Survivors

Central Officer John Bradford dropped his head into his hands as the door closed behind him. These interviews were exhausting, emotionally, and the hours weren't helping. He didn't think he'd managed to sleep more than a few hours since they'd managed to wipe out the attackers, and reclaim the HQ.

The worst part, the part the Commander had confided was also keeping him up nights, was the implications of the whole thing. The X-Rays knew where XCOM HQ was; maybe they'd always known. With the seemingly inexhaustible forces they were able to put on the ground, they'd launched a token offensive that had still managed to take them off guard and result in multiple casualties. The X-Rays could probably wipe out XCOM any time, but hadn't. That was the thought that woke him multiple times a night drenched in cold sweat. Why? What was their purpose in holding back?

There came a knock at the door, and Bradford took several moments to compose himself before he spoke.

"Enter," he said, raising his voice to be heard through the door. The analyst who came through the door was one of the ones he'd been dreading; He knew that today, the last day of interviews, had been stacked with painful interviewees. The man had a bruise on his face, and refused to meet Bradford's eyes. The last time Bradford had seen him, he'd noted the manic, violet glow, and had put the man down hard.

"Intelligence Officer Pidgeon, reporting as directed, Sir," the man said, standing stiffly before the table, until Bradford gestured at the seat.

"Sit down, David," he said. "This won't take too long."

"Sir," replied the analyst, sitting down, still as stiff as ever, and looking everywhere but Bradford's face.

"I want you to tell me everything you remember about the attack," he said, lifting a recording device to indicate that the interview was being recorded. "Start at the beginning, go slow."

"Sir," the analyst said again, stalling a moment while his gaze turned inward, remembering. His face scrunched in pain, but then he took a deep, slow breath, and began speaking. "I remember my screen flickering, several times. I leaned over to... Anderson, I think? To look at their terminal, see if they were having problems too. Then the hologlobe got all flickery, and..." The man trailed off, his eyes flickering up to the bruising on Bradford's temple for a second.

"Go on," Bradford replied, knowing full well what Pidgeon was remembering.

"Then... things got weird." The Australian swallowed heavily. "I heard a voice telling me to grab the fire extinguisher. It seemed important, so I did. I knew what I had to do. You-" another swallow, followed by a nearly inaudible gasp, "you needed to be stopped. So, I hit you, and you went down, but you weren't out. I came in again, but you were quick enough to stop me." The man let out a sudden, barely human sound, and squeezed his eyes shut, until tears leaked from the corners.

"It's alright, David. It happened, and it's over, but I need you to continue." Bradford didn't feel the calm he heard in his own voice. He felt the adrenaline spiking, and his jaw ached from the effort of not clenching it.

"Sir, I'm sorry," Pidgeon replied, wiping at his face, and visibly taking control of himself again. "You pushed me away, and got the gun. I was trying to get up, to stop you, but you put the gun to my head. You... said something? I don't know what you said. It was like gibberish. It- it scared me."

"You couldn't understand what I said?" Bradford nodded as he asked, as it confirmed the stories of others who'd been controlled.

"No sir," it was just garbled noise," he grinned suddenly, mirthlessly. "I recall thinking that the accent was American, though." The smile faded, replaced by the same thousand-yard stare he'd been wearing the whole time. "Then you hit me with the gun, and that's all I remember until I woke up later, in the brig."

"That's all?" Bradford waited, and when the analyst nodded, he nodded in return. "Thank you, Intelligence Officer. That's all I need from you, for now." When the man got up and moved toward the door, Bradford spoke up suddenly, surprising himself. "It wasn't your fault," he said. "I don't blame you. It was them, not you, who attacked me."

"Yes, Sir," replied the other man listlessly. His tone gave no doubts that he didn't believe the reassurances. "Thank you, Sir." Then the door closed, leaving Bradford with his thoughts again.

He suddenly remembered that IO Pidgeon had been a friend of SSG Parsons; They'd been countrymen, and had become friends shortly after the project started. He thought it likely that IO Pidgeon was carrying the guilt of that, as well. He made a note on the tablet before him to pass that on to medical.

Another knock on the door signaled another interviewee. He indicated that they should enter, and SFC Leigh Fahey walked in. He looked at her for a moment, studying her features. She looked tired, but did not allow any sign of what she was feeling show on her face. When he indicated she should sit, she slumped into the chair.

"Sergeant First Class Fahey," he said, "I'd first like to offer my thanks, and those of the Commander, for the excellent service you rendered during the attack." She nodded, her body language showing discomfort at the praise, the first emotional response she'd shown. When she didn't speak, he continued. "I'd like you to tell me what you remember from the attack."

She delivered a crisp, accurate narrative, from her arrival in Delta section with some of the base defense personnel until they'd finally declared the All-Clear. Only briefly when she described de Matos' death did her voice break for even a moment.

"Staff Sergeant de Matos was a friend of yours, wasn't she?" Bradford asked quietly.

"Yes, Sir." The brief flash of emotion from earlier was well hidden this time. This time, he was the one to sit quietly, and she was the one to finally break silence. "She was a friend, and a damned good medic, Sir. Didn't know the others that well, though, the Lieutenant, and Parsons. The security personnel who came in with me, Liles and Walters seemed like good troops. Obeyed orders." Her litany finally stopped, and she looked around the room, her posture speaking frustration. "Do you need anything else, Sir?"

"Unless you've remembered anything else to add to your report, that will be all, Sergeant." Immediately, Fahey got up and moved to the door. When she opened the door she suddenly stopped and he heard a sharply indrawn breath. Bradford jerked his head over his shoulder, his instincts keyed, but he only saw the next interviewee waiting, and it was she that had made Fahey stop in her tracks. Sergeant First Class Lieselotte Faber barely looked like the confident young woman Bradford had frequently seen around HQ. She stepped aside wordlessly and let SFC Fahey exit, then glanced in at him. Bradford stifled a sigh and nodded to her unspoken question, gesturing her to sit immediately.

"Sergeant Faber," he began as soon as she sat down listlessly. He was ready to launch into the now rote interview, but instead, he clicked the recording device off, and asked a different question. "How are you doing?"

"Sir?" she blinked and her eyes focused on his. He could see that they were red, and he had no doubt she'd been crying recently. "I am fit for combat, Sir." There was an edge to her answer, challenging him to disagree with her.

"That's not what I'm asking," he replied gently. "How are you doing? I know that Sergeant de Matos was important to you."

"Monica."

"Sorry, that Monica was important to you," he corrected.

"I will survive," she replied, her tone studiously devoid of emotion. "I will keep fighting, keep killing those bastards." The German woman looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time. "For her." her voice broke on those last words, and she dropped her eyes again, but not before he could see the sheen of fresh tears.

Bradford made a decision then, one he hoped he would not regret. He scribbled a note on the tablet "SFC Faber - Recommend immediate return to duty status." He looked up at her, and nodded, once. "I'll see to it you get your chance to do that."

"Thank you, Sir," she replied, real gratitude warring with the grief and anger in her voice. Bradford nodded again, and clicked the recording device back on. "Sergeant First Class Faber, I'd like you to tell me everything you remember about the attack. Start at the beginning, go slowly, try to remember it all."

It was a rough interview, but they got through it, even though she was shaking by the end. When the door opened, he saw SFC Fahey and SFC Colman standing outside, and they immediately took the German sniper into their arms as the door closed.

Was it all worth it? Bradford wondered. With the X-Rays launching such an attack, there was no way of knowing if they could even be beaten. Was the loss of loved ones, friends, teammates worth it? He sighed and rubbed his temples as the ever-present headache of the last several days began to throb in earnest; not even half-way through the interviews for the day. The only way to know the value of what they did would be to finish it, one way or the other. It would be the worst sort of insult to the many men and women who'd given their lives before now to do anything less.

The knock on the door signaled another interview, and Bradford squared his shoulders. There was work to be done, and there was no one else to do it.

OPERATION DRIVING JUSTICE - AFTER ACTION REPORT (27 AUG 2016 @ 1558)

OPERATION DRIVING JUSTICE - AFTER ACTION REPORT

PREPARED BY: SFC Leigh Fahey

SITUATION

o Enemy Forces:
 - 3x Thin Men, 8x Chryssalids, 3x Seekers, 2x Zombies

o Friendly Forces
 - SFC Leigh "B.A.M.F." Fahey (United States)
 - SSG Monica "Azrial" de Matos (Brazil)
 - SSG Lieselotte "Maschine" Faber (Germany)
 - SSG Rainhard "Ogre" Horn (Austria)
 - SSG Sylas "Fawkes" Maillet (Canada)
 - SSG Peter "The General" Van Doorn (United Nations)
 - SGT Ward "Shroud" Parsons (Australia)
 - SGT Simone "Tomahawk" Ribeiro (Brazil)

MISSION

o Strike Team deploys to Montreal, Canada, 27 AUG 2016 @ 1558 hrs, IOT halt a Terror Mission in progress. 

EXECUTION NARRATIVE

The Mission Alert came in at 1520 hrs. The Skyranger was wheels up by 1536, with boots down by 1558 hrs. As we approached the AO, I sent SGT Parsons ahead to get a better look, and he spotted three Thinnies moving to cover. Liesel provided overwatch, taking one of the Thinnies down with a headshot. Az moved to cover, then immediately reported contact, as a pod of Lids came charging up. Horn was ready though, and leveled 'em with a rocket, and Fawkes followed up with an AP 'nade to finish them off. The General cut loose on one of the Thinnies, but didn't manage to kill it, leaving it to Tomahawk, covering my six as I advanced, to put it down for the count. With most of the X-Rays down, I moved up to the first civilian and sent him packing toward the Skyranger.

The last Thinny hightailed it, but we didn't get a break, as another pair of 'Lids ran into sight, backed by a zombie. Az managed to wing the first Lid, send it staggering into my line of fire, where it went down hard. I heard another blaze from Maschine's snipe, and then she reported the walker was down. I was focused on the second 'Lid as it approached. I waited until I could see the slaver glistening on it's mandibles before I blew it's head clean off, then waved another nearby civilian to run for it.

In the brief respite that followed, I ordered everyone to advance, double-time. The slower we moved, the more civilians died, which we could clearly hear them doing. I took point, bursting into the store, and taking cover by the bookshelves, just as a pod of Chryssalids came careering toward me. I shot the lead monster point-blank as I backpedaled, yelling for backup. It kept coming, even after Parsons nailed it with a solid shot through the window, though it was obviously hurting. Just before it leapt at me, Horn managed to put it down with a third hit. As I got to cover, Monica winged the second 'Lid, and Fawkes tossed another AP grenade into their faces; Both were briefly stunned, but they kept moving. To make matters worse, I heard Tomahawk yelling about Seekers on our flank.

The General decided to make himself useful, and eliminated two of the Seekers. Meanwhile, the 'Lids decided to go after softer targets, one fleeing back inside the building, the other going after a civilian, just as the surviving Seeker went into stealth mode. Fawkes managed to slag the one Lid before it could reach the civilian, but the other was out of sight inside the building. Az ducked inside for a quick look, but didn't see it before I ordered her back out.

We needed to regroup, so I had everyone find cover, and check their weapons; Fortunately, as the Cryssalids burst out of the side of the building, and Tomahawk cut it down; A zombie, presumably a recent victim, followed immediately after, but The General blasted it off of its feet. When it tried to rise again, Az finished it off, and I moved toward the cowering civilian that had been the target of the recently dead 'Lids, and Shroud reported that he was taking to the rooftop for a better look. Everyone else regrouped and kept an eye out for the Seeker. When it finally appeared, trying to grab Maschine, it went down in a hail of laser fire. 

Based on SGT Parsons' motion-sensor report, we swept out to envelop the back room of the building. I ducked into the building, only to find a Thinny raising its weapon; I dodged through the doorway before it could fire, nearly crashed into a civilian, and swatted him out of the way, telling him to run. Everyone else came running on my report, while that coward-ass X-Ray decided to murder another unarmed civilian rather than coming out to play. Luckily, Van Doorn managed to get a good angle, and lit that fucker up before it could get back into cover.

We moved through the rest of the building, clearing all of the remaining civilians, and finding no more hostiles. We dropped the civilians off near a refugee camp that was forming outside of Montreal, and returned to base.


LESSONS LEARNED

o Sustain: 
 - Aggressive advancement saved lives
 - Judicious use of explosives and cross-fire

o Improve:
 - More use of the motion sensors
 - Better awareness of our flanks

A Familiar Path (24 AUG 2016)

SFC Leigh Fahey paced quietly down the corridor. She was looking for SGT Glynn, whom she'd been asked to find by CPT Lindemann. When she'd checked his bunk area and found him gone, SGT Parsons had said he'd seen Glynn and Zhu headed toward Mission Command. Her steps took her into the armory, and she felt her pace quicken as the familiar path played on her memory, reminding her of the many times she'd pounded in here, scrambling to get her gear on for a mission. She paused a moment, glancing around at the orderly rows of rifles, the crates filled with neatly packaged grenades and other devices.

She drifted to the ready rack, where the precious few laser weapons and sets of phalanx armor were laid out; she traced a finger lovingly along the bulky shape of the scatter laser that she'd carried several times already, then spent a few moments looking at the various sets of phalanx, seeing the slight irregularities where the engineers had repaired plasma burns; Each set of armor told a different story, but in amalgam, it was a story of pain, injury and triumph. With a sigh laden with meaning that is only comprehensible to those who have felt the exhilaration and terror of being in combat, she turned away from the racks of equipment, and left the armory behind.

Mission Control was a very different place. Where the armory was all orderly gleaming gunmetal and stillness, the nerve center of XCOM was chaos barely held in check, with a low hum of constant talk as the many technicians communicated with outlying stations, reconnaissance elements, and the various Council Nations. Dominating the room physically was the hologlobe, showing near-real-time intel from all over the globe, integrating the multiple flows of information from the workstations all around into a single cohesive picture which the Commander and Bradford used to coordinate XCOM's efforts.

As if thinking of him summoned him, she saw Bradford move out of the shadows on the catwalk overlooking Mission Control. He appeared to be coming from the Situation Room; The Commander probably had a tele-meeting with the shadowy Council head. Bradford leaned on the railing, looking down at the hologlobe and the busy technicians below. Leigh, in turn, looked up at him. She'd only spoken to him a few times, during debriefs, but his demeanor never wavered. Stiff, formal, professional. It sometimes seemed that XCOM ran on his willpower alone. Bradford's eyes shifted, and she realized he was looking directly back at her, and she jumped slightly. She raised her right hand toward her brow in a casual half salute, and Bradford acknowledged it with a nod before turning his eyes back to the hologlobe.

Leigh stepped off again, letting her feet carry her along the well-known route to the Hangar, as she still hadn't seen Glynn. She had a hunch that he might be in there; Many of the troopers liked to hang out in the Hangar when they were doing maintenance on the bay doors, as it was the only time other than missions that any of them saw sky. Sure enough, she could smell the distinct aroma of fresh air, so different from the machine smells of oil and smoke, and the ever-present scent of moist granite. As she entered the Hangar, Leigh turned her gaze upward involuntarily, to where she could see a few stars winking through the lowering twilight, barely silhouetting the tiny shapes of mechanics working on the door mechanism.

"Sergeant Fahey," she heard, and dropped her eyes to find SSG Zhu raising a hand in greeting, with Glynn sitting next to him, with the single S.C.O.P.E. held to his eye as he gazed upward. She walked the short distance to the stack of crates they were seated on, and waited a moment until Glynn turned his attention to her.

"SGT Glynn," she began, "CPT Lindemann would like you to drop by his room this evening, when you've some time. He wanted to get your take on something from the bridge."

"No problem," Glynn said. "I'll swing by there in a few." He passed the S.C.O.P.E. over to Zhu who also put it to his eye and turned it upward. "What do you think?" he asked after a few moments.

"What are you doing?" Leigh asked, looking upward to try to discern what they were looking at.

"We're checking out some new tweaks to the S.C.O.P.E." Glynn explained. "Engineering's working on some new features, and they asked us to give our input."

Zhu dropped the device to his lap, and nodded. "I agree," he said shortly. "the calibration is a little off. Also, did you notice that the overlay tried to give him a third arm? It was actually a wrench on his belt."

Glynn burst out laughing. "I guess the computer is trying to extrapolate for new breeds of X-Ray?" he speculated. He glanced at SFC Fahey, then reached out and grabbed the S.C.O.P.E. and offered it to her. "Take a look."

Leigh took the device, and held it to her eye, raising it up. The auto-focus hesitated for a moment, then suddenly the lip of the bay doors came into sharp focus, and she could see the workers moving around. As she watched, the light level raised gradually. "Place the center reticle over one of the workers," she heard Zhu prompt, so she did so. Within a couple seconds, the man was overlaid with an outline, and data appeared on the edge of her view, designating him as human and giving his distance; There was also appeared two dots, one over his head, another over his heart. She let out a slow, appreciative whistle.

"That's pretty impressive," she said. Wouldn't be much help for a shotgunner like me, but I can see how that'd help you make some deadly shots."

Yeah, they're working on integrating features to help line up on more critical zones on our targets. They've been making some big improvements in the Foundry." Glynn grinned wolfishly, and Leigh returned it with one of her own.

"I'll write up our observations, then send it to you for review," Zhu said as he accepted the S.C.O.P.E. back from Fahey. "I think our time here is done anyway." As he spoke, muted klaxons sounded, and the bay doors began to swing closed.

"I guess so," Glynn agreed, sliding off of the crate. "I think I'll go see what the Captain wants," he said. "You coming back to the barracks, Sergeant, or are you going to stay here?"

"I'll come," she replied with a last glance at the sky, just as the bay doors cut it off. "I'll walk with you. I wanted to talk to CPT Lindemann again anyway."

Passing Time (22 AUG 2016)

The barracks were nearly empty. Most of the troopers were down in the common room, or the gym, but here and there someone laid on their bunk reading a book, or with a laptop propped up, casting pale light onto their faces. While there weren't many people, that didn't mean the barracks were quiet. Laughter and conversation rang out from the back corner, where the overhead lights were still on, illuminating four women. On one bunk, SSG Monica de Matos sat, leaning back against the wall with another woman's head in her lap. The reclining woman, Lieselotte Faber, was writing a letter and not taking part in the conversation, though she smiled occasionally at the banter that was going on.

Another woman sat backward in a chair that had been pulled up to the bunk, her legs straddling the seat, and her forearms crossed on the back. Recently promoted SFC Leigh Fahey was a boisterous, loud woman who had a joke and a smile for nearly everyone. On a nearby table, SFC Jade Colman had a cloth spread out, with several rocks and tools laid out on top. At the moment she was examining a promising specimen, looking for the best place to strike to break it open with her rock hammer.

"Heard your last mission was an interesting one," Jade said, never taking her eyes off the stone in her hand, turning it left and right slowly.

"Oh man," Leigh said with an exaggerated eye-roll. "this Van Doorn character." de Matos chuckled as well, absently stroking Liesel's hair.

"Get down here!" she said, affecting a deeper voice, which sounded oddly charming with her Brazilian accent. "Can't let me have all the fun!" Colman glanced at her and laughed.

"Rumor says he's going to be joining us, along with his attache," she said.

"Yeah," Fahey replied. "I checked the roster this morning, after hearing about that. Must be weird for 'The General' to not be in a command position, but they are giving him a field 'promotion' to Staff Sergeant." Her wry expression and air-quotes made it clear how she felt about that decision.

"It was a strange mission overall," Monica added. "The Council intel made it sound like we'd be stepping into an absolute warzone, and the devastation on the bridge was pretty bad, but the resistance wasn't anything, really." She patted her hip, where she normally carried her medpak. "I never even had to open my kit."

"Seriously," Leigh agreed. "We had to chase that last Thin Mint clear to the end of the bridge. It was like they weren't even trying to put up a fight. Why bother blowing the bridge if they weren't going to commit?"

"Who knows why the X-Rays do anything?" Jade asked rhetorically. "Still, I wish we could have been there with you girls." Liesel looked up from her letter briefly, nodding in agreement. "But I get with the Captain just getting his RTD Orders from medical, Command was eager to get him back in the field." Monica nodded; She'd served with him for half of her missions, and she held a great deal of respect for CPT Lindemann. Leigh shrugged; She'd rather have had Jade along, but it was Command's call, not hers.

The conversation lapsed for a few minutes, the quiet broken only by the nearly silent scratching of Faber's pen on the notepad, until Colman took up her hammer, and struck the stone firmly, resulting in a sharp crack as the stone broke cleanly in half. Leigh half-rose to get a look.

"Whatcha get?" she asked, leaning to catch a glimpse around the other woman's shoulder. Jade turned around, presenting her prize with a satisfied grin.

"Amethyst geode," she declared. "A good find." When Fahey held out her hand, Colman passed the stone over, smiling as the American woman held it up to the light, the crystals casting back tiny sparkles that played across the other woman's dark skin.

"Nice," Leigh agreed, reaching out to pass it back. "Amethyst is my birth stone."

"Keep it, then," Jade offered. "I've still got the other half."

"Really?" Fahey's brows lifted in surprise.

"Absolutely," the British woman smiled, suppressing a pang as she remembered the last time she'd given away one of her stones. She wasn't going to let sad memories stop her from sharing her love of stones, though. Leigh's eyes widened further as she saw the play of emotion across Jade's face. Her friend seemed oblivious to her scrutiny, so she said nothing, merely folding her hands around the stone.

"Thank you," she added after a moment, which earned a smile from Colman.

Monica, who had been there when CPL Huismann died, knew a little of what Jade was feeling. She looked down at Liesel who was so focused on her letter that she was actually biting the tip of her tongue absently. She didn't know what she'd do if anything were to happen to Liesel. She looked up then, at Leigh, Colman, and to where she saw someone across the barracks, faintly illuminated by a laptop screen, she thought it might have been SGT Parsons.

"Where would you be," she began, then paused to formulate her thoughts. "Where would we all be if not for this war?" Colman and Fahey looked at her, but didn't say anything, realizing that she wasn't quite done speaking, despite the question. "I would probably be in Manaus, doing some training Op for some cadets or something." She looked at each of them again in turn, meeting their eyes. "I wouldn't know any of you."

"You saying this war was a good thing?" Leigh asked, a certain mischief sparkling in her dark eyes.

"Not at all," Monica answered seriously, not catching the joking nature of the question. "But good ha come of it, I think. Look at the technological advancements we're making, that one day we'll be able to share with the world. Look at us, close friends from different countries, different parts of the world." Liesel looked up at her with a soft smile that was mostly in the eyes, and Monica stopped talking, meeting her gaze.

"I agree," Jade added. "I think that the human race will come out of this stronger and more unified than we ever were."

"I certainly hope so," Leigh said with a sigh. "We've got a lot to make up for. I certainly hope that this is a start." After several moments of silence, she shook herself. "Aren't we a bunch of Serious Susans? Hey, Liesel, you almost done with that letter? Let's go hit the common room and play some pool, first round of near-beer is on me."

The others quickly agreed. The gravity of the moment was seemingly forgotten as the four women made their way out of the barracks, chatting and laughing once more.