Darkest Dungeon 2

JOURNAL 2

I barely slept a wink last night, due to the never ending din coming from the bottom floor of the tavern.  When I arose this morning, I found myself pushing past patrons who reeked of ale and whiskey who were, at this early hour, just retiring to their beds.  As far as I am aware, they had all come to this dismal hamlet for the same reason I have, and I can only hope that whatever I may be tasked with, I will not be forced to be paired with the lot of them. Fortunately, I did not count the soldier I had met among them, so perhaps there was hope yet for at least one stalwart companion.

When I had arrived last night, it was too dark to pay much mind to the house upon the hill, and how it seemed to be cloaked in shadow.  In the light of day, however, there was no doubt that the house was of sinister character.  What is more, however, is that its shadow seemed to extend until it covered the whole hamlet, despite the fact that such a feat would be impossible, and that seemed to prove true for the countryside.  The only reasonable explanation would be that everything that fell under the manor’s view was touched by darkness, warping it and corrupting it.  I suspect that old magic may be infesting the manor and spreading outward, and perhaps this would explain the young Master Clarke’s willingness to pay good gold to purge his lands of it.

I found the apothecary with ease, a small wagon that had pulled up on the edge of the town.  Its owner was a wizened and kindly man, who was far more informative than anyone else thus far.  He had lived in this small town as a young boy, under the lordship of the elder Clarke.  It was a time of prosperity for the town, though the elder Clarke seemed to be utterly removed from the duties of lordship.  Rumors abounded about the distant lord, rumors of dabbling in the old magic. One day, when the man had just started to ‘prentice under the apothecary,  the elder Clarke drew upon the men of the town in an excavation under his great mansion, an expedition that lasted several years.  One day, he recalls, there was a great rumbling of the earth, threatening to swallow the land whole.  It stopped, and several days later, the elder Clarke fled the town in the dark of night, laughing and wailing, while the rest of the men were never seen again.  The town quickly fell into disarray and the inhabitants fled over the years, reducing the town to what it was now.  His father had been one of those that fled, and was unaware of what may have happened in the meanwhile.  He had only returned one week ago, once he heard the rumor that the young Master Clarke was returning to his ancestral homeland to finally cleanse it.

Feeling that I understood the situation better, I thanked him for the information and purchased supplies.  He was able to supply me with two tinctures of mercury, a vial of honey, maggots, leeches, and pouches with various herbs.  As he retrieved my supplies, I asked him what had become of the elder Clarke.  He replied that the elder Clarke had perished some several weeks past, in the town, though the circumstances were unknown.  Some say he was trampled under horse, others said that he finally paid for some dark bargain with his soul.  As he handed me my willow bark, he said that the small church had collected his body and had given a small service for the deceased Clarke, but were otherwise silent on the matter.

I thanked him again and departed for the tavern, surprised to see a sister from the Order of the Mended Chain within the town.  She disappeared inside the church, but her presence only further confirms the old magic.  The Order did not take up mercenary work, they only appeared from their monastery to purge the old magic from infested areas, scouring the earth of its evil.

The tavern was empty when I returned, only containing a sweeper who was attempting to clean the floor from last night.  I have retired to my quarters to prepare my medications, though that can only last for so long.  I hope the young Master Clarke arrives soon, for I can only take so much of this boredom.

Mission 41

OPERATION DEBRIEF

NAME: Black Bell
MISSION: Assault and salvage of supply UFO
LOCATION: United States
DATE: 15SEP2015

FRIENDLY FORCES
Siren 1
Siren 3
Siren 4
Siren 5
Bogeyman 2
Minotaur 2

CASUALTIES
Siren 3 – Moderate plasma burns to torso

OPPOSING FORCES
3 Mechtoids (Destroyed)
3 Sectoid Commanders (Destroyed)
2 Sectoids (Destroyed)
4 Mutons (Destroyed)
2 Berserkers (Destroyed)
2 Seekers (Destroyed)
2 Drones (Destroyed)
1 Unknown (Destroyed)

SUMMARY

Green Squad assaulted a landed supply barge in the western United States. Its mission remains unknown, but due to past intelligence gathered on alien activities, its location in rural farmland, and the presence of specimen tanks onboard, it can safely be assumed that its mission was to gather live specimens. To what purpose they would serve and where they would go remains unknown, due to the elimination of the alien base previously. Attempts at tracking enemy craft have failed and efforts to locate a second base have not gleaned anything of value.

The assault began on the western side of the UFO, with the squad immediately adopting a defensive position on the exterior of the UFO. From this position, the squad was able to successfully engage with and destroy 2 Mutons, 2 Mechtoids, 1 Berserker, 1 Sectoid, and 1 Sectoid Commander. Due to the open nature of the supply compartment of the, the squad was able to easily infiltrate the UFO, though the high hull of the UFO slowed the squad down significantly. It was during this time that a Mechtoid with Sectoid accompanying revealed itself to the squad, firing at and hitting Hackle Stacker. The squad retaliated with the fullest force possible, quickly destroying the Mechtoid. Siren 1 directed the squad into a defensive perimeter as Bogeyman 2 utilized his mimetic skin to scout ahead and discovered 2 Mutons and Berserker waiting in the fore compartment of the UFO, though the directed and controlled use of explosives destroyed them quickly. Bogeyman 2 continued his reconnaissance and discovered an unknown enemy (see attached photo). The new enemy type appears to be some sort of large, bipedal robot featuring heavy, nearly impervious armor and was accompanied by 2 Drones. Mobility and armament, at the time of this report, are unknown. Sensory capabilities seem to be unremarkable, since Bogeyman 2 was able to remain undetected at firing range. Bogeyman 2 judged what appeared to be the enemy’s armament and targeted it, potentially removing its firing capabilities, though the scientist’s report will be able to confirm this. The squad formed a firing line and unleashed its full armament on the enemy, including plasma and laser fire, ballistic rockets, and alien grenades. Its armor stood up to this assault, with each attack appearing to have a minimal effect on it. It finally succumbed to the assault before it could deploy its weapons, though the amount of time it was able to weather the assault is worrisome.

The squad cleared the rest of the compartment before moving towards the UFO bridge. En route, the squad encountered 2 Seekers, which were dispatched with ease. Upon breaching the bridge, the squad encountered 2 Sectoid Commanders who were quickly dispatched through a combination of Minotaur 2’s flamethrower and laser fire from the heavy weapon operators. The bridge was the last section of the UFO cleared, and the science team was called to salvage the UFO, which was largely intact.

The presence of this unknown enemy is both worrisome and a relief. Its size, design, and heavy armor all point to it being a considerable piece of ordnance. I hope that the research department can glean something of value during its autopsy, including its full combat capabilities. It is also a strong signal for XCOM to make the final step towards plasma weaponry, deploying both heavy plasma and alloy cannons, since our current mix of laser/plasma seems dangerously close to being inadequate, especially if we were to ever encounter multiples of them. However, it is worth noting that since it is such a considerable weapon, it is probably the last of the alien forces, meaning that they have now thrown everything they have at us. If we can destroy it once, we can destroy it again in the future. It’s a relief to know that the aliens have no more cards to play.

Signed,
COL Wolfswift

Darkest Dungeon 1

JOURNAL 1

I finally arrived at the Clarke estate today.  It would be a lie to say that I arrived via wagon.  To tell the truth, the wagon stopped several hundred wheels from the estate, refusing to get any closer.  The roads, if you can call them such, are in ill repair if they exist at all, and I was forced to navigate the treacherous cobblestone the rest of the way.  I have not seen such proof that the peasantry lack civilization since I last followed the plague, attempting to heal the destruction left in its wake.

I had taken care not to get my hopes up about what I would find, though what appeared before me would have been below my lowest expectations.  The castle sat in ruin, seemingly shroud in shadow, perched up on a hill that offered a view of the surrounding countryside.  A squat hamlet sat at the base of the hill, a few dingy huts that surrounded a small tavern and leaky church that served as the center of what passed as life in this miserable hole.  The tavern was surprisingly full with a number of other travelers, all of whom were chasing the same rumor I was: That Master Clarke was willing to pay anyone who could help him reclaim his festered lands

I ordered supper from the tavern owner and found myself eating surprisingly delicious stew, though my ravenous hunger may have helped in making it more palatable.  I had taken a seat next to a soldier, though he denied being as much.  I asked him what the news was, and he told me what I already knew.  The young Master Clarke was due to return to his ancestral homelands any day now, he claimed, and was willing to pay good gold for anyone would join him on his quest.  I pushed to see if he had any information that was valuable, but he either didn’t have any or was keeping it to himself.  He was able to direct me towards the local apothecary to refill my depleted stock of medical supplies, which I thanked him for.  After dinner I was quick to secure a private room from the tavern owner and retired early, wanting to remove myself from the rabble downstairs.

I shall set out early tomorrow to restock my medical supplies and make an assessment of the situation to determine what opportunities may be gleaned.  I can only hope that this will not prove to be a waste of time, and that the young Master Clarke will be good to his word.

Mission 40

OPERATION DRIVING MOUNTAIN
ASSET RECOVERY
PRETORIA, SOUTH AFRICA

Gray adjusted the Geiger counter strapped to his armor, making sure it wasn’t going to fall off. He glanced around the truck stop, seeing the rows and rows trucks around the gas station, and wondered how long it would take to secure the Elerium.

“Do we know what the truck looks like?” asked Paddon.

“Negative,” replied Gray, “The only thing we know is that it’s radioactive. Thus, the counter.”

Paddon muttered something about a third nipple growing out of his eye as he slammed his fist against another. It rang hollowly, telling the two soldiers it was empty.

Gray sighed and walked past another truck, when he heard the far off explosion of a grenade followed by his earpiece crackling life with Vincent’s voice. “We’ve got Sectoids around. Minotaur 3 just obliterated 3 of them, sent a couple more scattering.”

“Roger that, we’ll keep an eye out,” replied Gray. Up ahead, Paddon slammed his fist against another truck, getting a hollow report. He shook his head and continued down the row as Gray glanced around, watching for any signs of movement. The two soldiers were approaching the end of the row of trucks but as Paddon passed by one, Gray heard the familiar click of a Geiger counter. Paddon moved up and slammed his fist against the truck, getting a dull thud in return, and said, “Hey, I think this is it!”

Gray jogged over to the truck, hearing his counter starting to click rapidly as he closed the distance. Paddon backed away from the truck as Gray called out over the radio, “Pretty sure we’ve found the load. We’re on the east side of the lot.”

“Great,” replied Ravenshaw. “Hold position, keep the truck secure. The rest of will sweep the rest of the AO. Dracula 5, Minotaur 3, have you encountered any more contacts?”

“Negative, Dracula 1. We sent them scattering, no idea where they went after.”

“Roger that.”

Gray and Paddon knelt, facing in opposite directions. Gray’s counter was still clicking slightly, so he moved up a little further, hoping to avoid any unnecessary radiation. From somewhere else in the lot, Gray heard the sound of plasma fire drift towards him and Ravenshaw said, “That’s 2 more down. Anyone else get any eyes on?”

Gray heard something rapidly approaching their row, and whispered into the radio, “Possible contacts heading our way.”

A few moments later, 2 Sectoids trotted across the open space, and Gray fired instinctively. The lead Sectoid crumpled under the plasma bolt, and from behind, Paddon followed it up with another shot, hitting the second alien. 

“We’ve got another 2 down by us,” reported Gray.

“Roger. That makes seven. How does that sound to you, Dracula 5? That about what you saw?

Gray heard the shrug in her voice as she replied, “Sure,” and Ravenshaw said, “That’s a wrap. Let’s get the science team on board to secure the Elerium, and then we’ll bug out. Just keep an eye out for any more contacts.”

Mission 39

XCOM HQ
BRIEFING ROOM

Lancaster cleared his throat, turning to face squads Siren and Dracula, who were scattered amongst the chairs in the small briefing room. An intense silence fell over the group of soldiers, and Lancaster said, “Right, so, the EXALT. We almost know where they are.”

“Which isn’t bad, considering they were Carmen Sandiego only 4 months ago,” added Coach. A few soldiers laughed, and Lancaster turned to the pictures on display.

“We’ve narrowed down their main base of operations being in either Nigeria, or South Africa. Captain Coach and I have combed through all the intelligence we’ve managed to gather, and not only have we narrowed it down to these 2 countries, we’ve managed to narrow it down to 1 specific site in each country. So there’ll be no shooting in the dark once we’re there. Both are in relatively urban environments. Needless to say, this complicates matters. We are, officially, an unofficial, shadowy, paramilitary organization who only conducts military operations in-country at the behest of the Council. An unannounced raid by us that happens while also accusing them of harboring known alien sympathizers will probably make them a bit miffed, and cause a bit of political fallout.”

“If we’re wrong, anyway,” said Coach.

“If we’re hitting both countries, aren’t we going to be wrong in one place?” asked Vincent. “Do we have a plan for that?”

Coach shrugged and said, “Just don’t get caught.”

“Oh, right, of course. Us people who don’t turn invisible. Just don’t get caught. I should’ve thought of that.”

Lancaster grinned and said, “We’ve got a plan. Colonel Ravenshaw and Colonel Wolfswift have been gracious enough to turn command over to us for these missions, and we have infiltration plans. I’ll be leading Dracula into Nigeria. We’ve narrowed down the site in Nigeria to series of warehouses in a depopulated industrial district in Lagos. Coach will be leading Siren into South Africa, where the site seems to be a tower in a commercial district. The under cover of night, the Skyranger will drop off Siren and Coach in Johannesburg, and then swing northwest to drop myself and Dracula in Nigeria on the outskirts of Lagos. We’re landing on the outermost city perimeters, so we’ll have to be quick and get to our sites before the night is up.”

“I hope you all are friends, by the way,” said Coach, “The Council is too stingy to give us a second Skyranger, so we’ll all have to crowd into the passenger bay. That’s why none of the MEC pilots are coming with us.”

From the back, Crimson asked, “Why two sites? Can’t we figure out which one is the real one?”

Exchanging a disappointed look with Lancaster, Coach said, “Not really. Once they realized we were collecting intel from their cells, they really ramped up their counter intelligence efforts. One base is a legitimate base of operations for them. The second is probably nothing more than a shack with a land line, but they’ve managed to repurpose it so an equal amount of signals of importance come from both. If we had more time, money, and manpower, we could probably decipher their encryption, but… we don’t.”

Lancaster looked around the room at the soldiers and asked, “Any more questions?” but none came. Coach clapped his hands and said, “Excellent! I love short briefs. Ladies and gentlemen, your flight departs in 24 hours. I recommend getting some sleep. It’s going to be a long mission.”

—————————————————

OPERATION RED THORN
EXALT HQ RAID
NIGERIA

Dead was crouched behind a dumpster at the intersection, wary of any approaching cars or people as the squad canvassed the series of warehouses behind him, looking for a quiet way in. After a few minutes of silence, Ravenshaw said in a hushed whisper on the radio, “Found an entrance. Everyone on me.”

Dead stood up and retreated back to where the squad was, finding them gathered outside the delivery entrance of an old warehouse. Paddon and Lancaster were up on the ledge, fiddling with something in the dark, as Ravenshaw gathered everyone around her.

“Lancaster will be on point, I’ll be on trail. We’re going to do this room by room. Look for anything that’s out of place, anything that even hints at the EXALT. Don’t shoot without positive identification. We’re not here to murder civilians.”

She looked up at the two men on the ledge and gestured towards them, and they picked up the rusting door as quietly as possible, creating a small opening. Lancaster slipped through as Gray took his place, holding it as the rest of the squad squeezed underneath. Once Dead was on the other side he grabbed the door so Paddon couldn’t come through, who grabbed it on their side. Gray and Ravenshaw were the last ones through, and they quietly dropped the door.

“Lancaster, go. We’ll be behind you. Flashlights on, don’t shoot until you know for sure.”

Dead flipped the flashlight on his rifle on, sweeping it around the warehouse. Empty shelves towered above them, stuffed with cardboard boxes filled with mechanical odds and ends. Even in the darkness, Dead saw Lancaster shimmer out of existence as the rest of the squad moved forward looking for any signs of activity. A thick layer of dust covered the warehouse floor, looking as if it hadn’t been disturbed in ages.

“I don’t think we’re in the right place,” muttered Dead. From nearby, Lancaster’s disembodied voice said, “We might be. They’re not stupid, if they’re here they’ll heavily restrict their movement.”

The squad pressed forward, sweeping their flashlights all over the darkened warehouse, wary of any signs of movement. The further the squad pressed in, the more Dead became certain they were in the wrong place.

“What we looking for, exactly?” whispered Gray, and Lancaster replied, “Anything. Hatch, hidden stairwell, ladder- hey, do you hear that?”

The squad stopped and listened, hearing the sound of someone running inside the warehouse. The squad shone their lights all over the warehouse, the echoes of the footfalls making it impossible to know where it was coming. Suddenly, Dead caught a flash of movement through the shelves and shouted, “Hey! Stop!”

The squad took off at a run, shouting at the fleeing figure as they tracked it through the shelves. The shouts and footsteps echoed all throughout the warehouse, making it impossible to track through sound, though Dead could catch fleeting glimpses of it. The squad rounded a corner and saw the person slapping on the delivery entrance they had used, trying to pry it open himself. The squad quickly surrounded the figure and Paddon pinned him to the ground, aiming his rifle at him.

“Where are they?” shouted Ravenshaw as the figure squirmed under Paddon’s knee, “Where is the entrance to the base?”

As Ravenshaw tried to interrogate the man, Dead saw the cell phone in his hand. Over the shouts, he could hear the sound of approaching sirens. “Colonel! Do you hear that?”

She suddenly fell silent, listening to the sirens. “We should go. It’s a trap,” said Lancaster.

“Yea, I know that. God dammit!” shouted Ravenshaw, kicking the cell phone out of the man’s hand. The man grunted and pulled away, as Ravenshaw drew her pistol and aimed at him.

“Colonel! Colonel, don’t. We need to go. Paddon, help me get this door open,” said Gray. He and Paddon pulled the delivery door open, creating a small crack that increased the volume of the sirens, and Ravenshaw holstered her pistol and slipped out. The rest of the squad quickly slipped out, with Dead coming last, who held the door open so Paddon and Gray could make it through. At the end of the street, the flashing lights of approaching authorities was rapidly approaching the warehouse as the squad turned and ran, heading towards the extraction point.

An hour later, the squad found themselves on the outskirts of Lagos, completely exhausted. The sun was starting to come up over the horizon, and they had hidden themselves away under a small bridge. Dead leaned against the concrete support and panted out, “I can’t believe it was a trap.”

Lancaster shrugged and wiped his neck, trying to dry off the sweat. The squad sat in complete silence, all of them trying to catch their breath and drinking out of their canteens. Eventually, Vincent asked, “When can we expect the Skyranger?”

“Dunno,” said Ravenshaw, “However long it takes for Siren to sack the actual HQ.”

Dead closed his eye and rested against the support, feeling exhaustion rapidly overcome him. The last thing he heard before he drifted off was Paddon asking, “Did anyone bring a deck of cards? We’ve got some hours to kill.”

————————————————————–

OPERATION RED THORN
EXALT HQ RAID
SOUTH AFRICA

“Oi, OBT, mind drilling a hole through this lock?”

Coach stepped aside as OBT unholstered his laser pistol and pressed it against the steel lock of the door and fired, the laser melting all the way through. OBT put his shoulder against the door and pushed, swinging open easily.

“Thanks,” said Coach, stepping through the open door. At first glance, he thought he was in the wrong place. They had tracked the suspected site to a penthouse in a Johannesburg tower, though it looked as if they had broken into the apartment of someone who was merely rich, rather than evil. Bear and tiger skin rugs adorned the floor, and exquisite and presumably expensive pottery were on display along the walls. As the entirety of Siren filed in behind him, he heard the squad give appreciative whistles and Coach heard a smack, followed by Talana hissing, “Don’t touch that!”

Suddenly, one of the doors that led to the room swung open, and the squad turned to face the new threat, only to see an unarmed man. He was wearing a pleasant, if forced, smile, and said to the soldiers, “Commander Clarke has been expecting you. Follow me, please. And, if you’d be so kind to oblige, no shooting inside. You might destroy the finery.”

He turned and gestured for the squad to follow, and everyone looked to Talana. She shrugged and followed the stranger, and the rest of the squad followed. Coach purposefully lagged behind, allowing the rest of the soldiers to get ahead of him before feeling his mimetic skin start to blend in with his surroundings. The stranger led the squad down a long wall, lined with more of the antiques. Eventually, the hallway gave way to an open compartment, with a massive hologlobe commanding the center of the room. EXALT soldiers stood around the bottom floor, and Coach saw a man sitting in a large chair, directly in front of the globe. The stranger led the squad towards it as Coach stuck to the shadows in the rear of the room, and the stranger said, “Commander Clarke, our guests.”

From his position in the back, Coach watched the man get out of the chair and exchange salutes with the squad’s escort, and then approach Talana. Coach noticed the heavy laser strapped to his back and the way Siren bristled when the man said in a booming voice, “Soldiers of XCOM, welcome! I am Commander Clarke, the overall commander of EXALT, and I am so pleased to welcome you to our humble abode. We’ve been expecting you here. We expected the squad in Lagos, as well. I’m glad XCOM doesn’t disappoint.”

“What happened to the squad in Lagos?” asked Lindan. Clarke chuckled and said, “Oh, who knows. Arrested? Dead in a firefight? Something unpleasant, I’m sure. And that cuts XCOM’s manpower down by one third, I’m not mistaken.”

Coach felt his mouth go dry at the thought of Dracula being captured, and saw the squad tense at the mention. “You are mistaken,” said Talana.

“Good try, Colonel Wolfswift. I am not. Do you think you could take the field against us so many times without us learning a thing or two about XCOM? You have three squads, each glad in different colored armor. It’s… cute. I will admit that the disappearance of Captain Thakilla and the yellow armor to be curious, but it’s not hard to imagine what had happened.”

The man continued to pace in front of the squad as Coach looked around the room, watching the EXALT soldiers start to close in on the squad. He gripped his plasma rifle, trying to find the best way out of the situation, while Clarke continued to talk.

“But that is all beside the point. It is not my desire to see XCOM destroyed. Rather, I would see it… dismantled. Our goals are polar opposites, though our means of accomplishing them are the same. You posture yourselves as the noble defenders of mankind, seeking to stop the invasion. I understand that to be a foolish, and impossible, goal. I don’t seek to stop the invasion, rather, I would accelerate it, so I- or rather, EXALT- may inherit the Earth. Once the invasion has progressed and the aliens have realized how willing we are to work with them, we shall be installed as the human overseers of Earth! Throughout the whole of human history, monumental changes have always been met with resistance, but things always get better. Why should this be different?”

“And what do you want from XCOM?” asked Talana.

“Join us. Share your technology with us. I see you have plasma weaponry, something we have had difficult replicating in our workshops. I am aware that you have found some way to harness psionic capabilities- something else we have had trouble with. If EXALT can master these technologies, it will surely show the aliens how deserving we are to be in charge of humanity, of how worthy we are.”

As Coach listened to Clarke drone on, he quietly slipped his plasma rifle over his back, pulling a smoke grenade off his belt.

“No,” said Talana.

Clarke recoiled as if he had been slapped, saying, “No? No? That’s all you have to say? Do you know-“

“Where’s the 6th soldier?” asked the escort. Clarke turned to him, asking, “What?”

Coach gripped the smoke grenade tighter as the escort said, “There was a 6th soldier! I know there was a sixth, he was wearing a different color!”

“Don’t be an idiot, you only walked in with-“ said Clarke, as recognition slowly dawned on his face. “Bogeyman! One of their Bogeymen are here! Where is he?” he screamed.

Coach quickly pulled the pin off a smoke grenade and rolled it towards the squad, and pulled another one to do the same. As both grenades bounced along the ground towards the squad, Clarke screamed, “Kill them! Kill them!” and the grenades detonated, filling the hall with smoke. Laser fire erupted all over the room as Siren fell backwards, taking cover behind whatever they could, when Clarke suddenly charged through the smoke and straight towards Coach, who fired two plasma bolts into him. He fell backwards, a smoking hole in his chest, and Talana shouted, “Spread out! Form a perimeter! Don’t let them get the drop on us!”

—————————————————————–
OPERATION RED THORN
EXALT HQ RAID
SOUTH AFRICA

“Clarke is shot!”

“Commander is down!”

“Fan out, find them!”

As the smoke filled the situation, Siren slowly pulled back, trying to find a concealed position. The EXALT were jumpy, firing stray lasers wildly, though Crimson was relieved they didn’t come too close to the squad. The squad moved in silence, moving around the outer walls. The smoke was starting to rapidly disperse and Crimson looked around, trying to find cover. Talana snapped her fingers to get his attention, and gestured for Coach, Lindan, and himself to wrap around the side wall, taking a position on a small ledge. The three soldiers moved towards the ledge as the rest of the squad held position, taking cover behind a row of planters. They ducked into position as the smoke started to fade just enough to allow vision of the rest of the room. From the floor, one of the EXALT soldiers shouted, “There they are!” and Crimson heard laser fire, though none directed towards him.

Crimson stood up and saw a group of EXALT soldiers crouching behind the hologlobe projector, completely exposed to him. He fired a barrage from his heavy laser, cutting down one of the soldiers instantly, as Lindan and Coach joined him. Their plasma fire quickly cut down two more, but a sniper deeper in the room returned fire. Crimson ducked back behind the planter as another laser pierced his cover, spraying him with soil and clay.

“Sniper!” screamed Coach, “Sniper up high!”

Crimson quickly crawled towards a nearby pillar and took cover behind it, narrowly avoiding more fire from the floor. He could hear plasma fire from the other half of the squad firing at the enemies, when OBT shouted, “We’re pinned by that sniper, I can’t get a bead!”

Utilizing his cover, Crimson closed his eyes and focused, reaching out with his mind. He could sense the minds of everyone in the room, like small bits of electricity pulling on his hair. He couldn’t tell friend from foe, but he felt for the weakest signal, assuming it would be the furthest away. He gathered together all his will and directed it towards the mind, and felt it become a hotbed of activity. The sniper shouted, but was cut off by the muted discharge of a plasma sniper, and OBT shouted, “Sniper down!”

“Rocket! Rocket on the ground!” shouted Talana, when Crimson heard the roar of a rocket firing. He heard the scream of the rocket before he saw it, when it detonated on the planter in front of Lindan. The explosion sent shrapnel flying into Crimson and the concussive force knocked him backwards, slamming his head into the ground. His vision went blurry and his ears started to ring, and he could hear shouts over the sound of gunfire. He saw Stacker’s face appear above his, and he shouted, “Crimson’s OK!” before he was suddenly gone again.

Crimson struggled to sit up, his vision swimming, and saw a bleeding Coach firing at an out of sight enemy as Stacker kneeling over Lindan. He had his hand on his neck and swore, shouting, “Lindan is dead!”

“Get Crimson to a safe place! We’ll keep them pinned!”

Stacker ran over to Crimson, unhooking the medikit of his belt. Crimson looked down at his arm and saw blood streaming out of his shoulder. Stacker pressed the kit against the wound and pulled the trigger, injecting the medical compound into him. Immediately his vision cleared and the pain vanished. Crimson grabbed his heavy laser and stood up, leaning against what remained of the pillar. The body of Lindan lie nearby, among the dust and rubble, and Crimson felt his head swim again. The sound of gunfire had diminished, and the yells from the squad told him that there wasn’t much opposition left. The gunfire suddenly stopped, and Crimson heard the sound of running footsteps. Crimson raised his heavy laser in anticipation when Talana came dashing around the corner, followed by OBT.

“They’re dead, or routed. We need to get out of here, quick. Stacker, Coach, get Lindan to the helipad, call the Skyranger. Crimson, help me find something flammable,” she ordered.

“Flammable?” asked Crimson.

“Yes! Flammable! We need to torch this place so no other idiots try and take over for them.”

As Coach and Stacker picked up Lindan’s body and started moving him towards the exit, OBT shouted, “Colonel, they’ve got a lot of these banners hanging up. They look like they’ll burn pretty well.”

“Good idea. Got a Zippo?”

Crimson glanced around at the EXALT banners hanging from the ceiling as Talana tossed OBT a lighter, and he flicked it open to apply the flame. It quickly, the bottom of the banner going up in flames, and OBT tossed the lighter to Crimson, who followed suit. Within minutes, they had set multiple banners on fire, and the fire was quickly spreading. Crimson heard the dull roar of the Skyranger outside, and Talana shouted, “That’s enough, let’s go!”

The 3 soldiers sprinted out of the building and towards the exit as smoke started to fill the halls. They burst onto the helipad and saw the Skyranger with its ramp down, and Coach and Stacker were loading in Lindan. The fire was quickly consuming the top of the skyscraper as the soldiers filed into the Skyranger, and once they were loaded Talana shouted, “Go!”

There was a lurch as the Skyranger ascended, quickly departing the skyscraper. As they flew off, Crimson watched the blaze consume the top of the tower, turning into an orange beacon in the night. The ramp started to slowly close, and Crimson turned to see Stacker closing the zipper on Lindan’s body bag. The squad looked on in solemn silence, and OBT said, “It’s a shame that the traitors are what did him in.”

Crimson nodded, unsure of what to say. Talana called up to the pilot, “Have you heard from Dracula?”

“Yea!” called back the pilot, “They’re outside of Lagos. We’re heading there now.”

Talana nodded. “Good. Get some sleep, everyone. You’ve earned it.”

Mission 38

OPERATION LOST LAW
ALIEN ABDUCTIONS
COLOGNE, GERMANY

“Alright, let’s this thing loaded up and into the crate.”

Paddon, Gray, and Vincent stood around the body of the stunned Heavy Floater, looking uneasily at each other. “I’m not touching it. What if it wakes up? I like my arms being attached to me,” said Paddon.

“Well, we need to get it in the crate to move it back to base,” replied the scientist.

“Why don’t you pick it up? I thought that was your job, or whatever,” said Vincent.

“Yea, it is. When it’s not dangerous. That’s why you guys do all the shooting and stuff, and I get to clean things up. But this thing is still alive, so it’s still dangerous. That means that it’s your job.”

The three soldiers stood around in an uncomfortable silence, when Paddon suddenly brought a hand up to the plasma scorch on his Titan armor, saying, “Oh, wow, I think that plasma shot did hurt me. Oh, yea, my ribs hurt. Gray, I think I should go sit down.”

“Get off it,” said Gray, “the shot didn’t even touch you.”

“I think it did! I think it’s one of those slow burns. I’m surprised you’ve never heard of it. I should head back to the Skyranger.”

Gray snorted as Paddon started to limp away, and Gray shouted, “You said it was your ribs!”

“Thanks for the concern!” shouted Paddon, disappearing around the corner. That left the two soldiers around the unconscious alien, with the scientist still standing a little ways away.

“We still need to load it up,” said the scientist. Gray grimaced and looked at Vincent, saying, “So, do you want to take one arm and I’ll take the other, or…?”

“Hell no!” exclaimed Vincent, “Dead stunned it, he should do it. You break it, you buy it.”

Gray shrugged and said, “Can’t argue with that. Any idea where he went?”

“Colonel tasked him with something, both of them went off somewhere.”

Gray sighed, staring at the unconscious alien, wondering what the best way to load it up was. He looked down at the alien, and then at the crate a few meters away, and then back at the Heavy Floater.

“You know, we can’t transport an unconscious alien if it wakes up before we even get off the ground.”

“Look, man, we don’t need comments from the peanut gallery, alright?” said Gray, and Vincent said, “If you’ve got such a smart mouth, why don’t you spit out an idea?”

“Why not get the MEC guy to do it? They usually do it for the other squads.”

Gray grunted in agreement, reluctantly keying in his radio, and Vincent quietly said, “Wow, I can’t believe we didn’t think of that.”

“Minotaur 3, Minotaur 3, this is Dracula 6. Can you meet us in the alley with the Heavy Floaters?”

“Roger that Dracula 6, moving.”

All three stood silently around the alien, listening to the sound of Oranis’s footsteps get louder and louder. Once he rounded the corner to the alley, Vincent said, “Hey, Oranis! We need your help. We tried picking this thing up, but it’s too heavy for us.”

Oranis grinned and said, “Yea, not a problem.”

He quickly walked over and got both arms in one of his massive fists, effortlessly picking up the alien. He dropped it into the crate, and the scientist quickly close it, sealing the crate shut.

“I’m sort of surprised you guys couldn’t pick that up,” said Oranis, “It didn’t feel that heavy.”

Gray shrugged and said, “You’ve probably got a warped sense of strength with the augmentations.”

“Hm. Yea, that makes sense. We’re pretty much done with the salvaging, by the way.”

“Sounds good. Let’s get back to the ‘ranger.”

Interlude 3

XCOM HQ

“Attention to award!”

As Maxwell issued the command, the formation of soldiers snapped to attention, and Maxwell continued. “When your name is called, please fall out and take position in front of the formation to receive your award.

“Captain Gustavo Blacksmith, to receive the Global Campaign Medal, front and center.

“Captain Mister Coach, to receive the Global Campaign Medal, front and center.

“Squaddie Hackle Stacker, to receive the Urban Operations Pin, front and center.”

The 3 soldiers fell out of formation and assembled in a small group in front of Colonel Ravenshaw, who pinned the medals to their dress uniforms. Maxwell saw she had become far more adept at it, managing to get the medals to stick on the first try. After all 3 soldiers, she stepped back. The three saluted her, which she rapidly returned and dropped, and automatically they turned and marched off, returning to their position in formation.

“At ease, at ease everyone,” Ravenshaw said, addressing the soldiers. “Thanks for coming, though I suppose you didn’t have much of a choice.”

There were a few small chuckles from the group, and Ravenshaw clapped her hands and said, “Congratulations once more to the soldiers! I felt it was about time to recognize some of our more senior troops, especially Mister Coach, who’s been conducting operations against the EXALT. Which brings me to my first point: in 72 hours, we’ll be conducting simultaneous raids against the EXALT.”

Maxwell raised his eyebrows in surprise, wondering why this was the first he had heard of it. He glanced over at Talana in formation, and saw that her look mirrored his.

“Lancaster is going to lead Dracula into Nigeria and Coach will lead Siren into South Africa, with both squads infiltrating the countries in the same day. We’ll hammer out the logistics of this the day before the raid, but know it is coming. This will be the best way to finally seek out the EXALT and finally be rid of them.”

She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts, and continued. “I appreciate everyone moving through the psionic screening. I know Dr Vahlen can be, ah, difficult to work with, though I’d appreciate if nobody told her I said that.”

Once the laughter died down, she said, “We’re sort of shooting in the dark when it comes to figuring out this psionic stuff, but as you all may know, we’ve had our first positive screening! He’s not here, currently, but Sergeant Arthur Crimson was determined to have latent psionic powers. Despite this success, the science team is trying to determine what he’s exactly capable of, which is the main motivation behind the 72 hour wait. We’re really excited to find out what exactly he’ll be capable of in the field.”

She looked over at Maxwell and said, “Do you have anything to share?”

He shook his head and said, “Negative.”

“Colonel Wolfswift?”

“No ma’am.”

“Awesome. XCOM! At the command to fall out, fall out and carry out the plan of the day. Fall out.”

Mission 37

OPERATION SWIFT HYMN
COVERT DATA RECOVERY
INDIA

Comrade aimed his plasma rifle at the exposed EXALT sniper and fired, the plasma splashing against the enemy, knocking him to the ground. A flurry of retaliatory lasers flew over his head and drove him back into cover, and Maxwell shouted, “Don’t them get that encoder! Drive them back!”

Comrade moved to the opposite side of the crate and leaned out of cover, firing at the nearest EXALT soldier. The center of the construction site had become the focal point of a pitched battle, embroiling the better equipped XCOM squad against the more numerous EXALT. Lasers crisscrossed over the site as Chimera held its ground, even though the EXALT was funnelling reinforcements in via helicopters and keeping them away from the vital encoder.

The lances of sniper fire streaked downrange, the squad’s pair of snipers discouraging movement, and Maxwell shouted, “Oranis, move up, flame them out! Cover him!”

Comrade leaned back out and fired his plasma rifle, forcing the EXALT soldiers to take cover behind the construction equipment as Oranis waded into the thick of the fighting. A trio of enemies had ducked behind cover, and once Oranis was in range he fired a stream of flammable jelly towards them, coating the whole area in fire. Comrade heard their screams as they left cover, the jelly sticking to their skin as the fell to the ground. He stared at the smoldering corpses, the smell making his stomach churn, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a pair of approaching helicopters. The rotor wash started to buffet him as one of the helicopters took position directly above the squad, the EXALT soldiers fast roping down in to the middle of the squad.

Comrade tried to shout out a warning, but was drowned out by the rotors of the helicopter. A few feet away, an enemy medic slid into view and immediately hurled himself towards Comrade, knocking his plasma rifle to the side. He grabbed the barrel of the laser rifle, trying to keep it out of his face. The barrel suddenly heated up as the EXALT soldier fired twice near Comrade’s face, hitting the asphalt under him. Comrade let go and kicked upward, pushing him away. The helicopter had departed and Comrade could now hear the sounds of fighting all around him as the squad engaged with the new arrivals, and reached for his plasma rifle. Heavy boot came down hard on his wrist, keeping him from reaching the rifle, and Comrade immediately reached down to his hip. He pulled the arc thrower up and pressed it against the soldier’s leg and pulled the trigger, flooding the soldier with electricity. He immediately fell backwards onto the asphalt, convulsing violently, and Comrade quickly picked up his plasma rifle off the asphalt. Nearby, he saw Maxwell quickly put two more plasma shots into the chest of one of their machine gunners, and Topnotch gunned down a fleeing soldier that was trying to scramble behind a nearby bus. Looking over the construction site, he saw Mister Coach and Oranis trying to defend against another push on the encoder. Another machine gunner was trying to skulk around the edge of the perimeter and Comrade aimed quickly and fired, dropping the enemy. 

Comrade turned to the EXALT soldier he had stunned, who was starting to stir. Comrade started to assess his options for restraining the soldier when he suddenly spotted a massive syringe in his fist.

“NO!” shouted Comrade, lunging towards the soldier, but it was too late. He buried the needle in his neck, injecting whatever it was in the syringe. Within moments, saliva was spilling out of his mouth and he had gone completely limp.

Oranis and Coach announced that the area around the encoder was clear, and Comrade glanced to make sure no more threats were in the area. The squad held position, waiting for more reinforcements, though none came.

“I think that’s it,” called out Maxwell, “Does anyone see anything else?”

“Negative,” replied Comrade, and the rest of the squad followed suit. Comrade approached the dead captive and knelt down, placing his fingers on his neck. Feeling no trace of a pulse, Comrade pulled the syringe out of his flesh, casting it aside. Topnotch walked over to him and said, “These guys are pretty serious about not being taken alive, apparently.”

“I didn’t even mean to,” replied Comrade, “But he pinned my firing hand and all I could get was the arc thrower out.”

Comrade stood up and walked towards the encoder site, and saw Coach connecting his laptop to the computer. He tapped fiercely away at the laptop for a few moments, pieces of information flashing across the monitor, when he hit the ground and shouted, “Oh, come on! We still don’t know where it’s at. This is crap.”

“What do you mean?” asked Comrade.

Coach disconnected his equipment and started to pack everything up and said, “Well, we know it’s not in Egypt. We’ve narrowed it down to South Africa and Nigeria.”

“Why can’t we raid both?” asked Topnotch. “It’s not like we’re lacking manpower.”

“The Council countries won’t appreciate an XCOM raid on their own soil,” said Maxwell. “If we accuse them of harboring terrorists, they’ll probably leave the Council. If we raid them unannounced, and they find out….”

“They’ll leave the Council,” finished Coach. “Though, Nigeria already pulled out…”

“If we push things with Nigeria, they might try and convince the rest of the African countries to pull out,” said Maxwell.

“What are they going to do, write an angry letter? We can end this tomorrow. We can launch simultaneous raids.”

Maxwell sighed and said, “I’ll talk to Ravenshaw about it tomorrow. Let’s just get everything together and get back home for now.”

Mission 36

OPERATION ENDURING PROPHET
ALIEN ABDUCTIONS
COLOGNE, GERMANY

“I didn’t think Germany got flooded out.”

From high up in the cockpit of Vulcan, Oranis found himself thankful for his metal legs. He effortlessly pushed up the street, the water gushing downhill, as the rest of the squad waded through the pool collecting at the bottom of the street. Oranis scanned the street, listening to the soft sound of rain splattering against hit helmet, when Maxwell said, “Oranis, keep moving up.”

He started to move Vulcan up the street, carefully scanning for any signs of enemy movement. The street had gone completely dark, though the light of a half-moon helped illuminate the surroundings. Cars had been haphazardly parked all over the street, obviously abandoned by civilians in a hurry, though it didn’t look to Oranis as if an attack had taken place. Slowly, he moved himself up the street as the squad finally slogged through the pool, spreading out amongst the street.

“See anything?” asked Maxwell, taking a position behind Oranis.

“Nothing yet,” he replied. Maxwell started to order the squad’s sniper pair into a good vantage when Oranis saw a green glow spilling out from behind a delivery truck and said into the radio, “I think we got Meld over there.”

Oranis scanned the street as Maxwell said, “Notch, go check it out.” Topnotch dashed towards the delivery truck, taking cover behind it. Oranis scanned the street once more when Notch suddenly broke cover and ran back towards the squad, hissing, “Cyberdisc!” before ducking behind a fire hydrant.

A white disc gently floated above delivery truck towards the squad, accompanied by 2 Drones. Oranis immediately responded, raising his railgun and firing, punching a hole through one of the Drones. It immediately fell to the ground and the second Drone was rapidly destroyed by the squad, but the Cyberdisc opened up, revealing its twin cannons.

“Destroy it!” screamed Maxwell. Comrade replied, “What about the Meld?” and Maxwell replied, “Take it out of my tip, I don’t care, DESTROY IT!”

The first barrage of plasma hit Oranis, the sheer force of it knocking him backwards. It missed anything vital, and he quickly regained his balance and fired his railgun in retaliation. He was hasty and the shot went wide, though the rest of the squad was quick in returning fire. As he lined up another shot, he heard heavy mechanical footsteps approaching the squad from further up the road, and saw a Mechtoid and Sectoid rushing towards the squad. Ignoring the Cyberdisc, Oranis turned towards the approaching threat and leaned forward slightly, engaging the mortar on his back. The round whistled as it flew towards the aliens, detonating between them. The body of the Sectoid flew out of the blast, landing a few meters away, though the Mechtoid continued its charge. He raised his railgun and fired once, hitting the robot, and shouted, “Mechtoid incoming!”

He held his position, firing once more at the robot, when a plasma lance pierced its leg armor, causing it stumble. Gunfire had erupted up and down the street, and from behind Oranis someone shouted, “Disc down!”

As Oranis was getting ready to fire, there was a small explosion as the Cyberdisc detonated, quickly followed by another explosion as the Meld detonated, also blowing up the delivery truck. Shrapnel and flames bounced off of Vulcan’s armor as a pair of Floaters flew into view, taking cover behind a bus stop.

“Floaters!” shouted Comrade.

“Notch, circle around that Mechtoid, we’ll draw its fire! Oranis, get a mortar on that bus stop!”

Oranis leaned forward in Vulcan and fired another mortar, watching it impact on the bus stop. The explosion destroyed its walls, sending debris flying and into the raging water and shredded the armor of both Floaters. Both snipers were continuously firing on the Mechtoid, wearing it down. It slowly lost balance, its armor a twisted mass of melted metal, when Notch slipped into position near it and fired one last barrage with his heavy laser, destroy its chestpiece. The robot fell backwards and fell into the deluge, practically being consumed by the running waters.

The sound of gunfire was quickly replaced by the sound of rain once more. Oranis held his position, keeping a careful eye out, but no retaliation came.

“Chimera 5, do you see anything from up ahead?” asked Maxwell over the radio.

“Negative,” came the reply.

“We have to clear the rest of this street. Get back into a column. Minotaur 3, you’re on point.”

“Roger dodger,” he replied, moving through the rushing waters. As he passed Notch, he couldn’t help but notice that he was drenched to the bone and was thankful for all his artificial augmentations. He stayed in the center of the street, navigating between cars, when there was a sudden burst of plasma fire. Oranis took a step backward as plasma sailed directly in front of him, and he whirled to face the new threat. He saw a Mechtoid’s cannons emerging from a nearby store, and Oranis and shouted, “Mechtoid!”

He fired 3 quick blasts from his rail gun, decimating the front wall of the store but only scoring glancing hits on the Mechtoid. The rest of the squad was shouting, firing at the Mechtoid, quickly grinding down its armor and destroying it.

Oranis reloaded his railgun, watching for any more movement inside the store, but none came. After a few minutes of nothing happened, Maxwell called out, “That should be the whole detachment. Good job. Let’s get the hell out of here, it’s going to take me 2 god damned weeks to dry out.”

Mission 35

OPERATION TWISTED PIPE
TERROR ATTACK
GUANGZHOU, CHINA

Lindan opened the office door, wincing at the creaking sound it made. He pulled it open as wide as possible, propping it open with a rock. He walked in as the rest of Siren followed behind, filing into the office building. He glanced behind, wondering if Blacksmith could fit inside. Blacksmith ducked low in Vulcan, trying to squeeze through the small doorframe, and was surprisingly successful.

The squad fanned out inside the building, looking for any survivors. The aliens had razed a whole city block, thought it had been eerily quiet since the Skyranger had touched down. They hadn’t found any aliens, only the evidence of their passing, and they hadn’t found any survivors either. Lindan couldn’t see much inside the building, with only dim light filtering through the windows, and he carefully walked forward as his eyes adjusted to the dark. The squad fanned out through the office in silence, Crimson and OBT taking positions at the windows to observe the street. The office had been wrecked in the attack, with files spread flung everywhere and tables overturned. Squatting low, it looked as if the papers were slightly burnt and had been blown aside, forming a trail. He looked up and saw it led to a nearby door, which looked as if it had been snapped in two. The interior of the closet was completely dark and as he approached it, he flipped his flashlight on only to immediately regret it. He could see the plasma scores on the back wall and the bloodied bodies laid out on the floor, a sick feeling forming in his stomach. He turned the light off and said over the radio, “I don’t think there’s going to be many survivors.”

To his right, he heard a sudden gasp and turned, raising his plasma rifle. The rest of the squad had done the same, looking for the source of the sound, when Lindan saw something move from under a desk. He realized it was a person and immediately moved towards them, saying over the radio, “I need the medic over here!”

Lindan took a knee next to the man and rolled him over, already seeing a shiny wound in his chest. The man was gasping, attempting to say something in Chinese as Hackle Stacker ran over, pulling the aid bag off his back. The wounded man was shaking violently, and Lindan attempted to calm him as Stacker went to work assessing the wound.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, we’ll fix you up, just stay quiet,” said Lindan. This did nothing to console the man as Stacker went to work sealing the wound when the man started to shout in Chinese.

“Keep him quiet!” Talana hissed, though Lindan and Stacker were both unsuccessful. The man continued to shout, when OBT called from the window, “Contacts outside!”

Lindan tried to hush the man when the sound of plasma fire came from outside, shattering a window and striking the wounded civilian. Lindan looked up, feeling the adrenaline flood his body, as OBT shouted, “CONTACT!” and fired his plasma sniper rifle. Lindan took cover behind a nearby cubicle wall when he heard the sound of jet propulsion suddenly fill the office, and 3 Floaters crashed through the windows. It was hard to tell through the darkness, but Lindan suspected that these particular Floaters were more heavily armored than usual. Red and green streaks filled Lindan’s vision as he fired at the nearest alien, the plasma splashing against its propulsion system and sending it careening into the roof. The sheer power of the squad managed to quickly destroy the aliens, but as soon as they were eliminated Lindan heard the sound of propulsion from the front of the building. Through the door, he could see 3 more of the Floaters, and Talana called out, “Into the alley! Get into it!”

Lindan backed up, firing his plasma rifle at the aliens as fired into the office. He heard a ripping sound as Blacksmith tore the rear wall, creating a hole for the squad, and Lindan turned and sprinted through. In the alley he took cover behind a dumpster as the sound of the Floaters came over the roof, flying towards the squad. The first one was killed in a flurry of laser fire, dropping to the ground and landing near Lindan. The next two were more cautious, though flying through the air they were incredibly exposed, falling to the combined fire just as quickly. Suddenly, he felt a wave of heat as a plasma bolt passed by him, and he looked over to see a squad of Mutons attempting to flank them.

“Conctact right!” shouted Lindan, repositioning himself to fire on the Mutons. The squad all adjusted their position, returning fire, but it was ineffective against the aliens’ durable cover who had ducked behind a burnt out delivery truck.

“Lindan! Take Stacker and flank them through the office! We’ll hold here!” Talana shouted from behind. He glanced behind him and saw Stacker already running towards building, and disengaged to follow. They went through the same hole they had come out of, moving as quickly through the office as the debris allowed. They stayed low, under the windows, traveling parallel to the firefight. They followed the sound of the Mutons’ fire, until they were close to the end of the building and the sound of the aliens were right outside. Lindan looked up over the windowsill and saw the aliens directly outside, unaware of the soldier’s presence. Lindan gestured to Stacker, removing the grenade from his belt as he followed suit. Lindan held up 3 fingers, ticking them off before lobbing the grenade through the window as it landed next to the aliens with Stacker’s grenade following immediately after. After the twin detonations, Lindan looked up and saw the Mutons fleeing their cover, getting cut down by the rest of the squad.

“Contacts down!” shouted Lindan, quickly loading a new battery into his plasma rifle. Lindan listened carefully for any new sounds, either those of enemies or those of survivors, but there was nothing, only the unusual silence that filled the block. After a few minutes passed and no further retaliation came, Talana announced, “Let’s keep it moving. Lindan, I want you on point. Keep an ear out for any survivors, that’s why we’re here.”

Lindan stood up, sweeping away the glass from the windowsill before vaulting over it, joining the squad in the street. He jogged ahead, taking point for the squad as they strung out in a column behind, with Blacksmith bringing up the rear. The eerie stillness of the air still bothered him and he couldn’t figure out why, until he realized he couldn’t hearanything. There were usually cars and the sounds of fighting in these urban environments, but there was nothing. No birds, no planes, no anything.

He reached the end of the alley and, checking all visible rooftops, sidled up to the wall on one side as Crimson got on the other, and both soldiers peered out the check the street. Crimson gave a low whistle, indicating a clear, and Lindan did the same. He stepped out into the street, gazing over the ruined buildings along the street, when he saw a flash of movement inside a small, unassuming building. He immediately took a knee, aiming his plasma rifle at the house, expecting the worse, when the door opened and revealed a male civilian. 

“We got a civilian!” called out Lindan over the radio, and waved the civilian towards him. He looked nervously down the street, refusing to exit, when Lindan gave an exasperated sigh and jogged towards the house. The civilian opened the door for him as he stepped inside, revealing 3 more scared looking people. Lindan tried to communicate with them, though all of them looked hopelessly at him as Talan said over the radio, “Siren 2, we’re sitting ducks in the street, what’s going on?”

“They’ve got 4 civilians inside here. Do we have a linguist with us? They don’t understand a word I’m saying.”

“No time, we’ve gotta get them back to the Skyranger.”

Doing his best to pantomime, Lindan was able to lead the tentative civilians into the street and towards the squad. Lindan had no idea what to do, but Talana started to rapidly give orders.

“Blacksmith, Lindan, Crimson, you’re the trail team. Stacker, OBT and I will be lead. Double time back to the Skyranger, keep the civilians between us. If we run into any X-rays, the trail team will break off and cover us.”

“Do you think the civilians will make it?” asked Stacker. Talana shrugged and said, “They don’t have a choice. Let’s go.”

The squad took off running back towards the Skyranger, with Lindan nudging the civilians until they started to keep up. Blacksmith’s heavy footfalls precluded any idea of stealth, the squad opting for speed. As the squad started to approach the alley, Lindan heard the sound of approaching propulsion and saw the silhouettes of approaching Floaters in the twilight.

“CONTACT!” shouted Lindan, turning around to aim his rifle at the approaching enemies.

“Cover us!” replied Talana, disappearing into the alley with the civilians. Lindan fired at the approaching aliens as plasma struck the asphalt next to him, forcing him into cover. Blacksmith was out in the open, the heavy sound of his railgun punctuating the plasma fire as Crimson fired a barrage from his laser fire. Lindan took aim and fired at one of the reinforced Floaters, wounding it, when a round for Blacksmith pierced its armor. It fell to the ground in a heap and Lindan turned his attention to the second Floater, only to see it destroyed by Crimson.

“We’re in the Skyranger,” came Talana’s voice over the radio, “Make it when you can.”

The 3 soldiers took one last glance around, checking for any more contacts, before slipping into the alley. They moved through the alley and then the office, getting closer and closer to the Skyranger, constantly wary of any sort of retaliation, though none came. As they approached the craft, they saw that the passenger compartment was jammed with the civilians, and Talana was standing on the ramp. There were a few crates of supplies on the ground, and Lindan looked at them for a moment, knowing what came next.

“We got a linguist from HQ to talk to these folks, and it seems like those were the last of the hostile forces in the area, according to them. We gotta get them back to HQ for debriefing, so…”

“There’s no room in the craft for me,” finished Blacksmith. Talana nodded and said, “Right. The science team is inbound to collect salvage, and local military is coming over to make sure the area is secure. Just sit tight for a couple of hours. Sorry to do this to you, but we don’t have much of a choice.”

Blacksmith nodded and said, “I understand.”

“I knew you would. Stay safe,” said Talana. She walked up the ramp as it started to close, and then the Skyranger ascended and departed, leaving the 3 soldiers by themselves. The terrible silence was broken by the sound of squealing tires and an approaching engine, as Crimson produced a pack of cigarettes from one of his pouches. He put one in his mouth and looked up at Blacksmith asking, “Got a light?”