a blood vessel even agreeing to let me roam.” She looked to the squad. “Good luck everyone. Sure you will do great.” She blew a kiss to Leon, winked at Yakone for totally no reason and went to depart.

The Ranger rolled her eyes, and fastened on her rolled-together cape onto the back of her new armor. About to head off to the Skyranger, she was stopped one last time by a tap on her shoulder. “What-” she began to ask Lily, before her eyes focused on the object that the older woman brought out from behind her back. “Holy… shit… you actually made one,” Yakone whispered with a childlike glee as she held up what appeared to be vaguely in the shape of a sword. Instead of a blade, however, it had an angled metal bracket shape with small projectors above and below the gap area. Experimentally, she pressed a button, and suddenly the gap flickered red and then was filled by a red laser. “Sweet…”

Olivia grinned. “I like mine equally,” she noted, holding a modified version of the arc rifle that looked like a cross between the electric weapon and a laser weapon. “Apparently the Proving Grounds team came up with three supplementary weapons, though the last one’s for Specialists and Christine isn’t interested in some UV radiation pistol.”

Yakone rolled her shoulders, glancing at her roommate. “Suit yourself,” she told Christine, deactivating her Las-Blade for now as Olivia shouldered her Electrolaser.

“So where is our leader?” Leon asked as he lugged his large weapon with him easily, moving towards the Skyranger. “Weren’t they supposed to meet us here and give us the debrief on the way?” The Grenadier asked in general, not being able to help but smirk at how the girls were showcasing their toys.

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Since I don’t count - being here to test the Mechound and all - the highest-ranking person is you. The Commander said she’s entrusting this one to Corporal Sinclair.”

“I won’t get used to that.” Leon grumbled, shaking his head as he let the others bored first and placed his helmet on his head, hoping he didn’t fall off another building this time as he walked into the Skyranger and the ship’s door closed behind him.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and MarineAvenger: “Smash and Grab, Part 2”

It took the Skyranger scarcely 37 minutes to arrive at the mission site, as the area of operations wasn’t far from the Avenger at all. Nevertheless, with the speeds the XCOM dropship travelled at they had gone from the edge of the Colombian rainforest to deep within it, where the ADVENT outpost in question was located. The squad’s briefing was fairly simple, as were their goals: land at the outpost and assist the Resistance forces there in clearing out any remaining hostiles, and then hold it while they extract the resources they need and XCOM takes whatever’s valuable to them.

The ADVENT outpost itself was fairly simple in design: it was a monolithic black tower rising up out of the canopy. As if that wasn’t enough of a statement in itself though, the several-story building had the jungle around it in a radius of thirty feet razed to the ground and covered in metal tiles that the undergrowth could not encroach on. This area in particular showed more distinct signs of battle than the hybrid-alloy structure in the center. Crates of various shapes and sizes were overturned. Chunks of concrete were torn out in small gashes from ballistic weapons fire and were removed entirely by the craters made as a result of magnetic weapons fire. The majority of the bodies were ADVENT thanks to a surprise attack that had begun the fighting, but there did appear to be a corpse or two belonging to the Resistance group on the ground as well.

As the XCOM forces disembarked, they got a closer look at these fallen freedom fighters. They were dressed up in black jackets and green bandanas. Yakone paused by one of them, but kept her PDW in hand in case any ADVENT forces burst out from the caved-in set of sliding doors that marked the only entrance into the tower. “Huh, these guys look somewhat like the Marauders… but more… gangster, maybe? I don’t know… not much of a fashionetta.”

“You may not be far off… some of the Resistance in Mexico has former cartel members,” Carlos noted. “I guess you could say they didn’t want to stop being criminals no matter who was in charge.”

Yakone’s eyes widened. “Wait, seriously? Why the hell would you trust former drug runners?”

“What happened to ‘we need anyone we can get’?” Olivia contested over comms as she snuck up on the door.

“Law and order?” Russell growled under his breath, planting his shield down momentarily to give the Ambusher a waypoint to the edge of the tower.

“Not much of that these days,” Christine pointed out as she covered Olivia with her carbine.

“Nowadays people make their own law and order.” Cornelia said in her heavy accent. “Me and my brother know that well. We had friends who were peddlers. They know how to move. How to fight. Especially how to keep secrets.” She noted, as if there was more of a story to that fact but she kept silent on the details.

“Several times teams I was apart of watched over Wilderness settlements. Like the old west brought to the modern world, and we were the sheriffs.” Leon noted with a nod to their teammate. “Just how things are out of the cities and shanties.”

“Do they still… you know… do the cocaine thing?” Yakone questioned.

“I honestly have no idea. Maybe you can ask them,” Carlos half-joked. “What’s it look like, Brown?”

“Clear,” the Ambusher reported. “Just to be safe though… there’s an upwards vent right here. Let me just send an eagle eye up.” Olivia pulled a combat knife and sliced off one side of the vent grating, allowing it to swivel open. She then reached into her armor pocket, and tossed a battle scanner up the hatch. “What do you see, Central?”

“Room’s clear of any hostiles. Resistance signatures marked. Seems to be they are holed up in a storage room of some kind. Looks like lots of crates and shelves, vent goes straight up and is towards the back of the room, though make it clear you are friendlies if you plan on climbing. Don’t need anyone getting jumpy.” Bradford replied best he could.

“If they’re not in combat we can probably raise them over the resistance radio,” Olivia pointed out, glancing at Leon. “That’d be up to you, sir.”

“Cornelia, hop on as well and act as a translator if needed.” He told the soldier, switching between the channels of the comms to try and pick up the right one while announcing that XCOM forces had arrived outside the tower.

After a few seconds a silver-tongued voice responded. “XCOM, huh?” the man said with a faint accent, apparently speaking nearly fluent English. “Good to have you, though you’re obviously late for the first part of the party. Just in time for the second though, if you want to join us upstairs to hold off reinforcements which our recently deceased friend in here informed us were incoming in five minutes.”

Leon switched off the channel, looking to his squad. “Seems we got our invitation. Let’s not waste our five minute RSVP.”

Lily hit a few buttons on her wrist, having her Mechound keep to the shadows. “Probably best if they don’t freak out thinking there’s an ADVENT robot along with us. I’ll have him stay out of the upper level, maybe ambush the enemy when we need him too.” With that in mind, the squad found the elevator in the center of the tower and took it upstairs. They reached the highest level of the tower - the fifth or six, most of them weren’t sure since they weren’t counting how far the elevator went up - and stepped out to meet the Colombian Resistance.

The man they had been talking to over the radio initially was the first to step out boldly, carrying a touched-up M-16 on his back. He had the same green bandana as the fallen soldiers outside, but with a jaguar painted on it. He had it lowered however to show a rather handsome face, and greeted the alien-fighting outfit with a mixture of warmness and business. “Welcome to our very-temporary abode, XCOM. I am Ramone Basurto, of the Alianza Irregular resistance forces.” He pointed to a more bulky man carrying a machine gun of some sort. “This is one of my counterparts, Feliciano Calma.” He gestured at another, this soldier a woman with tactical rigging and a DMR. “This is Debora Soza.” Finally, at the man wielding an AK just beside him. “And this is my son, Miguel.”

Why the introductions? Yakone suspiciously wondered to herself. Maybe trying to get our guard down so they can… do whatever it is drug cartels do. Take off our fingers?

“I would give likewise introductions but it is best if we kept our names secret. Can never be too careful.” Leon told the man in response, but kept the tone cordial, even if it was laced with enough authority to show he was the one in charge here. Leon instead gave codenames, ones each soldier made up themselves but never really used on base in case of meetups like this one.

“Of course, of course,” Ramone replied. “You don’t know if our names are necessarily our real ones, after all anyway. Such is the way of life even before Earth stopped belonging to humans.” He flashed a grin, and had XCOM join forces with his.

Carlos, Yakone, Cornelia, and Russell ended up taking up defensive positions with a few others, while Christine, Leon, Olivia, and Lily went into the room itself to take a look over the loot the Alianza Irregular had managed to collect. Most of it was basic supplies, elerium crystals, or alien alloys - most of them ADVENT’s impure variants. Ramone laid claim to most of those resources, but that was little trouble for XCOM. After all, they hadn’t come here in desperate need of supplies (though restocking was something to consider for the future) but rather in need of specific materials.

Christine, being an assistant in the medical division, found an item Tygan and Kazuko had needed to complete the skulljack process. “This looks like a few of the connectivity circuit plates Doctor Tygan asked us to bring back if they were here,” the Specialist declared, having opened a small crate to remove one of the interfacing components XCOM found it easier to steal than try and reproduce due to compatibility issues.

“We have no real use for that, so you’re free to take it,” Ramone told them.

Lily looked over a box containing experimental weapon attachments. “What about these?”

“If you agree to not take any of the alloys, you can have a cut,” the former Cartel member replied.

Olivia went over to a large crate that hadn’t been unsealed yet, and scorched off the electronic lock with her Electrolaser.

“I could have…” An-Yi began, glancing at the ‘sleeping’ Gremlin on the back of her EXO Suit.

“Too late now,” Olivia said with a chuckle and a shrug, opening the container. “Whoa… look at these.”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601: “Smash and Grab, Part 3”

Within laid three prototypes very similarly-designed weapons, the only variance in curvature and other minor details indicating that whoever designed the weapons was likely nearly done with the prototyping stage. From the back to the middle, they were structurally similar to shotguns. An angled stock and almost assuredly aesthetic wooden finish over more durable metals transitioned into something less familiar towards the front. The top end of the weapon’s barrel was pockmarked with holes as if it were an air-cooled machine gun of some sort, but the lone projectiles contained within disputed that assessment while still explaining the need for ventilation.

They were massive, razor-sharp javelin tips like oversized modern crossbow bolts. They looked like they used up any special armor penetration power from the sheer force it took to launch them and the slowdown from impact, but they still certainly would still pack a wallop. A pair of stylized but functional ‘crossbow’ ends on the top and bottom of the launching tube appeared to have tightly-packed mechanisms that assisted the ballistic-technology receiver in launching the titanic bullets. An apt name denoted what these single-shot, ferocious guns were on an electronic note inside the container that read ‘Bolt Caster Prototypes, commissioned by Captain Tulia Galliano of the Anterior South American Section for the suppression of Sector NWE-D14.’

“We can certainly put these to use,” Lily immediately declared, looking over the Bolt Casters with a nod of begrudging approval for her enemies’ engineering expertise.

***​

Yakone checked her PDW even though it was entirely unnecessary - even ignoring the fact that she’d done it three times now in the past four minutes - and avoided making eye contact with any of the guerrillas around her. The fact that some of her fellow ‘freedom fighters’ were former drug cartel members - perhaps not even ‘former’ preoccupied her to no small degree. I’m being unreasonable, she knew. Who cares what they sold? No, that last part wasn’t what really bothered her - if people wanted to get high, let them. That was her assertion.

No, what was upsetting the Marauding Crusader was the fact that she knew from what knowledge she had of the old world narcotic gangs was that they were not good people. They killed those that got in their way with no shortage of brutality. They reveled in extortion, acted through fronts, and participated in corruption. None of these things were really the hallmarks of a glorious revolution. How could these people possibly be on our side? Yakone had to wonder.

A young man tapped her on the shoulder, preventing her from trying to answer that question herself. She recognized him as the person Ramone had named as his son. The younger Basurto gave her a calm smile. “You’re La Cuchilla, right?” Miguel asked her. Noting her puzzled expression from an understandable lack of comprehension, he explained, “That’s what we call you, anyway. The woman with the floodlight helmet that supposedly cut down a Víbora single-handedly when XCOM resurfaced, and helped rescue the victims of ADVENT’s terrorismo up north.”

“The Knife, huh… I guess that fits.”

“We mean more ‘the Chopper’, if that sounds cooler,” Miguel furthered with a disarming casualness.

Yakone responded with a slight, inevitable grin. “Oh yeah, that definitely works. And yes, I am absolutely La Cuchilla.”

“It’s an honor to meet you and the other members of your organization. With your advanced technology and actions thus far you’ve given many in la Resistencia hope that we have a chance against ADVENT,” Miguel spoke gratefully and respectfully.

The Ranger rubbed the back of her neck. “Really? That’s awesome to hear. I’ve always hoped to be a hero to inspire others. Guess I’m living my freakin’ dream,” she realized, her smile expanding.

“As do I, though just being a part of the fight is enough for me,” Miguel replied.

Yakone frowned, and looked away momentarily. “Sounds… uh… noble.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow. “You don’t expect that? Because of my father,” he stated knowingly.

Yakone waved her hands in an ‘x’. “N-Nonono, that’s not what I-”

“You do not need to deny it, Cuchilla. I am used to it,” the younger Basurto assured her with a chuckle. “I’m sure you have a lot of preguntas about him. ‘Did he really do all those bad things I’ve heard rumors about?”

“...did he?”

Miguel nodded, but held up a hand as Yakone blanched. “Understand this: that was in the past. And in a different time.”

“But still… cutting people up? Bribery? Shakedowns?” Yakone murmured in disbelief.

“We did not know a life separate from that. And it is a hole one sinks into, and cannot escape.”

“Like a sinkhole?”

“Yes, like that. But I am not going to say that my father is a perfect man.” Miguel laid a hand on yakone’s shoulder reassuringly. “But I am not mi padre, and not everyone in Alianza Irregular is a former cartel member.” Miguel gestured at the bruiser named Feliciano. “Señor Calma was from Fuerzas Militares de Colombia before the invasion. And Debora was a member of one of the paramilitario groups that weren’t satisfied with the government’s work to quell corruption. Both fought for ideals rather than money. And still do, as do I.”

“And what are your ideals?” Yakone questioned, not entirely convinced they would be synonymous to hers.

“I believe that we - the younger generation - are the hope for the world. The old world wasn’t perfect, my family’s… how you say… desaprensivo history is a testament to that. But the reason even they were motivated to fight against ADVENT even though it is much more dangerous than fighting against the military-”

Feliciano crossed his arms, having set up his machine gun.

Miguel shrugged helplessly. “Up until the reforms, you weren’t much of a threat you have to admit.”

“And we would have probably put your father in jail had these devils not descended from space to occupy our country,” Feliciano reminded him.

“Point taken, mi amigo.” Continuing with his speech, Miguel went on to say, “the reason we fight is because that world was still safer and happier than the current status quo. And us young, foolish idealists like the revolutionaries of old - like the hero Simón Bolívar - can make what comes after ADVENT outstrip their world and the prewar nations in quality. Does that make any sense to you?” he asked.

Yakone nodded, letting out a drawn-out sigh. “Yeah, I can get behind it. I hate staring imperfection in the face, but I guess the world can’t be as black and white as I want it to be.”

“No one is perfect. Not even Bolivar was. But it is as much the ideals as the men that fight for them that matter. The Resistance as a whole stands for freedom, for justice, for honor. The past of its members cannot blacken that glorious reputation, just as the propaganda of ADVENT cannot forever mask what we fight for.”

“Very true. I wish you and your Irregular Alliance luck in showing South America the truth behind your conviction,” Yakone told Miguel with evident sincerity. “You’ve made me believe you, for what it’s worth.” She shook his hand. “Sorry I was… you know, suspicious of you guys.”

“Don’t be. Many are,” Debora spoke before Miguel could. “I didn’t want to join up with my paramilitary forces at first. Didn’t trust these idiotas myself. But after seeing them scrape through time and again, trusting former mortal enemies, I realized the complexities of the world myself. Don’t expect yourself to be able to rationalize everything, mujer joven. It comes with experience.”

“Mmm,” Yakone responded neutrally with a sigh. “I guess you’re right, but it doesn’t mean I have to-” she held up a hand, the elevator suddenly lurching down out of sight. Indistinct voices could be heard thanks to her call for silence. “Looks like we’ve got company,” she whispered over comms. “Let’s show them what the Alianza Irregular and XCOM can do in tandem, shall we?”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

XCOM Mission Overview

Operation Lightning Serpent
Guerrilla Op - Asset Recovery
0900 Hours, July 6th, 2038

South American Continent
Former República de Colombia
ADVENT Survey Tower ASA-13

At around 9 A.M. local time the composite Resistance forces in the tower made contact with ADVENT reinforcements. They were first detected by Squaddie Ipiktok, and the report was passed along to Corporal Sinclair, acting as the squad leader. Sinclair came up with best plan he could on the spot, which simply amounted to holding the positions the four spare Alianza Irregular operatives were holding with half of the XCOM team reinforcing. The other three remained in reserve while their CO went forward: Brown stuck to the shadows, as did Shen and her two mechanical allies - and Kohler and her secondhand Gremlin. Those three acted both as support while the other members of the Irregular Alliance were loading up supplies for both XCOM and themselves.

The task Sinclair set out to accomplish was not just taking charge of the situation, however. He boldly loaded up his grenade launcher with a high explosive payload, and sent it down the elevator shaft as the lift neared the top. With a tumultuous crash, it was sent back down to where it started - albeit with injured ADVENT forces within. Their status upon impact became largely deceased or dying, as the impact crushed many of the enemy troops. Sinclair’s move did mean that the troops would have to watch both side hallways or give the enemy defensive positions from two corners and leave our forces with nowhere to retreat. However, he quickly came up with a less explosive solution to this new problem.

The combined forces took up a defensive position at the right hallway, allowing themselves the opportunity to fall back into the central hallway to the storage room and helipad if necessary. Worried about the possibility of dropships deciding to risk the roof, Sinclair sent Kohler and Shen to the outside high point to train their missile launchers on the skies. In the meantime - while Shen’s Gremlin remained with her to bolster the sparse cover on the roof - the freshly-made XCOM Mechound took up a position at the end of the left hallway back on the highest indoor floor. From there, TSG-1 would be primed to launch a sneak attack on any ADVENT forces that might pose a risk of flanking ours.

And with Squaddie Cruz ready to suppress any potential survivors, the team would have time to reposition if the Mechound wasn’t enough to stop an assault from there. The upstairs area was a point of particular tension, even with the two Specialists covering it, however. If they failed to shoot down dropships they would have a hard time holding the enemy off. Sinclair seemed to hope it wouldn’t come to that however, and chose to focus on the right hallway as the primary defensive point.

The second wave of ADVENT troops proved fairly basic. Four Troopers supported by a pair of Medics, and a Gunner charged up the right stairwell, commanded by an Officer. The ADVENT Sergeant boldly chose to be the first one to burst through the door, and took the majority of incoming fire. He fell to Ipiktok’s PDW, but managed to toss his antipersonnel grenade before going down. This would have forced the entire team to scatter, but through quick thinking Leon ordered Winslow to raise his shield and took up a position to the side of the Juggernaut.

The plated aegis was able to weather the explosive blast, and Sinclair’s new blast padding meant he took minimal damage from it as well. The Grenadier didn’t waste any time, opening up with his minigun and mowing down one of the ADVENT Troopers while Winslow injured one of the Troopers and preoccupied a Medic with healing their wounded ally. As the others recovered the three uninjured Troopers moved into position, and their Gunner tried to shoot XCOM’s fielded Corporal. Ipiktok was there to protect him, the combination of her Predator Armor, Nanoscale Vest, and Overdrive Ability meaning that she was able to wear the bursts the enemy gauss gun dished out with no more than bruises.

Getting back into position, Espina tried out his new laser sniper rifle, and managed to blow a hole in the offending machine gunner with ease. With the medics keeping to the back and the three Troopers scrambling for cover, the right hallway XCOM team had at least a moment to breath while Calma, Soza, and the younger Basurto laid down some indiscriminate fire on the enemy.

In the left hallway just a few seconds prior, Shen’s Mechound had encountered another group barging in from the other side. This one consisted of a more dangerous cadre of ADVENT troops. Led by a Shieldbearer in front like the Officer to the right had been, a Rocketeer, Scorcher, and Assassin charged into the hallway. The Mechound pounced, its claws ripping into the Assassin before they could bring up their meticulously sharpened sword to defend themselves from the metal terror. The machine couldn’t follow up with its PDW for fear of being trapped in a corner, however, and thus leapt backwards and took some grazing hits from the Scorcher as it disappeared around the corner to the central hallway.

That left three enemies. The Shieldbearer didn’t seem afraid of Squaddie Cruz, and stood out in the open to put up a shield around itself and its two surviving allies. The Rocketeer ducked into the corner TSG-1 had been using as its ambush spot, while the Scorcher tried to advance regardless of Cruz’s suppressing fire. She landed a hit on him that burst his shield, but the flamethrower-equipped ADVENT soldier was unarmed and moved to bring his incendiary weapon to bear. Letting it loose, he set the Trooper on fire. While the flames licked her armor and didn’t do much damage to her at first, the heat was unbearable and quickly painful and Cruz was put at extreme risk of being attacked while she was ignited.

That is where Kohler came in. Hearing Cruz’s terrified pleas for assistance over comms, she sent Sparks downstairs to first extinguish the fire with a medical spray that healed any burns that were starting to become a problem, and then provided the Trooper with a defensive aid protocol distortion column. It would take time to restore Cruz’s confidence though, so Ipiktok broke away from her team and had TSG-1 follow her to go for a counterattack. Letting her imbued armor tank a hit from the Shieldbearer’s mag battle rifle, the Ranger cut down the Scorcher with her new Las-Blade. The Mechound popped the exposed Shieldbearer’s defensive bubble with its back-mounted PDW matching Ipiktok’s primary weapon in strength, and allowed a convalescent Cruz to bite into his armor once with her beam battle rifle, and then kill him with a follow-up shot.

The Rocketeer was left alive, however, and send an AP rocket barreling down the corridor into the three, shredding their armor and blowing it open. If they didn’t have their plated armor, the two soldiers would have taken grievous wounds, but instead they were shaken. It was TSG-1 that suffered the most from the attack, some of its wiring exposed and its armor ripped up. Yet, it still functioned, and almost angrily tackled the enemy soldier so Ipiktok could retaliate and finish him off.

Back over to the right, Sinclair was down one of his three companions but wasn’t out for the count. He sent an antipersonnel explosive of his own downrange to hit the four ADVENT Troopers from behind where they were dug in, shrapnel opening up their armor for finishing shots. Winslow took one of those, downing a Trooper, while Carlos killed another with his sidearm. The only ADVENT regular was healed by one of the two Medics, and the other combat doctor covered the three in a cloud of smoke cover. This presented a problem - or would have, if Winslow didn’t respond in kind with a much denser smoke of his own that gave the other three the time to win a battle of attrition and each score another kill.

As for the two troops on the roof, it proved a wise decision to leave them up there. Two ADVENT dropships and an automated Hellstorm gunship showed up. Without hesitation, Kohler summoned her Reflection to cover them from a burst of missiles launched by the flying machine that obliterated most of the rooftop’s cover and punched holes in landing pad. They didn’t have time to worry about whether Firebrand could still land there or not, however, and as Pavise lifted its bubble shield ‘hands’, the two Specialists counterattacked.

Kohler’s rocket careened into the Hellstorm, blowing up an engine and causing it to crash into one of the dropships and take both down onto the edge of the concrete below in a mixture of smashed metal and fire. The remaining dropship managed to release a MEC Trooper that fell on its side as its carrier’s cockpit was blown up by a dead-on shot from Shen. As the mechanized enemy moved to recover, Sparks returned and along with an awakened Rover it electrocuted the MEC. Barely surviving the double electric barrage, it chose to shoot at Shen. One burst got through, punching through about 80% of her armor and leaving her sweating before Pavise took the other hit for her. It put strain on Kohler, but Shen pulled herself together long enough to shoot the MEC Trooper. It staggered, let out a burst of electricity, and then toppled off the ledge - making a thunderous crash when it impacted with the ground several stories below.

No other ADVENT forces remained after that, and the Skyranger was able to arrive and pick up the supplies, dropping off whatever was unnecessary at a zone specified by Ramone Basurto and taking the XCOM squad - rattled but unhurt - back to the Avenger with the special equipment they’d recovered from the tower.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601: “Smash and Grab, Part 4”

1843 Hours, July 6th, 2038
Colombian Rainforest
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 3, Central Block
The Shadow Chamber

After a long period of relaxation and a cleansing shower, Chief Engineer An-Yi “Lily” Shen stepped into the Shadow Chamber to go over the recovered gear Operation Lightning Serpent had garnered XCOM. Chief Scientist Robert S. Tygan was waiting for her, in his typical expectant posture - his arms clasped behind his back as he looked over the interfacing chips. “Hey, Tygan,” Lily broke the silence after awhile.

“Good work out there, Dr. Shen,” Robert brought himself to say as he turned around to face her.

“Thanks… though there’s a reason I prefer the hard labor on the ship to fighting out on the battlefield. Nearly had a heart attack when the MEC started shooting at me.” Lily rubbed her stomach, wincing and letting out a small groan. “Damn thing bruised me through the armor. Wish I could regenerate like Yakone.”

“At least you’re not reckless because of a special ability like that. Caution is valuable,” Tygan noted, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly.

Lily returned his look with a lot more incredulity. “Is that a compliment, Tygan?” Albeit a very roughly phrased one.

“I am not incapable of thinking things other than ill of you, Shen,” Robert told her, not allowing the thought of what Irons had said to him to factor into his conscious reasons for saying something positive about Lily.

Deciding it was better to just roll with it and not bother him, An-Yi walked over to the computer terminal. “So these will work for you?”

Tygan nodded. “I’ve already gone to the trouble of rigging them up to the prototype.” He pulled out a wrist module decorated in pure medical whites and some electronic blues - particularly on the circular screen that looked a lot like a futuristic watch. The main attraction wasn’t the plating attaching it to one’s hand, however, but rather the pair of sharp, segmented prongs that stretched out from it. Robert brought the device before an ADVENT helmet and the dummy within, but hesitated upon testing it.

“Something wrong with it?” Lily asked.

Robert shook his head. “It’s… not that. I understand that we’re in a war, but this is a design far more brutal than anything I’ve made in the past. Removing chips normally is a slow and dangerous process, but to hack into them with the subjects are still alive… well, they don’t survive the process of having this jammed up their skull as I’m sure you can guess.”

“You find it distasteful,” An-Yi replied questioningly.

“Yes. Killing an enemy because they are shooting at you is one thing, but to jack into their cranium in order to steal intelligence… that is another. It’s a prospect I’m not entirely comfortable with.”

“Then remind yourself that you won’t have to do it personnaly. The person that invents a weapon is usually not the one that fires it,” Atka said from the doorway.

Tygan and Shen straighten their postures, and both greeted her. “Commander,” they said one after the other.

“At ease. Robert, give me the Skulljack prototype. I’ll test it,” the Inuit officer instructed him. Tygan complied, and Atka looked over the offensive medical device before jamming it through the black helmet and into the plastic structure of the ‘Trooper head’. “Seems like it can penetrate armor with the right amount of force. Looks ready for production to me if the integration chips are accessing the samples properly.”

“I’ve tested it in a psionically-sealed environment - can never be too careful - and that part does work,” Robert affirmed. “I’ll… take your advice, then. I’ll produce the models we need with Shen and then wash my hands of the Skulljack Project.”

Atka nodded. Her eyes narrowed as she glanced to the side, her eyes focusing on one of the recovered ‘Bolt Casters’ lying against the side of the room. “What is this?”

“They’re called Bolt Casters, apparently,” Shen explained. “We found them in a crate marked to be used in some sort of suppression campaign. They seem oddly specialized… and I imagine they’re prototypes since they don’t have any magnetic-powered mechanisms that I can discern. It runs completely off gunpowder and kinetic energy.”

“Have you tested them in the Armory?” Atka questioned, holding it up and keeping the safety lock she took notice of on so a misfire wouldn’t destroy the wall of the still fairly new facility they were in.

“Not yet, no. Want to do it yourself, sir?”

“Of course.” Atka started to walk for the door with An-Yi. “Robert, you come too.”

“With all due respect, sir, my expertise is not with weapons-”

“Still, you should see what it can do. Maybe it’ll inspire you,” Atka contested.

“And you shouldn’t be such a recluse. That’s…” Lily almost made a spider analogy aloud, but then shuddered at the thought.

Robert filed her sudden tension away for later consideration, and sighed. “Alright, if you insist. Let’s go.”

***​

Onboard the Avenger
Floor 3, Rear Block
The Armory

Firebrand crossed her arms, the Skyranger pilot watching with her friend Yakone leaning next to her against the wall as Atka lined up a target with the new weapon. “That thing still looks cool as hell… I wonder how much damage it’ll do,” Danielle muttered to herself.

“It looks stupid to me… a freaking longbow?” Yakone snickered. “That won’t do anything useful.”

“It appears like a crossbow, not a longbow, dummy,” the younger Slater corrected Yakone.

“Whatever. Doesn’t change the fact that it’s not a real-”

Atka squeezed the trigger on the Bolt Caster. It took a second to prime itself, the curved extensions pushing themselves open with significant force to bolster the speed of the launch. With velocity surprising for such a large projectile, the caster’s bolt shot forward like a javelin, impaling itself through the thin conventional metal target and scraping the wall where it landed.

“What was that about it not being a real weapon?” Danielle asked with a grin.

“Oh, shut up…” Yakone mumbled, defeated.

Atka nodded to Lily. “Seems like a good weapon.”

The Chief Engineer smirked. “I’ll say. You know, it might be a better fit than the ATR for our Ambushers. If those using Anti-Tank Rifles don’t mind, I’d prefer to switch their guns out for this one.”

“Really? I’d lose a lot of penetrating power that I get with an anti-armor long rifle like the one I use now,” Atka pointed out.

“Maybe, but the raw damage looks to be greater. Fits a hunter-killer class like the Ambushers,” An-Yi argued. “And what’s more, the ATRs as is don’t really fill a role that’s at all similar to what the MPMs do for Grenadiers. I have some plans to change that, but it’d change the way the Anti-Tank Rifle into more of an… Anti-Tank Cannon?”

Atka rubbed her chin. “...interesting. I’ll have to see where you plan to go with an ‘ATC’ line, but I’ll start training with a Bolt Caster at least for now. If I feel comfortable enough with it, I’ll switch out. It should be gradual so no one’s thrown off on a mission.”

“Of course, sir,” Lily acknowledged. “I’ll let the others know. Thank you for your time.”

“And thank you for your work, both on the field and off it, An-Yi,” Atka replied with a smile.

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

Enchanting Tunes, Dulcet Melodies

Onboard the Avenger
Engineering
July 17th

"Would you slow down!?" Ayame shouted to the large, dark-skinned engineer as he moved rapidly around his work space.

"I don't know who you think you are," Jack said, not looking at her. "But you need to learn to take no for an answer."

Ayame huffed. "If you would just listen! It is just a simple but important customization..."

"If I start customizing everyone's weapons with every little thing they want to be special..."

"It isn't little!" Ayame insisted. "And just don't tell anyone you did it for me."

"And you are not going to get special treatment." Jack stopped as she rushed in front of him, an odd look on her face. "What?"

In a smooth, seductive voice, Ayame said, "I will make it worth your time. Over... and over again."

Jack have her a cold look. "Sorry. I'm not into women young enough to be my daughter."

Ayame rolled her eyes. "I'm not as young as I look. Just... please, make my grip stronger. Why is that so bad?"

The engineer rubbed his brow. "Because making your grip stronger means adding denser materials to the hilt. Doing that will throw off the balance of the sword. Then I'll have to do extra work on the blade, rebalance, and in the end it would almost be better to just make the sword from the ground up."

"Then do that!"

Jack groaned. "Why do you think you need a stronger grip?" Ayame handed him her blade, and he examined the hilt, noting the indentations in the grip. "What did you do? How did you damage it like this? It... almost looks like you squeezed it tight enough to..."

Ayame turned away. "I... I don't know. Maybe some inferior materials were used to make it. Can you repair it and make it stronger?"

Jack sighed. "I guess I don't have a choice. You realize doing so will make the blade heavier, right?

Ayame spun back around and grinned at him. "That shouldn't be a problem."

"If you say so." Jack placed it to the side and finished putting his tools away. "Later, though. I have a performance to attend."

Ayame raised an eyebrow. "What performance?"

"Come down to the lounge and see for yourself." With that, Jack turned off his lights and jogged out.

Ayame pondered if she should just head back to her room and relax, but decided instead to take him up on his suggestion. She made her way to the lounge, and saw that the furniture had been moved to the side, and was now filled with chairs occupied by various members of the staff. She barely recognized anyone, though there were a few familiar faces. Near the back, she saw Yakone, and considered sitting with her. But she was already sitting with her three friends, including the green-haired woman from the other day, as well as a young man with another girl with a crutch. Shrugging, Ayame found a seat near the front and sat patiently.

At the front of the room, a young blonde girl Ayame didn't recognize stood on an improvised stage, holding a violin and pretending to flip through some music sheets while waiting for the room to quiet down. When it didn't, and the girl was obviously too nervous to say something, Jack stood up from his seat in the front row and stepped next to her. His large presence alone was enough to get the talking to die down.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he started. "We gather here with the blessing of our Commander to enjoy the musical talents of our youngest crew member, Brigid Hunnigan, who shall delight us with three musical pieces. First up, a personal favorite of Ms. Hunnigan's. She wanted to play this because she recently played it for a new friend she made in, and hopes that it will earn the friendship of everyone here."

Brigid blushed, and cleared her throat.

"Sorry," Jack whispered, then continued. "From the sound track of a long lost comedy movie from the 1970s, let the dulcet, haunting sounds of this song sooth you and carry you away. This is Transylvanian Lullaby, by John Morris."

Jack nodded to Brigid and sat down, hitting play on an MP3 player. It contained songs edited by one of the intelligence staff to take out the violin parts, allowing Brigid to play with other instruments accompanying her. The young girl, as per usual, played with all the skills of one who had been a musician as long as she had been. The music filled the lounge and echoed through the halls, filling the nearby rooms and corridors with Brigid's sweet tones.

Ayame leaned towards the woman next to her and whispered, "She's incredible. Her parents must be proud."

Morrigan gave her a big smile. "I am. Morrigan O'Brien. Mother of the angel with the violin."

The Asian woman nodded. "Ayame Kasagi. Sitting in awe."

Brigid swayed slightly as she played. This was one of her favorite songs, but lately, whenever she played it, she felt herself slipping away. She would enter a trance-like state, playing the song on instinct, and her mind would slip away to somewhere dark. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere where the voices in the dark confused her. They sometimes terrified her, especially when what they were saying started to become clear.

Brigid slowly opened her eyes, coming out of her trance after ending her song and finding everyone clapping. Like any dream, she forgot it immediately and smiled, bowing to the group as Jack stood up next to her again.

"Frédéric François Chopin was born in the Duchy of Warsaw in 1810, and led a short but interesting life. Although he died at the young age of 39, the musical prodigy contributed so much to the world of musical composition. Although most famous for his piano pieces, Chopin did occasionally venture to other musical instruments. For the delight of your ears, here is Chopin's Compositionen für Pianoforte und Violine."

Instead of sitting down and going to the MP3 player, Jack instead stepped behind Brigid and sat down at a large keyboard. The instrument was old, beat up, had taken a lot to get it working, didn't carry the notes half as well as an actual piano, and Jack was out of practice, but no one was here for him. He was only here to help Brigid.

The pair played well together, apparently having practiced a bit. Jack's large fingers moved across the keys with surprising efficiency, while Brigid hit every note with precision. All were silent, watching her with a intensity that might have made her falter were she not focusing on the musical sheet before her or keeping her eyes closed.

When she was done, the room erupted in even more applause then before. The ecstatic young Blonde turned her musical sheets, but looked worried at what she found and continued flipping. As she seemed to panic a bit and the audience started to murmur, Jack knelt next to her and whispered, "What's wrong?"

"I-I can't find... I must have forgot... I can't play the last song without the sheet music!" Brigid started to hyperventilate.

Jack placed his hand on her head. "Easy, girl. It'll be okay." He thought, and smiled. "Remember that one song we were practicing for fun? Why not play that?"

Brigid shook her head. "The recording we have doesn't have vocals."

"Then I guess I'll have to provide them." Jack stood up, and cleared his throat. "Now, for our final piece, a little gem from the 1970s, an uptempo bluegrass piece that I shared with Brigid and she took a liking to. This... requires singing on my part, so if you will be... a bit understanding..." Several of the audience members clapped and said words of encouragement, prompting Jack to crack a small smile. "Alright. This is The Devil Went Down to Georgia, by The Charlie Daniels Band."

Jack found the appropriate song on the MP3 player, and the duo began. Brigid provided the violin piece while Jack sang the song. Although his voice was a bit deep for the role, he was an impeccable singer, hitting every note perfectly. Brigid, for her part, was amazing for someone who had only learned the song a month or so ago. Her solo pieces were incredibly difficult, intense, and overwhelming, but she got through them, amazing everyone as her tiny hands moved about her musical instrument.

When it was over, the pair got a standing ovation. Jack shook a few hands, but stepped back and let Brigid get the bulk of the praise. Morrigan slid next to him, and gave him a nudge on the arm. "Thank you, Irons. You're the best."

Jack nodded. "We all need something cheerful in this time of strife. I'm willing to bet once word gets around, we'll need somewhere with a lot more room to do this again next time."

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and ZombieSplitter53: “Token of Gratitude, Part 1”

1017 Hours, July 8th, 2038
Above the Amazon Rainforest
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 6, Central Block
Command Quarters

Commander Ipiktok sat at her desk, her laptop open and an old-fashioned cord phone braced between her shoulder and ear. She typed up a set of fresh instructions for the science and engineering teams, asking them to begin work on the microwave weapon concepts Tygan had dreamed up a few months ago but never had the time to work on.

"The report from the Marines is...?" she asked a member of the intelligence team over the phone. Sending the shipboard email she'd prepared for the R&D duo, Atka swapped to another tab and sent out an instruction to Bradford asking him to inform all Ambushers wielding ATRs to begin training with Bolt Casters.

"Another terror attack, you say? How bad? Minor, huh. Well..." Finally, the Inuit woman informed the medical team that the cadavers recovered from Oklahoma were a top priority, and should be worked on by their number and Jessica Chambers as soon as possible.

"...we're going to have to trust them to handle it. Tell them to save who they can and then pull out, we're too far away to assist in time." Getting confirmation, the Commander hung up. She looked across the desk at the younger woman across from her. "Cross-referencing get you anywhere yet, Hollins?"

Ursula looked up from her own mobile computer and shook her head with disappointment in her eyes. "No... with satellite data that is 15 years old at best, I can't get an accurate bead on where the location Samara described is. We'll probably need to steal enemy intelligence to figure it out."

"Understood. Keep trying, though. You can head back to your department for now, though stop by Morrigan O'Brien's room and tell her to come up here in fifteen minutes."

"Got it, Commander." Ursula folded up her laptop and stood up, exiting the room as Atka took another call.

"Exposed wire in the Cybernetics Lab room? Call Megalos, not me..."

***​

Morrigan ran in twenty-three minutes later, out of breath, her face red from exertion. "Sorry, Commander. You called?"

"Where have you been?" Atka naturally questioned.

"Well, Brigid was sleeping, and I didn't want to, you know, wake her up too fast - so it took me a minute.” as Morrigan explained, the blonde in question peeked out from behind her mother's legs.

"I have a hard time believing you just ran up here with her able to keep up..." Atka gave a nod of acknowledgement to Brigid, letting the other issue go for now. "I wanted to thank you two for that performance yesterday. It was good for morale from what I can tell."

Morrigan blinked several times in surprise before responding, "Thank you, Commander. Did you get a chance to come yourself?"

Atka shook her head. "I was busy - I almost always am. I did listen to the audio recording this morning, though."

"Well, I appreciate the thanks, but all I did was provide encouragement and ask Mr. Irons to help. Brigid is the one who put herself out there." Morrigan stepped to the side for Brigid, but the girl shimmied to stay behind her. Morrigan gave the Commander a nervous laugh and took another step, but Brigid moved to stay hidden.

"Um... is she quite alright?"

"Y-yeah. She's just... being silly." Morrigan turned and crouched in front of her daughter. "Brigid," she whispered. "We talked about this, remember?"

"She is going to hate me," Brigid whispered back.

"She isn't going to hate you."

"She's going to recycle me."

"Brigid, enough," Morrigan said louder. "The Commander gave you a compliment. And what do we do when we are complimented?"

Brigid lowered her eyes, and finally walked in front of her mother, standing before Atka and bowing her head. "Thank you, Ms. Commander."

"You're welcome." Atka tried to smile, but only sighed in frustration. "Why are you afraid of me?" she asked rather bluntly.

Brigid jumped. "What? No. Sorry. I'm not... I-I'm sorry, Ms. Commander. I just... it is just... um..." She rubbed her hands together nervously.

Atka rubbed her forehead in frustration. Can you... explain? she telepathically asked Morrigan. I'm not good with kids.

Morrigan looked surprised for a moment. What? Oh, um... she isn't scared of you personally. I, um... kinda had to teach her to be wary of authority figures who might... you know, have her taken away for being sickly. She was a lot more subtle about it when she was younger, but ever since I rescued her from that orphanage, it has been worse.

Atka shook her head at Brigid. "Don't worry about it. It’s alright,” the Commander attempted to reassure the young girl, pushing back her chair slightly to give Brigid a little space.

Brigid shook her head. "I'm sorry. I, um... th-thank you for... letting me stay here. And giving me a job. And giving my mother a job. And letting me play my violin. And... um..." Brigid's eyes darted about as she searched for something else to thank her for.

Atka sighed. "It's fine, you don't need to over-saturate the gratitude...." It sounds really fake, she added as a brooding afterthought.

"Oh... okay." Brigid slowly smiled. "Are you really Yakone's mom?" Morrigan's eyes widened a bit, and she took a step forward.

"The full answer to that is much more complex than I care to bother you with, so the short answer is yes. You've met her?" Atka inquired, tapping her foot against the interior of her desk to distract her from any frustration she might have with Brigid and remind herself that the blonde was just a 12-year-old ignorant of any family issues the Inuit woman might have.

"Uh huh. She and I are friends now. We met, and made friends, but then we had a fight about my dad, but then we made friends again. Um... how come I never see you with her? Is it because you are always busy?"

Morrigan leaned down behind her. "Honey, I don't think the Commander has time to answer all your silly questions."

Brigid pouted. "It's not a silly question... is it?"

"No, but it's something you'd be better off being ignorant of. Trust me," Atka said neutrally - or at least tried to. Her tone in reality was edging on frigid.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and ZombieSplitter53: “Token of Gratitude, Part 2”

"Why?" Brigid asked curiously. "I'm a pretty smart kid, you know. I think I would understand."

"You're smart enough to understand some things are private affairs, then," Atka contested. Narrowing her eyes at the young girl, she let out a small grumble. "I would like to speak with your mother about something... tangentially related, though, if you don't mind."

Brigid shrunk back a little, and nervously nodded her head. She quickly retreated from the room, and Morrigan quickly said, "Commander, please... I'm sorry."

"She's just a stupid kid," Atka replied dismissively. "Speaking of, I... would like some advice."

Atka could visibly see Morrigan hold back something, the woman only saying, "Go on."

"I've gone to a close friend about this, but I still don't... feel like I know what I'm doing." Atka tapped her foot harder. "I'm trying to make amends with my daughter. One of my best friends - that's still alive - advised I take my time, be patient, and not be so distant from my troops... or her. But I can't help but feel I'm doing something wrong... we still barely interact, and I don't think things have gotten better since she recovered from the our first fatality."

"Well... what do you two do when you two do interact?" Morrigan queried.

"Not much, I've tried talking to her but most conversations just meander off quickly," Atka responded with despair easily discernible from her agitated tone.

"Well, that may be your problem," Morrigan answered bluntly. "Simply being there isn't enough. You have to show more effort. What does Yakone like to do?"

"She has a fascination with old movies, sports, swordsmanship... what, do you think watching a western with her will fix things? That's ridiculous," Atka opined irritably.

Morrigan placed her hands on her hips. "I see. I thought when you asked me, the woman with a healthy relationship with her daughter, for advice with connecting with her daughter, you were going to listen to my advice about connecting with your daughter. My mistake."

"And I believe I told you to watch your tone before," Atka growled, but her anger quickly ebbed. "I just... really don't want to hit another dead end, O'Br... Morrigan."

"I understand." Morrigan sighed. "It isn't going to be easy. But Yakone is a smart young woman. She will pick up that you are putting in the effort, and things will be better for it. Ask her to watch a movie. Exercise with her. Train with her. Just... find what she likes to do and be there. And try to enjoy it. Just spending the time with her will naturally bring you closer. As strange as it sounds, one of the problems is you aren't used to each other. You need to work on changing that first and foremost. Make her used to having you around."

"So... take my time." Atka rubbed her forehead. "For the last time, damn you, Melissa," she muttered under her breath, before continuing at a discernible volume, "The biggest obstacles are going to be her stubbornness and my impatience, then."

"That does sound like a match made in hell, but remind yourself what it is all for, and you can do it. You love her, right? You want this to work, right?"

"I... don't know."

"You don't know what?" Morrigan asked, confused. "If you love her?"

The Commander gave the slightest of nods. "I... have to wonder if the reason I've done such a terrible job as a parent is because I don't have the capacity to care anymore," Atka whispered, tinges of both depression and fear marking her wavering voice.

Morrigan folded her arms and scoffed. "You can suspend me, expel me, or execute me for my 'tone' if you want, but that is a crock of horse shit. A dispassionate monster of a woman who cares for no one but themselves or is simply out of their mind is the only kind of woman who stops caring for their child. Otherwise, all mothers with an ounce of passion left love their children. And you have plenty of passion left. You work so hard to make this resistance work. You just need to kick yourself out of this apathetic funk and give some of that passion to your daughter. She deserves it. You deserve it. So do it already. An' ter 'ell wi' al' dis pointless, senseless, unneeded tripe doubt. You're de only tin' stoppin' yerself!"

"I am... pathetic, aren't I? I had a good example and everything, but I completely failed to..." Atka trailed off, her voice uncharacteristically cracking.

Morrigan frowned and walked up to her desk. "I don't think you’re pathetic, Commander. And neither should you. You just... need to open yourself up more to things like... you know, friendship. You know we are all here to support you, right?"

Atka lowered her head, shifting it from side to side slowly. "I wouldn't say all of you. But I know you are." She looked back up at Morrigan. "Thank you for the advice... sorry you have to... see your CO like this."

Morrigan rubbed her neck. "Well... you're human, right. To be honest... I like seeing you in a more vulnerable state, and not... you know, the unapproachable Commander persona. It makes it easier to relate to you."

"They're just..." Atka began, straightening her posture and continuing, "shadows of who I used to be. Someone I can never be again."

Morrigan shrugged. "I'd be up for helping test that. I just have one... small request." Atka responded with a reluctant 'go on' expression. Morrigan looked hesitant herself, but softly said, "Please don't... call Brigid a stupid kid again. It... kinda irks me."

"I didn't mean it an offensive way, but I'll... do my best to keep that in mind," Atka responded evenly.

Morrigan nodded her head. "And next time I see Yakone, I'll try and put a good word in for you. Maybe try and encourage her like I've tried to encourage her. How could I be a self respecting mother to my daughter and not try and help another mother and daughter in need?"

"I appreciate that. And again, make sure your daughter knows her hard work is appreciated,” Atka tiredly reminded Morrigan.

"I will." Morrigan cleared her throat, and stood up straight. "Anything else, sir?"

"That'll be all,” the Commander insisted.

Morrigan bowed her head, and took her leave. Before the door to the office completely closed, however, Brigid stuck her head into the office and gave Atka a cautious smile. "Thank you, Ms. Commander. It was nice meeting you."

Atka gave her a small, defeated smile. “It was nice meeting you too, Brigid.”

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Taxor_the_First and DarkGemini24601: “Confluence, Part 1”

Roof Deck of Avenger, The Amazon
5:47 PM, July 9th


Lester took a moment to catch his breath. Stairs had always presented a problem for the Specialist, and he’d just had to climb several flights of the bastards. He scanned the rooftop deck of the giant mobile base, searching for someone. “You’re certain he’s up here?” he asked Alan, who had been following him up here.

“Absolutely,” the Ambusher replied, bringing up a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the setting sun. “I followed him last time. Thought I’d get you before I said something stupid, though.”

A quiet beep from Lucifer indicated to its master that it had located their target. Lester followed the drone’s gaze and saw, some distance behind them, a figure silhouetted against the orange sky, leaning against the railing. He was still, a tranquil statue against the blazing sky. An immovable object.

Lester turned his head slightly. “Leave us,” he commanded, and Alan obediently retreated below deck. Slowly, with a gait that was somewhere between deliberate pacing and creeping, he approached the figure, who did not acknowledge his presence at first. He joined him at the railing, both resting on their forearms, drinking in the view. “What’s with the pilgrimages?” Lester asked at last.

“Needed some space,” Samuel replied, not turning his head.

“Still disappointed we didn’t get your father out of that mission?”

The Trooper did not answer.

Lester nodded slowly. “It’s ok. That’s a logical way to feel.”

“No ‘I told you so’?” Samuel asked.

“I’m not that much of a bastard,” the Specialist stated indignantly. He waved a hand at the equipment set up outside, at the ship on which they stood. “And I’m not going to berate you for having hope. That’s the fuel that keeps this war machine running after all.”

“I don’t know,” Samuel said, sighing. “I’m starting to feel like I’ve made a mistake coming here. Like this whole thing is an exercise in futility. Like I should give up on this vain hope that I’ll find my father alive.”

Lester stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “Exercise in futility?” he scoffed. “Giving up is the exercise in futility. Never. Never. Give up.”

The Russian turned around to face him. “What?”

“Surrendering is a fool’s venture,” the Specialist stated. “You push through to the end, always. What do you have to lose? The same things you’d lose by giving up hope. And there’s always a chance that you’ll succeed. Just as you can lose while you’re winning, so too can you win while you’re losing. Snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.”

Samuel scowled at him. “What the hell do you care?” he demanded. “What’s it to you?”

“Is it such a hard idea to swallow that I and the rest of the squad are worried about you?” Lester shook his head. “Even if you choose to believe that is not the case, consider going into battle with a squadmate that has lost hope. They’re not going to be at peak efficiency.”

“They’d have nothing to lose.”

“Nothing to gain, either. Even if you choose to believe my motivations for talking to you know are completely selfish, you would be hampering everyone else’s chances of surviving in the future.” The Specialist sighed. “If I must drop an ultimatum then so be it. Get your act together, or I tell Bonnie you need cheering up.”

Samuel’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare. Your liver wouldn’t be able to take it.”

“Is that really a risk you’re willing to take?”


1921 Hours, July 9th, 2038
The Amazon Rainforest
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 2, Rear Block
The Bar


“I’m not sure I understand the purpose of this,” Samara argued, pushing back slightly against Bonnie’s firm grip. She had to twist her head slightly further than normal to look at her, the eyepatch over the new Juggernaut’s ruined eye.

“You’re one of us, now,” the Grenadier insisted. “But you’re still new. What better way to get to know someone than by drinking them under the table?”

“I didn’t get an initiation like this,” Samuel muttered, quietly though so that Bonnie didn’t get any ideas.

Alan, however, heard him. “Probably because you’re born a Russian, raised an Australian. The only combination that might give her some bother.”

The Trooper grinned. “Yeah, there’s that.”

The squad entered the bar, their helpless prisoner struggling against the tide. A few within turned their heads to the newcomers, the forced method of entry attracting some attention.

Yakone waved at Samuel. “Oh, hi Sam. What’s up?” Next to her was a woman unfamiliar to some of the Russian Trooper’s friends - and even those that had seen her had never actually spoken with her.

Samuel slipped away from the carousing group (minus Lester, who was attempting to instill some order into the proceedings), followed closely by Alan. “Yakone, good to see you.” He indicated the other woman. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Samuel, this boyish-looking asshat behind me is Alan. What’s your name?”

The blond woman didn’t acknowledge him at first. A slight bobbing of her head warranted further investigation, which in turn revealed that she had a small pair of headphones over her ears. One of them was promptly removed without warning by Yakone, who garnered her attention in that manner. “Hm? What?”

“This is my friend, Samuel Yokolov,” Yakone introduced the soldier before them. “He wanted to know your name.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” The blond looked up at Samuel. “I’m Christine Kohler. Nice to meet you, Samuel.”

Sitting alone with a friend and she wears headphones. Nice way to lighten up conversations.“Same to you. You new here, or have I just not seen you?”

Behind him, Alan rolled his eyes. “I know you’re part time intelligence staff, but you don’t have to interrogate her,” he admonished. “And since when did you know the Commander’s daughter?” he added quietly.

Yakone groaned quietly, while Christine just smiled and answered, “I arrived here awhile back, and room with Yakone now.”

“She’s not ‘new’ anymore per say, since she lost her mission virginity recently,” Yakone noted with a wave of her hand.

“That’s a… um… odd way to phrase that…” Christine pointed out uncomfortably.

“You went out recently?” Alan asked with surprise. “I’d heard there was an op, but not much more than that.”

“Because nothing ground-shaking happened,” Samuel stated. “Went rather smoothly, I heard.” In the distance, Lester’s voice could be heard attempting to regain control of Bonnie’s attitude and failing miserably. “Bloody hell, are they alright over there?”

“Who’s alright?” Yakone asked curiously, leaning forward and to the side of Samuel to try and see.

“Rest of our squad,” the Russian answered. “Our first mission, we rescued a prisoner.”Just not the one I’d hoped.“That’s Samara, the woman with the eyepatch. Bonnie’s the one trying to force-feed her beer. Holly’s the one sitting on the chair over watching them, Arthur is the guy standing off to the side a bit, and Lester’s the one trying to reign in Bonnie.” He chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

“I didn’t know if there were any other distinctive teams onboard the ship besides mine,” Christine remarked. “What’s your squad called?”

“C-called?” Samuel blanched. “I… uh… hmm.” He turned to Alan. “We don’t… have a squad name, do we?”

The Ambusher shrugged. “Holly keeps trying to bring that up, but it’s never been an issue. Never had any… well, competition.” He switched his gaze to Christine. “You said you’re part of a squad? What are you guys called?”

“We’re the Mavericks,” Christine responded with pride. “Olivia was the one that came up with it. She said that we’re all unique in our own ways and have our own styles, and the name stuck.”

“The Mavericks, huh?” The two unnamed squad members turned at the voice, Holly arriving behind them. “That’s a good one. I like that. I’m Holly, by the way.”

Samuel turned his head. “Get your arm off my shoulder,” he said.

“And mine,” Alan added.

The Sharpshooter groaned and released the two men. “I just wanted to lean on something,” she moaned.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

Taxor_the_First and DarkGemini24601: “Confluence, Part 2”

“Need a bipod to set up on, do you?” a woman asked from behind the group of conversing soldiers. The person in question was a woman wearing a brown cowboy hat and duster, a tan button-up shirt, baggy blue jeans, and a pair of jet-black aviators. “Holly Delago, right? Fellow Sharpshooter-in-arms?” To either side of the gunslinger were two people. On the right, a Hispanic-Dominican and a Hispanic-German, and on the left a man of Nordic descent and a woman of Algonquian and Caucasian origin.

“And you must be Stacie Belle,” the Argentinian said, grinning and extending a hand. “Nice glasses.”

“Thanks, though I’ll admit I stole it from Olivia,” Stacie confessed, nodding her head towards the Alqonquian-Caucasian with a similar pair raised onto her forehead - except that Olivia’s sunglasses were a sunrise color.

“And I stole them from my father. Shall we keep going back in time until we reach the person that invented sunglasses?” the Ambusher questioned with an inclined eyebrow.

“We can if you want, but that’d be a waste of the present,” Samuel answered dismissively. “I’m Samuel, this is Alan, you clearly already know of Holly.” He indicated the two either side of the Texan Sharpshooter. “And you four are…?”

“Olivia Brown,” the Ambusher clarified.

“Heinrich Bauer,” the German introduced himself with a distinctive accent.

“Maxwell Dominguez,” his Dominican counterpart added on.

“Christoffer Strand,” the Norwegian next to Olivia stated. “Leader of Maverick Squad.”

“And I’m his second in command, of course,” Olivia pointed out proudly. “By merit of the fact that if I hadn’t drug him out of an avalanche snowdrift the squad wouldn’t exist.”

“Hence his callsign being ‘Snowdrift’,” Heinrich clarified with a minor chuckle.

“Shut it, kraut,” Christoffer muttered.

“That so?” Alan asked, bringing a hand up to his chin. “Maybe we should start calling Bonnie ‘pub’ then.”

Holly poked Samuel in the back of the neck. “You still don’t have a nickname,” she pointed out.

The Russian rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Working on it.”

“You don’t have a callsign? For shame,” Olivia chastised the Russian. “Callsigns are the lifeblood of any good squad,” she declared as Christoffer, Heinrich and Maxwell went over to where the other members of Samuel’s group were drinking to get something themselves.

***​

“...It’s not poison you daftie,” Bonnie insisted. “Have ye never drunk before?”

“Not to this degree!” the new Juggernaut said, pushing the Grenadier away. “I don’t like being inebriated, alright? Lowers my reaction times, makes me make bad decisions-” She considered the wording of what she’d just said. “Tactically,” she added.

Lester scowled at the display, folding his arms. “Why won’t you help?” he asked Arthur gruffly.

The Ranger shrugged. “Not my problem,” he said.

The Specialist turned to the three Mavericks that had just arrived behind him. “You three. Do you think you could help me keep her under control?”

“Alcohol should not be force-fed, it should be enjoyed,” Heinrich contested, crossing his arms.

“Exactly my point!” Bonnie said. “Except someone is refusing to enjoy it.”

“Maybe she’d enjoy it if you didn’t force-feed it to her like… I can’t think of a metaphor that wouldn't get one of these idiots to hit me over the head, actually,” the German Grenadier glumly groaned.

“She’ll just tip it out, though,” the Scotswoman whined.

“Just give her the glass.” Lester said tiredly.

“You in charge of the nameless squad?” Christoffer asked Lester with a small smirk. “Seems like you’re carrying the great burden of leadership on your shoulders.”

The Specialist started. “What, me? I can’t control any of these people. Much less her.” He indicated Bonnie.

“That’s why I’m the one in charge,” Bonnie said proudly, temporarily releasing Samara from her hold. “None of the others can control me, so I control the-” She yelped as the Juggernaut darted a hand in, grabbed the glass, and wrenched it out of her hand in few swift movements. Samara relaxed slightly then, her immediate future now back in her own hands. “How the hell did you move that fast?” The Grenadier asked incredulously.

The Juggernaut shrugged. “Former occupation taught me a lot about CQC,” she explained.

“Which was?” Maxwell questioned with an air of curiosity.

“Information gatherer for the Resistance,” Samara answered lightly.

“Obviously not a good one,” Bonnie countered. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have had to haul your ass out of that cell.”

“Even the best are able to make mistakes,” Arthur murmured.

“Really? One or two of ours used to be a covert operative in times past, though none of the three over here,” Christoffer specified.

“It’s not all sneaking around and looking like a badass,” the eyepatched woman noted. “Lot of nights roughing it in the wild.”

Maxwell chuckled. “We did that all the time before joining up with XCOM. Bigger resistances have their hidden bases. We were just a small mobile army of seven.”

“Used to be four at one time,” Christoffer noted.

“I prefered to work alone,” the Juggernaut said. “Easier to keep track of myself as opposed to a couple of others behind me.”

“You better get used to that,” Lester said. “You’ll be out front most of the time, after all.”

“Yeah, if that’s your M.O. you probably shouldn’t have been molded into a defensive role,” Heinrich pointed out.

“It was either that or start learning how to use a sniper rifle,” Samara stated. “And I think Holly’s a bit defensive of her position.”

“You’ve got no competition from Stacie, she prefers her sidearms to the big guns,” Heinrich noted.

“Whereas Panzer here prefers the bigger guns,” Maxwell interjected. “Though I have to say, using an Anti-Tank Rifle seems kind of wrong for the descendant of someone who built tanks for the glorious third-”

“-shut up,” Heinrich in turn interrupted.

Lester raised an eyebrow, but did not comment. “I… do not believe we have been properly introduced,” he stated. “I am Matthew, but everyone calls me Lester.”

“It feels weird calling you by your first name,” Bonnie said. “Just seems… off. Wrong.”

The Specialist ignored her, and instead introduced the others by name, pointing at each in turn. “We just came down here to-” It was then he finally noticed Samuel had slipped away. “Wait, where did he go?”

“He left some time ago,” Arthur answered, not turning around. “I’m surprised you of all people did not notice.”

“I was a little busy trying to prevent a drowning,” Lester snapped.

“Yeah, he’s talking to the rest of the squad,” Chris explained. “Who knows, maybe he’ll pick up one of the girls?”

“You mean like literally everyone else?” Lester asked dryly. “I’m beginning to wonder whether this is a warship or a party boat.”

Maxwell chuckled. “Anyway, I’m Maxwell, this is Heinrich, and this is Christoffer. We’re friends with the girls talking with the rest of your band of guerrillas.” The rest of the as-yet-unnamed squad stated their names, ending with Bonnie.

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Taxor_the_First and DarkGemini24601: “Confluence, Part 3”


“...anyway, callsigns be damned for now.” Stacie glanced at Olivia, noting that Yakone had gone off somewhere for now. “Don’t give me that ‘blasphemy!’ look, they’ve probably been talking about squad shit for awhile now.” The gunslinger raised her aviators so they were atop her head rather than in front of her eyes - the dimness of the bar at this hour making the sunglasses exceedingly pointless for their normal functionality - and considered a shift of topic. “Hey, Samuel, here’s a question for you. Is there anyone special in your life right now?”

The Russian would have spat out his drink if he had one. “Wha- Uh… n-no? I…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, suddenly aware that he and Alan were the only males in close proximity. “I haven’t really…”

“What, looked?” Alan laughed and clapped his hand on his friend’s back. “Sure you have, I know you too well.”

Samuel scowled at the Ambusher. “Do I need to bring up the years you worked with Bonnie?”

“No,” Alan insisted. “No, you really don’t.”

“I don’t know, this sounds like an interesting story,” Olivia interjected with a shrug.

“Ehhh…” The Ambusher shook his head. “I’m not going to go into too much detail-”

“To preserve her honor or yours?” Samuel asked with a smirk.

“- but I used to work with her for a long time, and she’s… not as uptight as most people.” He shook his head. “And she considers nights I would consider quiet to be ‘boring’. You work out the details.”

Stacie nodded. “Yeah, I can connect the dots there. I’m not one to judge - what we all do is a dangerous way of living life, and I can understand the mentality of not wanting to waste a second of time that could be cut short at any point.”

Christine inclined her head slightly. “Huh, usually you need a few drinks before you start getting philosophical, Stacie.”

“Quiet,” the Sharpshooter shot back tersely.

“That’s a rather…” Samuel hesitated. “... shallow way of looking at life,” he finished. “No offense. I suppose it’s a case of the importance you place on… that. I know myself and an old friend don’t see eye to eye on the matter.” Even if I understood her reasons for it.

Stacie held up her hands. “Hey, I’m not saying it’s my way of viewing life. Just that I can understand why someone would want to live that way.” The Texan chuckled. “My parents weren’t strict about much, but if I started sleeping around like, uh…”

“Like an alpha wolf?” Christine offered.

“Eh… works. Point is, if I started acting completely loose they’d be pissed in ways I don’t even want to imagine.”

“Bah, don’t listen to them,” Alan said dismissively. “My mother taught me pretty much everything I know about combat, then got mad at me when I wanted to join the Resistance. Haven’t spoken to her since.”

Samuel glanced at him. “She taught you because she wanted you to survive, not to seek fights,” he said.

“How would you know?”

“She told me after you left.”

“That so?” Alan turned his body around to face the Russian. “And why were you talking to my mother, hmm?”

Samuel blinked. “You are not implying what I think you are. She’s so much older than me!”

The Ambusher scoffed. “Like that would stop you. Don’t tell me you never noticed how flexible she could be-”

“Alright, that’s enough. This is getting a little too strange,” the Trooper snapped.

“I second that motion,” Christine muttered, her headphones back in her ears.

Stacie shook her head in amusement. “Alright, so desperately trying to get back to the original question, I’m going to assume Sam doesn’t have anyone, but has been discreetly looking. Can’t fault you there, seems like we have the finest women in the Resistance on this ship, present company not excluded of course.”

The Russian chuckled. “I, uh… I won’t deny that. I’d hope that extends to us men as well.”

The Texan held her chin, leaning forward and looking over the two for a moment. “Yeah, I can extend that to the men as well I suppose.”

“You suppose?” Alan asked incredulously. “Great. Thanks. Massive boost to the self confidence that is.”

Stacie grinned. “I can’t just give you absolute confirmation, that would be too easy,” she insisted, crossing her arms. “I do wonder what my fellow Sharpshooter’s opinion on all of this is though.”

The corner of Holly’s mouth turned upwards slightly. “Well…” she said, once again placing her arms over the shoulders of her squadmates.

“Fuck off,” Samuel muttered.

The Argentinian shrugged and removed her limb from his shoulder. “Your loss,” she said lightly, grinning. “Though I suppose I share that loss somewhat.”

“You alright there, rooskie?” Olivia asked with a neutral expression, hiding the urge to smile at his condition well.

The Russian was hiding his non-neutral expression less well. “Absolutely fine,” he managed to get out.

“Then are you just naturally a mild shade of red as a baseline and I missed that?”

“Maybe I am, and I’ve just been scared pale until now,” Samuel retorted.

“Scared of what? Us?” Stacie joked.

He glanced at everyone in turn, and sighed. “You’re all horrible people,” he said.

“To be fair I haven’t really been helping them,” Christine offered.

“You haven’t exactly been helping me either.”

“You never asked me to.”

“Oh alright, remind me to explicitly ask you for assistance the next time I have a Muton in my face,” Samuel remarked. “Otherwise I guess it’ll be my problem.”

Christine frowned, turning away from him. “That’s a completely… different scenario,” she mumbled. “I wouldn’t just let you die in battle,” she whispered, unnerved.

“Way to ruin the mood, you prick,” Alan said, smacking the Russian at the base of his head.

“To… be fair, he couldn’t have known that would… set her off,” Olivia enjoined more calmly, as the seated Specialist’s music to her side became dimly audible, turned up to drown them out completely.

“She had some rough missions in the past or something?” Holly asked, her tone oddly gently.

“She joined up with our team about a year ago,” Olivia responded. “I won’t say too much of it to respect her privacy, but… she used to be part of a group not unlike ours. She was alone when we ran into her.”

“That’s… unfortunate,” Alan said awkwardly. “That kind of story is a lot more common than it should be.”

“Worst part is that in this case it’s not always the path we choose,” Stacie commented. “Some of us get caught up in this whole mess because ADVENT didn’t even give them the choice of blissful ignorance.”

“Again, it usually takes more for you to get philosophical,” Christine said quietly, managing a small smile.

“Damn, how do you hear through that racket?” the Sharpshooter questioned in retort.

“You underestimate me,” was the Specialist’s simple reply. Stacie smiled at that, though there was a hint of distress still for whatever reason, even though the period of unease seemed over on the surface.

“Arthur always says good ears means good eyes,” Holly mused. She shrugged. “He says a lot of things, though. I think he overplays the wise Chinese guy a bit.”

“He’s a psion, he uses a sword, and he meditates,” Alan listed. “All he needs is a beard.”

“Isn’t the helmet he wears a German one though?” Samuel asked.

The Ambusher waved a hand. “Details, details,” he dismissed.

“There are so many jokes I could make right now, but you all’d be quick to label me a racist,” Stacie muttered.

“Says probably the most stereotypical person here,” Holly noted.

“Just because I fill some doesn’t mean I fill all of them. Case in point, your Chinese friend,” Stacie contested with a triumphant grin.

“And me,” Samuel added. “Everyone is surprised when I mention I don’t drink vodka.”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

Taxor_the_First and DarkGemini24601: “Confluence, Part 4”

“You don’t?!” Stacie blurted out, before putting a hand over her mouth.

The Russian chuckled. “You see? I just don’t like the stuff. Burns me the wrong way.”

“Speaking of drinks, have you seen how much Yakone imbibes when she comes here? She probably has a stronger liver than Samuel does,” Christine mentioned.

“I have not witnessed it myself, though I am sure it is a sight to behold,” Alan snickered. His face fell. “Ah shit, now I sound like Lester.”

Samuel scratched his head. “Where’d she go, anyway? I thought she just went to the bathroom or something.”

Olivia shrugged. “Beats me. She just kind of vanished. Damn Rangers.”

“You Ambushers do the exact same sort of shit!” Stacie countered.

Holly and Samuel both expected Alan to chip in. When he didn’t, they turned around to see he too had disappeared. “Oh for fucks sake,” the Sharpshooter murmured.

“You think he’s doing that to fuck with us or just bailed?” Stacie questioned.

“The former,” Alan said, his head appearing between the shoulders of Stacie and Christine. “Hey.”

The former of those two glanced back at him. “If your callsign isn’t something like ‘spookyghost’ I’m going to be disappointed.”

“And didn’t you get mad at Holly for doing this exact same shoulder thing?” Christine added. “You know, a few minutes ago?”

“I didn’t touch you,” the Ambusher grinned, retreating slightly to give them personal space once more. “And it’s Bandit. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Careful, Sam, with that sort of initiative your friend will leave you in the dust,” Olivia noted.

“Eh, he can sneak around all he wants. I’m perfectly happy being able to fire more often.” It was only after a moment that the Russian realised they might not have been talking about combat.

Stacie responded with a shit-eating grin and a simple, “Oh my.”

Samuel scowled. “You’re actually worse than my ex. I didn’t think it was possible.”

“Who was your ex?”

“Ah, you wouldn’t know her.” At least, you shouldn’t.

Holly folded her arms. “Oh, come on.” She then noticed Alan frantically making a motion across his throat. “What?”

The Ambusher mouthed the phrase ‘touchy subject’, instantly standing still when Samuel tried to figure out what the Sharpshooter was looking at.

Olivia glanced between the three of them. “As much as I’d like to clarify the mixed signals you all are giving me, I think the subject should just be dropped,” she told them just as much as she was telling Stacie, who complied.

Samuel breathed an internal sigh of relief. “So, how about that new gear?” he asked, attempting to steer the conversation in a way more favourable to him.

“I don’t like it,” Holly said.

“What? Why not?”

“Sniper rifles are my thing,” the Sharpshooter explained. “Specifically, getting shots off within a short amount of time. These new rifles need like three whole seconds the charge the shot, by which point the target has likely already hidden again. Completely messes with my method. Kills my flick-shots.”

“Good thing you don’t have to use them, then,” Olivia noted. “Me? I’m debating switching out my arc rifle for one of those monster guns.”

“You mean those giant crossbow things?” Alan asked. He smiled. “Yeah, I was tempted by them but… well, my arc rifle has saved my life on multiple occasions, the first of which was on the bridge of this very ship. I can’t let the damn thing go.”

“What do you mean the bridge of the ship?” Stacie’s eyes widened. “Were you part of the team that took this rustbucket?”

“Nah, just stopped the Commander from lashing me,” the Ambusher joked. “... yeah. Yeah, I was. Part of my stint with Bonnie.”

“If she wanted to cut you to ribbons there’d be nothing you could do about it,” Yakone declared, having returned with a green can in her hands that had a fusion of a lemon and a lime emblazoned on it.

Alan shrugged. “She seemed alright at the time. Still had all her limbs.” He shuddered. “It was a fright though, to look away and then look back to see she’d basically sat on a grenade.” He was quiet for a moment. “We won, but I keep forgetting how much of a shitshow that op was.”

“Aftereffects weren’t great either,” Yakone muttered.

“Yeah. Not denying that.”

“We have a ship now, don’t we?” Holly asked, trying to brighten the mood.

“We’ve had the ship. That’s kinda a moot point,” Yakone stated with a roll of her eyes.

“Alright then, downer,” the Sharpshooter muttered.

***​

“You know, speaking of the ship,” Christoffer interjected, taking a sip of some beer he had swiped from behind the counter. “I wonder if ADVENT knows XCOM’s mobile yet.”

“They’ll probably start to piece it together after we moved from North America to South America in one fell swoop,” Heinrich offered, having his alcohol in a mug as opposed to a can.

“They might just think the Skyranger has crazy range though,” Maxwell countered. “You never know.”

“Impossible,” Lester asserted, shaking his head. “No man-made aircraft has the range and speed necessary. We’d need to have stolen alien tech to even get close.”

“Which brings us right back to this ship,” Samara added, nodding. “It’s only a matter of time, if they haven’t already worked it out.”

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure I heard Firebrand bragging about alien tech being in the Skyranger once or twice. Those are not normal engines that thing has,” Heinrich noted. “Look plasma-based, if I had to make a guess.”

Lester scoffed. “Whatever. I’m not an engineer.”

“Yes you are,” Bonnie pointed out.

“Not an aeronautical engineer,” the Specialist clarified. “I work on my drone, and occasionally other things that need wiring up. Not Firebrand’s big toy.”

“Do we even have aeronautical engineers?” Heinrich questioned. “Or does the pilot maintain her craft like a soldier takes care of their guns?”

Lester shrugged. “Ask Shen, not me. I’m not administrative staff either.”

Samara glanced at him. “You are not a friendly person, are you?”

“Someone give her a medal,” Bonnie muttered.

“As a former Svalbard Security Captain I bestow upon you an imaginary service emblem,” Christoffer said, holding up a hand as if pinning a medal in the air.

“Still have a hard time believing you gave up the easy life for this,” Heinrich muttered.

“Maybe you and Lester will get along in temperament,” Maxwell told Panzer with a slight smile.

“Oh, eat a dick Max,” the German snapped.

“Are you suggesting I gave up the ‘easy life’ too?” Lester asked, a very slight hint of anger present in his tone.

Panzer glanced back at the Englishman, giving him a confused look. “Where do you get that from? Though, I mean… you do kind of have that aristocratic...aura… about you.”

The Specialist’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, just because I sound ‘upper class’ means I’ve been pampered my whole life?” he asked tersely. “Oh, don’t give me that look. White skin, blonde hair, British accent. Aristocratic to a ‘T’, right?” His expression turned into a scowl. “You think I’ve never had anything bad happen to me? I had to watch my parents turn their back on everything they’d ever taught me while I stood by the gate to Paris, begging them to come back! They spent years growing me, teaching me that ADVENT couldn’t be trusted, then were lured in by it’s promises anyway. I questioned everything they taught me. If that was a lie, then what else was? In the end, I realised it didn’t really matter.” He shook his head. “They abandoned me. They made the choice that their own personal comfort mattered over their son, or the ideals they’d spent a lifetime teaching him. A betrayal of the highest order.”

He sat there for a moment, staring at his glass, before realising nobody else had spoken. “Don’t let me ruin the mood,” he muttered, taking a drink and leaning back, his eyes closed.

“Uh… I have… no way to respond to that, actually,” Heinrich stated honestly.

“Then don’t,” Lester said sharply, not opening his eyes.

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Taxor_the_First and DarkGemini24601: “Confluence, Part 5”


“It is probably best we move on,” Arthur agreed. “As I understand it, you three are relatively new. How have you found XCOM?”

Maxwell seemed to recover first. “The Mavericks got inducted when we ran into Belle and Brown and found out those two had joined up with you previously. We were just guarding a supply drop for XCOM, actually, and those two brought up the idea that maybe we could join.”

“You say ‘just’, but we got into a firefight with ADVENT and even a few aliens over that pile of crates,” Christoffer reminded him.

“Ach, they’ll fight over everything,” Bonnie said dismissively. “While teaching us that humanity inherently seeks conflict.”

“I don’t think we even need to remind ourselves of their hypocrisy,” Maxwell said with a stiff shake of his head.

“Especially not me… Josephina and I had to suffer through their propaganda just to get a college education,” Heinrich elaborated. “Turning all that knowledge against them was worth it, but still…”

“Results cannot be denied,” the Chinese Ranger noted. “And of course, you keep bombarding people with ideas, and eventually they will adopt them. You were lucky to escape their grasp before that happened, you and your Josephina.”

“Well, we had it all planned out. We went into their academies knowing we were just going to bail, and made the necessary arrangements,” Panzer explained. “Though there was a scary time where her and I were out of contact.”

Chris took a sip of his beer, grinning. “Ah, everything goes back to the one and only entity Panzer loves more than Nazi Science, doesn’t it?”

“I hate you all,” Heinrich grumbled.

“Stereotyping, are we?” Bonnie asked. “Now listen here, we don’t tolerate-”

“Samurai, Scottish alcoholic, British aristocrat, African guerilla soldier,” Arthur listed. “You were saying?”

The Scottish alcoholic scowled at him. “You pipe down,” she said.

“Samurai are Japanese, actually,” Maxwell pointed out.

“Close enough,” Christoffer contested. Arthur nodded in agreement, surprisingly.

Heinrich shook his head. “I’d repeat myself, but my words would fall on deaf ears it seems.” He glanced at Bonnie. “Don’t worry about these idiots though, they do this to me all the time. They just took one part of my family’s history and made it into an incredibly stupid running joke.”

“I beg to differ on the ‘stupid’ part,” Christoffer insisted.

“And I maintain the right to view you as a fucking idiot, mighty squad leader,” Panzer returned.

“A right all of us have,” Samara agreed, eying Bonnie.

“So both of our teams have an inept leader?” Heinrich asked. “Can we set that in stone?”

“Oi! I’m not inept!” the Grenadier objected. “My way of doing things may be less subtle than some others may like, but it bloody works doesn’t it?”

“Aside from the time Samuel got lashed into a room with three aliens all by himself,” Arthur said.

Bonnie waved a hand. “Eh, that was bad luck. Happens all the time in this job.”

“This is a story I haven’t heard… mission before we arrived?” Max guessed.

“And before she arrived,” the Scotswoman added, indicating Samara. “It was the mission we picked her up, actually. Right outside her cell, there was a Muton, a Viper and a Sectoid. Kept the separation good at first, then the Viper brings out that tongue and lassoes one of my squad, right in there.”

“If it wasn’t for my intervention he probably would have passed out at least,” Lester murmured.

“We had to charge in there after that, otherwise we would have probably lost ‘im.” Bonnie continued. “Bloody mess that one was. Could have definitely gone much worse.”

“Glad I was too busy dying of hunger and thirst to notice,” Samara muttered.

“So I’m missing the part where this is a mark of your skill as a leader,” Heinrich mentioned. “Sounds like you just scraped by through luck and snap judgements.”

“Well yeah,” Bonnie said, shrugging. “Isn’t that basically how it works?”

“Thank God you aren’t the Commander,” was his reply.

“We haven’t died yet,” Arthur stated. “And it seems to work well for Samuel. He’s got an eye for opportunities that most of us lack.”

Samara glared at him. “What was that?” she asked sweetly.

The Ranger made an ‘ah’ sound. “I apologize. Poor choice of words.”

Maxwell shook his head. “Only slightly.” The Dominican sighed, getting up from his chair. “Apologies, friends, but I’ve got to get back to my room. Otherwise, there might not be a room left to get back to.”

“Kids been that troublesome lately?” Chris asked. Max just gave him a look that answered that question well, and departed.

“And now we’re down one,” Heinrich noted. Well, two, if you count the statue that has taken the place of the unnamed squad’s Specialist.

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

ZombieSplitter53 & Dahlexpert
"To Love, Victory, and Children"
Part One

Onboard the Avenger
The Bar

Since the two made friends, Lilith and Morrigan had met regularly to share drinks and stories. On this particular evening, Morrigan seemed down, barely having touched her beer.

"Hey Red, what's got you down?" Lilith asked.

Morrigan let out a long sigh. "Now that we're friends, I was thinking about why I hated you so much. I... I realized it wasn't you I hated. I mean... you quit ADVENT. It was me. You reminded me of everything I hate about myself. What... what others would hate about me if they knew more about me."

"Morrgian, if people accepted me then they will accept you.I mean I was an ADVENT captain, and you see how people trust me." Lilith patted Morrigan's back. "Don't worry my friend. People will except you, no matter what your past was."

Morrigan shook her head. "You don't understand. The... the people we are trying to 'save'. They... they know more then a lot of people think. Or at least suspect more. And I was worse. Not only was I aware of the rumors of people disappearing, but I was told by my husband, a member of ADVENT, that if I wasn't careful with Brigid, they might start... you know, messing with her genes. Or worse, they might decide she wasn't worth the effort of curing, and test her for 'usefulness' or whatever. Then off she goes. Where? I don't know. My husband didn't even know. Only the Elders know what happens to those people."

Morrigan finally took a small sip. "And yet... I still played the part of the loyal sheep. I... I had heard the stories, and decided to ignore them. I... I blindly followed the aliens and ADVENT because it was easy. Most of the people here were either fighting from the start or are like you, people who saw the injustice and started fighting. Me? It took almost losing Brigid and torture for me to get my head on straight." The sorrowful Irishwoman glanced at her daughter, in the corner with an old textbook. "If I met myself back then, I would punch my own teeth out for being so stupid."

"I don't blame you. I understand Morrigan. You did what you had to for Brigid. We're not that different. Yes, I knew about ADVENT's horrors. Hell, I saw it first hand, and did it a few times but you did what any parent would have done. Your job as a parent is to protect your child. Yo me, you did that. Yes, you went through hell for it, but you did what was needed."

Morrigan slowly nodded. "Did you ever have to... you know? 'Interrogate' some one?"

"Yeah. Quite a few times, actually. I'm not proud of the time I did with ADVENT, but I did it to help my nephew. And If I knew back then what I do now, then I would have never joined ADVENT, and still have my regular skin color." Lilith took a sip of her beer.

Morrigan nudged her. "Hey, that looks good on you. And who knows. Maybe some day, when this is all over, we'll find a way to change it back."

"I don't have my hopes up for that. But it would be nice to have my old skin back. Anyway, how is Brigid, since you love to talk about her?"

Morrigan gave her a big smile. "Not bad. She has a bit of a cold, which always has me on edge. But she had a good time at her violin performance. The Commander even thanked her for it in person. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Heh, the commander actually listening to a violin. I can't imagine that. As for the cold, don't worry about it. I'm sure she will be fine. Speaking of which, hey Brigid? Mind coming over her a minute?"

"Hmm?" Brigid placed the book to the side and walked over to her mother's friend. "Yes, ma'am?"

"It must be nice, playing you violin for the commander. I hear she liked it, were you nervous?"

"W-well... she said she only heard it after, so she wasn't there, s-so I wasn't nervous about that. But... with everyone else... um..."

"Hmm, there's no need to be worried, kid. Soon you will get used to playing around others. Once that fear is concurred, there is nothing you can't do."

"Uh huh. Um..." Brigid scratched her cheek. "How do I... beat the fear? It feels like butterflies in my tummy."

"I understand that, but I'm sure you heard this saying. 'The more you do something, the better you get at it', so eventually you will get used to it. But for now, just pretend that you're playing for your mom. When you close your eyes, just picture her, okay?"

Brigid smiled and nodded. "Okay. That is a very good idea, ma'am. Very smart. I will try it next time I perform."

"Did you get a chance to attend, Lilith?" Morrigan asked.

"No, I've been busy going to the med bay, seeing my nephew. I've also been training for a while."

"Well make sure you come to the next one," Morrigan insisted. "Or else. Right, Brigid?"

Brigid rubbed her wrists nervously. "Um... yeah. I mean... i-it you want to."

"I'll be there, honey. I would love to see you play."

"Wow, you're being very friendly, aunty. Never thought I would see you being nice to people."

Lilith turned to the entrance of the bar, and to her surprise she saw Luke. "Luke, why are you here? Shouldn't you be in the med bay?"

"The docs said I'm good to go. I'm still not combat ready, not fully, but I can walk around at least. So, who is the cute red head and kid?"

Morrigan grinned at him. "My name is Morrigan. And this is my daughter, Brigid. Brigid, say hello to..." She glanced at her daughter, and noted the familiar red cheeks and look for was giving Luke. Oh boy. Here we go again.

"Nice to meet you two. My name's Luke. Nice to meet you both."

"Luke, you could have told me you were cleared," Lilith said irritably.

"Hey, I just recently got got, so I'm here now."

"You want to have a drink with us?" Morrigan asked. "Or would that mess with your medication?"

Brigid sat in one of the chairs and stared up at the young man. "Y-you should... sit with us."

"Ugh, I could use a drink, it's been a while since I drank alcohol." Luke went behind the bar and got himself some rum, and sat next to Brigid. "So Morrigan, you look pretty young. When did you have Brigid?"

Lilith shook her head. Oh, here we go.

Morrigan's shoulders sank a bit. "Well, um... when I was... fourteen."

"Ugh... oh, well then, I'm sorry for asking you about that."

Morrigan shook her head. "Why. It's a perfectly sensible thing to wonder, isn't it? It isn't your fault I got drunk and slept with someone when I was way too young. Besides, if that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have my darling angel."

"Seems too close to home," Luke said. "It reminds me of my past and what I used to do the woman."

"What did you used to do to women?" Brigid asked innocently. "Give them children."

Luke shook his head. "No! God, no. I don't have any kids. I did some not very god things to woman that a kid should not listen to."

"Like... what?" Brigid asked, confused. "Were you mean to girl? Did you call them bad names? This boy named Kyle called me bad names, and I was upset, but my friend Jenny said it was because he liked me, but I didn't understand. Did you do bad things to girls because you liked them?"

"It's complicated kid, but yeah, in some sick and twisted way. I wanted something from them and did certain things to them to get what I wanted from them, and that's all you need to know kid."

"But... but..."

"Adult things," Morrigan told her daughter. "Never you mind. Besides, you don't want to make Luke uncomfortable, do you."

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

ZombieSplitter53 & Dahlexpert
"To Love, Victory, and Children"
Part Two

Brigid shook her head. "It's okay, Mr. Luke. You'll find someone to do those things. You are a very pretty man." Brigid blushed and looked away. "I-I mean..."

"I appreciate that kid, and I did find someone and she's leagues better then the woman I've been with. She makes me happy in a way I never thought possible."

"You finally falling for someone boy?" Lilith asked. "Alexis treating you well?"

"Yea, me and her entered the dreamscape together. She saw my memories. Well, a small glimpse of them."

Lilith slapped her forehead. "She dumped you, didn't she? Damnit Luke, why did you show her your memories?"

"We're still together. In fact, she likes me more now then she did before." Luke said while taking a swig of his beer.

Morrigan laughed and took a drink herself. "Nothing like what I assume is shared trauma to bring people close."

"I-I have someone too!" Brigid quickly said. "A boyfriend, I mean."

"First, a bit Morrgian. Second, who is this person kid? I don't see other people your age on this ship."

Brigid sat up straight and proud. "His name is Leon. Leon... um... Leon Sinclair. I met him when he was in the med bay, and he fell in love with me at first sight."

Luke looked at Morrigan. "Do I take this seriously or is she joking? Because I don't want to storm my friends room with bs information."

"Brigid has... made a special friend," Morrigan answered. "One who wishes to... keep my daughter happy. So he... is indulging her, if you know what I mean. Not wanting to... disappoint a girl with a crush."

Oh, he's playing along with her, well, that's good to know. Luke looked at Brigid. "Hey kid, have you seen any fire crackers in your like, or fire works?"

Brigid nodded. "Uh huh. They used to have these biiiig firework displays for Uni..." She glanced around, and in a lower voice, "For Unification Day."

"Well then, how about mini fireworks?" Luke opened his hand and mini explosions came out, the explosions were small enough were they were more like firecrackers.

Brigid's eyes lit up as she watched the display. "Ooooh. You do you do that!?"

"Yeah, I'm psionic. I can also do this." Luke used his other hand to summon a small flame on his fingertips.

"Whoa!" Brigid brought up her fingers, as if to mimic him, but nothing happened. "How do I get psionics? Lots of people here have them, but I can't figure out how."

"Well, most are born with it. Others, well, I'm not sure how others become psionic. I got my power because I got really sick one day, was sick for a really long time, then I just got better a few months later and was able to throw fire balls and make explosions."

Brigid scooted closer to him. "I... I get sick a lot. Maybe... maybe one day, I will wake up and be able to... to throw fireballs? Or fly? Or... control people with my mind like a comic book superhero?"

"Alright, calm down kid. Psionics can't fly... well none that I know of anyway. Besides, you could just be sick. My powers came because both my parents were psionic. Though you are young enough to become psionic. I mean I got my powers when I was fifteen. But don't hold your breath kid."

"And I'm not psionic," Morrigan added. "I was tested multiple... multiple times. Trust me."

Brigid looked down. "What about daddy?" She looked to Lilith. "ADVENT has some people with powers, right?"

"They do, but they're not on the battlefield. They are all taken to some unknown location that most other then the higher ranked in ADVENT know."

"I see." Brigid grinned at Luke. "I think your powers are really cool. You're almost as cool as Leon."

"Gee, thanks kid." Luke patted Brigid's head and smiled at her, then he looks at Morrgian "Cute kid you have here. Is it hard raising her?"

Morrigan smiled at Brigid. "She is a darling angel. Good thing. I don't know how I'd handle a troublemaker." She rubbed her daughter's head. "I just wish she wasn't so sick all the time. Not that it is your fault, of course."

"Hmm, tell me what's it like being a parent?"

Lilith shook her head. "Luke, for the love of god, drop the kid topic. You head's on straight, so why do press this?"

Morrigan raised a hand. "Lilith... if he is curious, I don't mind indulging him."

Luke nodded to Morrigan. "Thank you, now what is it like being a parent? Is it great? Is it miserable? How much responsibility is there?"

Lilith sighed. "Damnit boy, why must you go on about this?"

Morrigan took a deep breath. "It is... tiring. It is difficult. It is one of the hardest things to try and do right. But it is also the most rewarding thing in the world. Even if you are as unprepared for it as I was."

Luke smiled. "Thank you, for the information Morrigan."

"Luke, let me stop you right now," Lilith said. You're too young to have a child. Plus in this war, a new born baby will be in constant danger."

"Then I'll do it after we beat ADVENT, then I can have the family you always wanted me to have."

"It is good to think ahead," Morrigan agreed. "Just make sure you keep the present in mind, or you'll end up with a face full of plasma.

"Yeah, that's good to know. Anyway, I have some other things to attend to. See you later aunty." Luke nodded to Brigid and left the bar.

"I'm sorry about my boy," Lilith said. "He just recently started having these feelings about kids."

"This have anything to with that new girlfriend?" Morrigan asked, knowing the answer.

"Yes and no. Before the last mission he was on, he never thought about kids. After though, he's been thinking about it constantly."

Morrigan nudged her friend's arm. "He said something about you wanting him to have a big family or something."

"Me and Luke are the last of our tribe. Yeah, I want him to have a big family. But now, when we're constantly hunted, and need all soldiers on deck. Now may not be the right time."

"I agree. But I appreciate his drive." Morrigan downed the rest of her beer.

"What about you, Ms. Lilith?" Brigid asked. "Do you want kids?"

"My time for kids has passed,child. Luke is my nephew and my son. He's the only kid I ever raised."

"How old are you, Ms. Lilith?" Brigid asked with curious eyes.

"I'm forty-four kid, too old to be having kids."

"Really?" Brigid smiled at her. "You look a lot younger."

Morrigan placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Let's not embarrass mommy's friend now."

"Heh, it's fine. I'll take any compliment I can get. Especially with this gray skin and all, so thank you kid. But in all things considered, thank you Morrgian, for being around me. I appreciate it."

Morrigan held up her glass. "May we remain colleagues in arms and friends for life, until the day we die... or the day all our enemies fall before us."

Lilith nodded."Yeah. Though I'll take when our enemies fall before us."

 

[DarkGemini24601]

“The Decision, Part 1” - Atka Ipiktok & Yakone Ipiktok

0635 Hours, July 9th, 2038
The Amazon Rainforest
Onboard the Avenger
Level 4, Port Wing
Gymnasium A

Yakone stood in the gym, beating up on her usual defenseless victim - a blue punching bag hanging from a hook lowered from the ceiling. A simple shirt was lying next to a water bottle on the bench, and she was in her sports bra and a pair of basketball shorts. It was so hot in the ship that she had a hard time heeding Lily’s advice to not strip down too much. It’s early in the morning, no one’s likely to come in or anything… Her idle thoughts came to a sudden end when she noticed someone walking in wearing a gray shirt and black pants, having a distinctive blue eyes, a fauxhawk ponytail, and Native American features. The leader of XCOM was not someone to be mistaken easily for another.

The previously sole occupant of the gymn at this hour walked over to the bench, grabbing hr water bottle and a towel atop her shirt. “Something you need, Commander?” Yakone asked, rubbing the back of her neck with the towel to wipe off the sweat that had slickened her skin. The Ranger’s tone was not overtly hostile, but it wasn’t exactly inviting either.

The older woman shook her head. “I’m having Bradford handle ship affairs for today.” For which I need to remind him I am infinitely grateful. “So for now, I’m not your Commander. I’m just Atka.” Not that I know who that is anymore, she thought dryly while maintaining an outward appearance that did not reveal her private, sour thoughts.

Yakone scrutinized Atka with a suspicious look, feeling like this situation was far too similar to one that had ended poorly last month. “And are you trying to be my mother too?” the Inuit-Caucasian accused.

Atka was silent for a few moments, before finally saying, “Only if you want me to be.”

The Ranger crossed her arms. “Well, honestly, I don’t. I’m doing alright now, and while I appreciate your concern about me I’ll recover from what happened to Miriam from my own strength of will. I’ve already begun to.”

“That isn’t the only reason I’m here. I just thought that it might behoove us to stop avoiding one another. In the military sense is does us no good, but since I’m leaving my uniform off today spending time together would at least give us the chance to…” Dammit, just be straightforward. She’ll know if you try to dance around the issue. “...at least try to be a family.”

Yakone bit her lip for a moment. “You’re… serious about this? You want to hang out with me, and aren’t going to back off like a coward if tensions get high?” Since when did she care?

Is that why she always gets angry with me? It’s a matter of courage to her? Atka wondered by thought best not to ask aloud. “I am serious.”

“Well then…” Yakone rapped her fingers against each other, holding her towel. “What the hell to do… can I make a suggestion?”

“Of course. Anything you can think of to do would be better than my ideas,” Atka admitted. “Haven’t really been interested in anything outside of work for a long time.”

No kidding. “I haven’t seen you work out since we… have avoided each other in the past. Maybe you can show me your routine?”

Atka nodded. “That’d be fine. You look like you’re due for a rest anyway.”

Yakone guzzled some of her water bottle, and exhaled, setting it down. “Oh, this is nothing. I can keep going. I want to see if I can match your workout.”

“Fair enough, but if we’re going to do the same thing I suggest no psionic cheating. No biokinesis for you, no physical enhancement for me,” Atka arbitrated in a stately fashion.

“Works for me. Just lead us off,” Yakone stated. “I will warn you though, you’d better have a sports bra on. This place is overheating like an overflowing magma chamber.”

“Well, we’ve never flown the Avenger somewhere as humid as a rainforest before.” Atka got out a pair of mats and unfurled them over the metal floor. “An-Yi said she’s working on it. Give her some time.”

“How do you know? I didn’t think you two chatted a lot,” Yakone remarked snidely.

Atka sighed. “Her father was a good friend of mine, and we are friends as well,” the Inuit woman stated in sequence. “Shen probably doesn’t talk about me much around you because she doesn’t want to upset you. She’s a good diplomat.” Atka did register the warmth in the room, and lifted her shirt to leave herself in a black top, placing it on a bench for now.

“Guess so…” Yakone agreed as the two got to business. First were several sets of push-ups, which the daughter struggled with more than the mother but was too proud to admit defeat. Then were curl-ups, and several exercises involving weights. By the time they were finished Atka had sat down to rest and Yakone was spread eagle on her mat, near exhaustion.

“I… didn’t realize… how serious the Canadian army was about physical conditioning. I mean… I know… our country was awesome but… I had my moments of doubt whenever the Mexicans said we were pussies…”

“Believe me, I had the urge to deck some of those boasters when I heard that crap,” Atka growled, winding her mechanical arm. “People seem to forget we fought in two world wars.”

“You had your share of personal experience with combat, right?” Yakone questioned. “I’ve heard secondhand that you did.”

Atka nodded slowly. “Kevin tends to exaggerate though. When we had that hostage incident in Toronto I got lucky that there were no civilian casualties. My luck ran out when the invasion happened.”

“Wonder if you guys could have won, maybe the world wouldn’t be in such shit if X-COM hadn’t failed the first time around,” Yakone muttered. I wouldn’t have gotten my chance to shine but-

Atka’s expression hardened. “Don’t blame everything on us! The Council gave up and we were put in an unwinnable situation,” she snapped in a flash of anger.

Yakone glanced away, clenching a fist tightly. “That’s not what I… forget it, you’re just always looking for an excuse to belittle me.”

“I…” Atka’s features softened. “I’m sorry, Yakone.” The younger woman was silent. “Imagine if you were to fail in trying to save the world. It’s a regret that you’d carry with you the rest of your life.”

“You’re right…” Yakone mumbled, her muscles relaxing.

Atka slipped her shirt back on, pulling it out a bit to make sure it wouldn’t cling to her, and walked over to Yakone to offer the Ranger her plain white shirt. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Yakone redressed. “What… what now? Have you had enough of me already?” Maybe it’s all my damn fault, I’ve given up as easily as she has on us.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I intend to at least try and enjoy my day off, even if I fail.” And at least give you some small pittance for every time I’ve failed you.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

“The Decision, Part 2” - Atka Ipiktok & Yakone Ipiktok

Shaking her head, Yakone tried to think of what else to do. “Well, you don’t play basketball… maybe I can try you in CQC?”

“You sure you want to do that? We’re going to be throughly beat by the time we’re done.”

“We’ll be more raw and honest with each other then. Can’t mince words without the right amount of energy, can you?” Yakone said with a grin.

“Careful, that cuts both ways.”

“I’m not scared of being honest.” Okay, maybe a little, but she doesn’t need to know that, Yakone thought, maintaining her smile.

Atka shrugged, rolling her shoulders. “Alright,” she conceded. “Come at me.”

Yakone lunged forward, delivering a kick that made Atka put her arms up defensively, and then followed up with a lightning-fast flurry of jabs that Atka narrowly blocked or dodged.

She’s not pulling her punches, Atka knew. She was impressed by the combination of biokinesis, PCS enhancement, and mixture of disciplines that made Yakone a formidable opponent. Atka elected not to hold back herself, a blue glow serving as a counterbalance to the green one around Yakone. With more strength, speed, and precision, Atka charged forward herself with a set of strikes.

Yakone blocked the first, and took the second to the gut. She smirked, however, able to take the hit and deck Atka with a similar hit and a set of kicks go the legs from all sides. I can take more punishment than you give me credit.

Atka toppled to the ground, lying on her back and breathing in and out rapidly. She tried to say something but was too out of breath.

Yakone frowned. “Uh… are you alright? I didn’t actually hurt you, did I?”

“You… needed to get out the frustration. My pride can take it.” Atka smiled, pushing herself to try to get up but failing. “And I’ve proud of how far you’ve come from a scrappy girl that wanted to fight, if anything.”

“You… you are?” Yakone whispered in surprise.

Atka nodded, reaching up a bit shakily. “Could use a hand.”

“Oh, sorry.” Yakone grabbed Atka’s hand, helping her rise to her feet. “I think we both could use a shower.”

“Agreed…” Atka started walking for the showers, Yakone following behind her. The two went into the small locker room, the younger woman finding herself waiting until after Atka had undressed to do so herself.

The older woman noticed Yakone’s hesitation and decided to give the Ranger a minute, going into the shower room.

As the sound of the showerhead turning on sounded, Yakone sat down, looking at her hands. What do I want? Am I willing to give her another chance? Yakone sighed. She’s trying so hard. I can’t slouch in comparison. Maybe I am just scared that I’ll be burned again like every other time. Even if the circumstances are different this time. It took her another minute of thinking before she had made a decision. Yet as she stepped in and saw Atka peacefully washing her hair, she found herself unable to speak, her words caught in her throat as she stepped beneath a faucet and set the water to running. Come on Yakone… you have to be honest. With her, with yourself.

“Atka, I…” Yakone finally managed, her voice being stern and serious.

Apprehensively, the Inuit woman in question opened her eyes. She gave Yakone an inquisitive look but said nothing.

Yakone shook her head, and rephrased less roughly in a wavering voice, “I love you, mom.”

Atka’s eyes widened, then to her surprise watered a little. She walked over to Yakone, embracing her daughter gently. “I love you too, Yakone,” she spoke quietly, sincerely. “You’re family, you’re my daughter, I should never have convinced myself that I didn’t.”

Yakone squeezed her eyes shut, moisture from a source other than the running water running down her cheeks. “I’m sorry I’ve been so cold to you, so difficult, so…” she said.

“Don’t be. I’ve failed you so much in the past. I haven’t deserved to be your mother. But I want to be now, if you can be that generous.”

Yakone bobbed her head slightly. “I..: I can’t promise it’ll be easy… you have screwed up, and that isn’t something you can make up for in one day. But I don’t want to go through life rejecting the family I have left. And I don’t want you to be so alone. None of us do.”

Atka smiled sadly. “I’m grateful for that, I just hope you can put up with such a broken hearted person as me.”

“I’ll deal,” Yakone insisted, wiping away her tears and opening her eyes. “Could you… wash my hair?” She requested, emotionally drained.

“Of course.” Atka got some more shampoo, and started lathering Yakone’s hair. “You… do wash it regularly, right?”

“Oh no, you don’t get to do that sort of thing yet,” Yakone joked weakly. “And of course I do, I’m not some sort of hog.”

“How you keep it as spiky as you do then is beyond me,” Atka remarked with a chuckle.

“It’s a gift.”

“It does look nice. I can’t be opposed to the look you go for, I’ve only worn a dress once or twice in my life. Went to Melissa’s wedding in uniform,” Atka reminisced as she started washing the soap out of her daughter’s hair.

“Thanks… your style isn’t so bad either. I like the fauxhawk honestly,” Yakone told her mother.

“Really? I distinctly remember you calling it a ‘punk’s mop’ one time,” Atka recalled.

“I was mad… and lied. We’ve lied to ourselves and each other a lot for years,” Yakone lamented.

“We can change that, starting today,” Atka decided. She stepped back from Yakone. “I’m glad everyone’s incapacitated by the heat,” she muttered. “Wouldn’t want then getting the wrong idea about what’s going on here, what with us tearing up and…” she shook her head.

Yakone smirked. “What, you think someone would mistake us for lesbians making up after an argument?”

Atka glanced away. “No…”

“I don’t think it’d be an issue, we look too much alike,” Yakone noted.

“You think?” Atka asked, turning her head back.

“I’d like to think I got the better parts of your looks. Your hair, sorta facial structure - though I’d need a mirror to cross examine that - and of course boob size,” Yakone finished with one of her sinister smiles, visually comparing her chest to Atka’s.

Atka rolled her eyes. “You’re hopelessly shameless,” she chided. “That is how people would walk in here and get the wrong idea.”

“You’re gonna have to deal with it.”

“I suppose I am…”

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

DarkGemini24601 and ZombieSplitter53: “Swordswomen of the Alien Resistance II, Part 1”

2012 Hours, July 10th, 2038
The Amazon Rainforest
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 3, Port Wing
Room C207

Yakone laid back atop of the sheets of her bed. She glanced around the room, sighing in frustration. Quiet was never something welcome to the energetic young woman, and to have all three of her roommates MIA reminded her of how boring it was to have the room all to herself before. She couldn't come up with anything in particular to do either. Her science shift was over, and she didn't see much merit in combat training. She had something more specific in mind than general conditioning, but the stars hadn't aligned to make that session possible.

The solitude was finally broken when the room's shortest occupant stepped in, sighing as she walked to her bed. "The tedium of the safety experienced here oddly leaves something to be desired," she muttered as she turned to Yakone, and a big smile spread across her face. "Nice..."

Yakone glanced up. "Sup, Ayame? And what do you mean 'nice'?"

Ayame looked her scantily clad roommate up and answered, "I was just thinking about how incredibly attractive you are, Yakone. You must attract every guy you come across. And probably a few women too."

The Ranger sat up, shrugging. "Lily does tend to remind me to be more modest than being in my sports bra and boxers when I'm working out, even with this damnable heat. Don't see the reason to be when I'm in the privacy of my room. And if there are lesbians on this ship I am unaware of their existence thus far."

Ayame nodded. "And I'm sure you would be compelled to be more modest if you found out you were, say... working out near one, or roomed with one or something?"

Again, the Inuit-Caucasian rolled her shoulders. "Eh, I'm bad with hypotheticals and I tend to... not forget, but... just plain not consider the fact that I'm unwittingly showing off. It'd be even harder around a woman because I tend to know how guys think, not gays."

Ayame nodded in understanding. "Well, let's just hope whoever might be looking has the respect to not expect to see more, and show you the respect you deserve." Ayame turned away, as if suddenly avoiding eye contact, and returned to her bed. "So how was your day?"

Waiiiiitttt... "Boring as hell. Stacie's been out all day doing target practice and Christine had to patch up some idiot that stepped on nails." Yakone raised an eyebrow. "You weren't uh... talking about yourself there, were you?"

"What ever do you mean?" Ayame asked, staring up at the top of the bunk rather than look at Yakone.

"Because if you are like... you know... into women I really don't give a shit," Yakone told her. "I can't blame you for finding me hot anyway since I very clearly am."

Ayame laughed. "Attractive and confident. A winning match up." She turned to face Yakone. "Let's say I was. I hope you know, were that the case, I would never seek an opportunity to see that which is not my place to see. But you can't blame a girl for enjoying what has been freely shown to her."

Yakone leaned off the side of the bed. "Nope, I can't. And like I said I'm prone to forgetfulness about proper modesty."

"Is that the case?" Ayame couldn't help but grin at her. "I'm going to enjoy being your roommate, huh?"

Yakone smirked. "Guess so. I have to ask, though... how are you liking the showers? Since you probably don't take em as early as me you must get in some good sightseeing."

Ayame chuckled. "I have. There are some sights to behold. But... I try to limit myself to a quick glance or two. I'm not the most subtle of people, but I try not to be a pervert, even if the temptation is high."

Yakone rolled her eyes. "You try not to be a pervert? Lame... embrace it. Ignore it. Half of my friends think I am but so be it," the Ranger of mixed descent remarked dismissively.

"Yeah?" Kasagi grinned widely. "Alright. Thanks." She sat up and continued to smile at Yakone. "You're alright. I haven't met that many people like you. Free spirited. Openly honest. Blunt. It's refreshing in a world of two faced people, especially in this alien controlled world.

Yakone rolled back into a more normal posture so Ayame was no longer upside-down from her perspective. "Thanks, though that's just me being me, not something I consciously think about before doing."

"Works for me either way." Ayame cracked her knuckles. "So... want to do something? Fight the monotony of no missions?"

"Did you have something in mind?" Yakone questioned eagerly.

Ayame shrugged. "I wouldn't mind seeing what you can do with a sword. Too bad we have to reserve the armory to use for sword training. They really should have a place specifically for Rangers to practice.”

Yakone sat up straight, leaning forward. “I’d love to learn from you anyway, though. I’m sure we could find somewhere that I could learn from a… I’ve heard you’re practically a master from Christine.”

Ayame waved her hand dismissively. “Calling oneself a master is just something experienced swordsman call themselves to make an excuse so they no longer have to learn anything new. I am, and forever will be, a student to the trade. Though I am pretty good.”

“Well, I’ve always hoped to learn from someone who knows what they’re doing instead of scattered books, so… let’s figure out somewhere to go,” Yakone stated with a buzzing energy.

Ayame jumped off her bed and stretched. “Alright. Though you might want to get dressed. Or don’t. I’m fine either way.”

Yakone chuckled, grabbing her shirt and jeans and putting them on. “Lead the way.”

Ayame stepped out into the halls and started walking with no real idea where to go. “Well, we have a few practice swords in the armory. We’ll pick those up. And see if there is room for us there. Can I ask how long you’ve been training?”

“Well, I picked up swords about nine years ago and I’ve found guides to basic combat here and there ever since then. Problem is, most of the manuals either don’t go over everything important or… weren’t actually manuals at all. Just literature,” Yakone mumbled the last bit.

“And yet you have gathered enough skill to be a Ranger. That is something,” Ayame offered. “To be really good, you must know your weaknesses. Do you know yours? Where do you falter or lack when that sword is in your hand?”

“I certainly don’t ‘falter’ in combat,” Yakone contested, crossing her arms. “The only things I really lack are experience and formal training. I’ve been able to hold my own with what I’ve used my sword for up until now.” She smirked. “I have a knack for being able to work out what my opponent is thinking by observing their actions and then formulating an immediate plan of action from that. I’ve yet to be caught off-guard in CQC.”

“Confident. That is good… as long as it doesn’t open you up to an underestimated foe.” Ayame held open the door to the armory. “After you.”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and ZombieSplitter53: “Swordswomen of the Alien Resistance II, Part 2”

Yakone stepped in, going to retrieve a practice version of her katana that was hung up on the wall. “The lightness of these practice swords isn’t actually going to be an issue now,” she noted. “Miss my old sword but the Las-Blade has come through for me so far.”

“I’m surprised to see you use a katana,” Ayame noted, taking one herself. “I would have though you more confident with something akin to a machete. This is going to be fun.”

The Inuit-Caucasian woman shook her head. “No, it was the first weapon I came across and I stuck with it. Machete’s are Kevin’s thing, not mine. And Lily made sure those of us that used eastern swords would get Las-Blades that were at a similar angle so we wouldn’t be relearning anything.”

Ayame stepped to the side of the room, the two being the only ones there at the time. “Looks like we can practice here.” Ayame took a defensive stance. “Tell me what you see in me. Read my body movements as I approach you. I’d like to hear what you observe. “Ayame started moving forward, her motion taking her towards Yakone’s side.

“Trying to go for a side attack, maybe a slash or a jab. I’d probably defend the first attack and then try and counter with one of my own in that situation,” Yakone analyzed, her eye movements being the only visible sign that she was assessing her opponent. She didn’t squint or change posture all that much.

“Very nice. Now… attack me.” Ayame stayed where she was, holding her sword horizontally. “Hit me with all you got. Put a bit of force into it. I want to see how hard you can swing.”

“Uh… alright, but just keep in mind I can’t heal you with my biokinesis if you don’t manage to block,” Yakone forewarned her friend, before taking a swipe at the Asian woman’s blade. She attempted to use the motion from the obvious parry to push herself to her opponent’s right and take an over-the-shoulder slice down at her with the training sword.

Ayame weathered the first attack, her eyes darting about Yakone, and she stepped left in a fluid motion, bringing her sword up to block the slash. The blades shook when they made contact, and Ayame nodded. “You’re stronger then you look. Good thing I am too, or I might have not been able to stop that.”

“I mean, I’ve got the height and the physical conditioning. No offense, but you don’t… look all that strong. I’m not sure how you manage,” Yakone questioned with a slight smile showing she was both amused and bemused.

Ayame’s eye twitched ever so much. “You seem the kind of person who knows exactly what to say to get another’s blood boiling ever so much.” The petite Asian cracked her neck. “Mind if I test your defensive abilities now?”

“Hey, I only do it on purpose half of the time,” Yakone retorted, her smile not fading. “Go ahead,” she invited Ayame while taking a defensive stance that was not all that different from her offensive one.

Ayame darted to the side with incredible speed. She rushed to get behind Yakone, and sent out a diagonal slash in attempt to catch Yakone as she was turning around.

Yakone’s blade came down - albeit with halved force - just half a second after Ayame’s weapon cracked into her side. After landing her own blow Yakone stumbled back, grimacing, and a green glow that was invisible to Ayame shimmered around the spot she was hit as her self-healing kicked in.

Ayame rubbed the shoulder where she was hit and gave Yakone a curious look. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you defend properly?”

“As previously mentioned, I have biokinesis you stupid idiot. I was willing to take a hit in order to give one in reprisal,” Yakone growled. “How are you so casual about getting smacked?”

“Touchy, touchy.” Ayame rolled her shoulder. “You made a few mistakes on that one. One, if I had swung harder, and my weapon was a bit on the sharp side, your biokinesis might not be enough to heal you, or you might be left vulnerable while healing. Second, you assume your foe isn’t used to taking a pounding and might be able to brush off your attack. Besides, I thought we were testing your defense, were we not?”

“If this were actual combat I’d be in body armor to compensate for that first bit,” the Inuit-Caucasian shot back. “Don’t see how the second thing matters, and as for the third… I hardly see when it’s going to be an issue. There are only two humanoid enemies I know of that use anything approaching conventional melee weapons, and the rest of aliens with some sort of weird close quarters weapons don’t fight like people do so defense aside from armor is kind of a moot point against them.”

Ayame rubbed her brow in frustration. “I can’t… teach you unless you do as I ask. And besides, there are no enemies that fight like this… now. But what if there are in the future. What if, say… I was a member of ADVENT that you were now facing in combat. Sure, we could get lucky or retreat and prepare later. Or you could die before you get that chance because you did not prepare for it when you had a chance. Hope for the best. Prepare for the worse. Good words to live by, yes?”

Yakone sighed deeply. “Could you manage this without talking down to me? I’m not one for seniority but you are three years younger than me and it wounds my pride a little to be called incompetent by you.”

Ayame held up a hand. “I’m sorry. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself. If that is how that came across, then I misspoke. I only wished to show you some moves and teach you what I know to you. The last thing I want is for my new friend to be killed because of something I could have taught them but neglected to do when I had the chance. I like you, Yakone. And as friendly as I present myself, I don’t make friends very easily. I don’t want to lose one of the few I have.”

“Alright, alright…” Yakone shook her head. “You have kinda latched on quick for someone I’ve known for about two weeks, though,” she had to snip. “But let’s put this in context. How would you deal with, say… an ADVENT Assassin trying to hit you with a sneak attack with their sword, or a Muton trying to dismember you with one of their gigantic bayonets. And what, if anything, would you do against something like a Chryssalid, or those Reapers and Faceless if you’ve watched the mission logs.”

“Well, for many, if not most of those, one of the best things to do is dodge, which I was expecting you to do against me. When faced with a foe coming from an unseen angle, better to get out of the way then try and parry an attack you can’t see. When faced with a much larger, much stronger foe, dodging is better than trying to withstand such an attack, especially if they are big and slow and will leave themselves open. Same goes for the others… except maybe the bugs…” Ayame paced a bit, rubbing her chin in thought.

“Yeah, I’m fine with dodging things big and scary, but I don’t really see much point with the lids. They’re as fast as the devil himself… or you,” Yakone remarked with a minute shake of her head.

“Yeah… the problem with them is a lot of enemies might expect you to stand your ground, and even if they expect a dodge, they might be thrown off by the direction you move. But those… things have no expectations. They just rush you with the intent to rip you to pieces, and as you said, they are scary fast. I wish I could say I had more experience with them… but I don’t.” Ayame shrugged. “My answer to that is be as aggressive as they are when they are close, but try not to let them get close. Firearms will always be the better option against them, and trust me, you have me beat when it comes to that.”

“Well, there’s no way you could have possibly learned how to fire a gun well without an extra few years. I started ridiculously early myself. Maybe I could teach you sometime,” Yakone offered offhandedly.

Ayame let out a frustrated sigh. “My inexperience with guns is not exactly so simple,” she muttered. A bit louder, she said, “I would like that. I teach you the sword. You teach me to shoot. Sounds like a good deal to me.”

“Yep, though it is missing one thing…”

The short Asian swordswoman placed her hands on her hips. “Yeah? And what is that?”

“Eh, you wouldn’t want to hear it,” Yakone said with a shit-eating grin.

Ayame rolled her eyes. “Well, now I have to hear what it is. Come on, out with it.”

“All it’s missing is sexual favors,” Yakone finally added with a casual shrug.

Ayame’s eyebrows raised. “Oh?” She smiled. “I’m down for that if you’re offering.”

Yakone laughed, holding her sides. “I’m just screwing with you,” she admitted through chortles. “Not literally.”

“Hey, don’t toy with me.” Ayame scratched her chin. “I mean… I knew that. I was just playing along.”

“Too late to pretend like I didn’t fool you. Way too late,” Yakone taunted. “Guess I can’t be too surprised at how easy that was. I’m sure you’re still a virgin and everything.”

“Oh?” Ayame held up her training sword, motioning Yakone to practice a few blows with her. “What makes you say that?”

“The fact that you’re sixteen? Wasn’t that like… under the age of consent before the invasion? I’m pretty sure it still is in ADVENT’s lawbooks, not that I’d bother to read them,” Yakone stated, taking a slightly more defensive stance this time.

Ayame traded a few blows, not going for overly offensive but mainly shooting for them to get comfortable with eachother. “Well… I hope I don’t disappoint you, but I’m afraid that isn’t the case. Hasn’t been for a l… for a while.”

“For a l… don’t tell me…” Yakone trailed off, but didn’t let her guard down. What, did she have something like what happened to Morrigan happen to her?

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

DarkGemini24601 and ZombieSplitter53: “Swordswomen of the Alien Resistance II, Part 3”

“Don’t… pay it any mind, please.” Ayame sighed. “Let us just say I knew what I was doing, and the other individual was around the same age, so there was no law broken in that regard.”

“Not like we recognize any current laws… can I ask how it was though?”

Ayame smiled. “It was… pleasant.” Ayame ducked a blow, and swung her own, but slowly as she travelled into the depths of her memory. “I wish I could say it was meaningful, but I kinda liked them and they kinda liked me. More of a mutual, ‘hey, wanna do it?’ kinda thing. But that made it no less enjoyable. Painful at first, but after that, it was kind of like… a special kind of ice cream that everyone talks about liking, and you are now finally trying yourself, and what do you know? You like it too.”

“Hmm… I suppose I can only glean so much from that, seeing as you’re into girls and I’m not,” Yakone noted, blocking the halfhearted blows pretty easily.

“Mmm… oh, right. Of course.” Ayame tried for a more direct blow, her head back in the game.

Yakone was able to sidestep this one, but only barely. “How are you so fast?” she grumbled. “Do you secretly use physical enhancement like Atka?”

“Heh. I wish. I’m afraid I have no psionics. I can’t even see them.” Ayame slashed again, then again. “Though I might have a secret or two.”

“Oh? If I were to beat you or something, maybe I could find out what that is? How about a wager?” Yakone suggested.

“Alright. I’m up for a friendly game. But what about what I get?” Ayame shrugged. “Can’t think of anything I could get from you.”

“Well, think of something,” Yakone retorted. “I’m willing to do anything that doesn’t involved you getting to hang me off the bow of the Avenger in-flight or something equally ridiculous.”

Ayame thought about it for a moment, then smiled. “A kiss.”

Yakone rubbed her forehead. “Fine.”

“Want to settle this now?” Ayame asked, stepping back and raising her sword vertically. “Or would you rather have more time to practice.”

“I can handle you… I never said I would hold back,” Yakone replied with a grin, activating her Overdrive, the effects of which were universally visible. “You’re fast and skilled, but I’m as durable as an actual Juggernaut.”

Ayame only smiled wider. “Good. This wouldn’t be any fun if I beat someone who offered no challenge.” Ayame yelled out, and charged, jumped and slashing down.

Yakone took the blow with one of her arms, her imbued skin able to negate most of the shock, and went for a strike at Ayame’s back.

Ayame back flipped back, switching hands and shaking her sore wrist. “Okay. That might be a problem.” She went for her earlier move, running to get behind Yakone and slash her from behind.

Yakone took that hit as well, wincing slightly. “You’re pretty damn strong for someone so small too…” She spun around, trying to hit Ayame on a downstroke.

Ayame snarled a bit, and swung up, pushing the blade away and going for a leg sweep. “Don’t call me small!”

I might be making this a little unfair with even a moderate application of imbuing, but goading her will make it a victory. Oh well, sorry Ayame. “You’re pretty much tiny,” Yakone replied with a shake of her head, not falling and aiming to hit Ayame with a few hits in quick succession.

Ayame blocked, now on the defensive. “You big-titted bimbo. I’m going to kick your ass and enjoy it!” Ayame’s eyes darted about for a possible weakness, but her anger was making it hard to concentrate, Yakone, intentionally or unintentionally, stumbling upon one of Ayame’s greater weaknesses.

Yakone sighed. Okay, this is a little too easy. “Alright, you aren’t that small…”

“Oh?” Ayame scoffed. “Don’t patronize me.” The short speedster darted to the side, and shot a solid open palm to Yakone’s side, trying to work over any residual damage she had done earlier.

The hit did make Yakone wince enough that she stepped back a pace, but she tried to counterattack. “Imp!”

Ayame dropped to the ground, and reached forward, grabbing Yakone’s ankles. You use your powers, I use mine. Yakone felt an odd sensation going through her body, as if the energy was slowly draining from her body, before Ayame pulled back to try and drop Yakone to the floor.

The Inuit-Caucasian fell with a strangled ‘what the hell’, downed for the moment but trying to get back up. Ayame leaped on top of her, sitting on her lap and holding her wrists down. “God dammit… why did my power falter?” Yakone complained. “If it hadn’t you wouldn’t have won… did you do something?” she accused the Asian straddling her.

Ayame gave her an innocent look. “Me? No. You… have pressure points on your ankles. You must not have sent enough of your enhancements there. What could I have possibly done?”

“Why would I not defend my legs? I’m certain I imbued them… your kicks should have hurt more than they did otherwise,” Yakone protested standoffishly.

Ayame leaned down. “You’re not being a sore loser, are you? You made a bet. I intend to collect.”

Yakone sighed. “God… damn you… fine… but I want answers if you’re lying to me.”

“Deal.” Ayame gave her the sweetest of looks. “Close your eyes.” Yakone groaned, but complied. Ayame hesitated for a moment, not wanting to do anything that might hurt their relationship. Figuring a secret would ease that, she finally leaned down and pressed her lips to Yakone’s, giving her a slow but not too passionate kiss before crawling off her. “Th… thank you, Yakone.”

Yakone glanced away at the ceiling, her face burning from embarrassment. “You… got your victory prize… now… answers… please.”

Ayame nodded. “I, um… I have this ability.” She glanced down at her hands. “I can drain energy, life essence from people with contact. Sorry. I guess I technically cheated.”

“Not unless… you count my Overdrive as cheating.” Yakone got up, brushing herself off. “And where the hell did you learn something like that?”

Ayame took a moment to think of the best way of answering that. “I, um… I was hurt pretty pad when I was younger. Poison. Something most people wouldn’t live through. When it was over, I just found I could do it. Pretty weird, huh? Not… not something I want a lot of people knowing about.”

“Who are you, spider man? That doesn’t make any sense…”

Ayame stared down at her hands. “I’ve been trying to make sense of who… or what I am since then. Haven’t had much in the way of answers. Makes life… kinda lonely. One of the reasons I don’t make friends easily. But… what are you going to do? You just push on… and hope you’ll find a meaning to your very existence one day.”

“Well, you still have longer than me to figure yourself out, don’t you? What’s to stop you from anything else? I don’t know how psionics work any more than you know how your powers do,” Yakone replied, seeming supremely confused.

“Good point.” Ayame smiled at her. “But don’t forget. Our age is meaningless as long as those aliens are around to hunt us. Hard to live a life and search for anything, whether it be answers, a place in life, or the world’s last twinkie with them on our ass. That’s why I’m glad to be here. I just wish you guys had been around a while ago.”

“Well, we… were, but we failed the first time,” Yakone reluctantly mentioned.

“Right…” Ayame stood up. “Well… no point in dwelling on the past, right? What matters is we are here now, and we are going to win.” She offered her hand.

“Guess so.” Yakone took it, standing up, and then leaned forward with a serious expression on her face. “You are never to mention this happened to anyone at any time,” Yakone ordered Ayame.

Ayame grinned. “The part about the kiss, or the part about losing?”

“Both!”

Ayame nodded. “You got it. Come on. I could use a bite to eat.”

“As long as it’s not my… forget it.”