Aliens. That elusive word that everyone knows but is so mysterious. So many possibilities. Paul, ET, Mars Attacks. The media industry made a fortune with that one word. So it was ironic that the first thing the aliens blew up when they arrived was a TV station.
Arnold McGee emerged from the restroom of the BBC building in Cologne, Germany. He took a long swig from his mug of coffee. After a lengthy conversation with his secretary, he watched the newest program being made. Then, a slight rumble shook the building. "What was that?" He asked, taking his mobile out of his pocket. He called the guard on the roof. "What's happening up there?" "Aaagh! Godgodohgodno! Please..." Well, that explained a lot. He turned, only to run into the form of... something. It raised a glowy green thing, and he died.
The next two attacks were met with military retaliation on a massive scale. Every single time, the aliens were only repelled at the cost of hundreds of lives. We needed a way to beat them. So we made one. A last stand, an international paramilitary organization. And it was called XCOM. The Xtraterrestrial Command Overseas Mission. A long name, but all it really was was 2000 personnel and $20,000 worth of fuck off. Using cutting edge technology, we made armour and weapons worth a damn. To the aliens, we were the first real obstacle they'd had. XCOM squads stopped abductions and attacks everywhere. And humanity took a stand. -Commander Bradford, XCOM hq.
Emilio "Odin" Riviera hauled himself out of bed. "Squad Alpha to skyranger bay seven. Squad Alpha to..."
"Shut up!" He screamed. Running to the hangar, he met up with the other members of his squad. Wolf, Kobayashi, Thompson, Jackson and Phillips. They put their gear together, enjoying their companionship. Grenades were checked and double-checked, assault rifles, LMGs and that bloody ridiculous shotgun Wolf insisted on using readied and loaded. Squad Bravo was in the cargo bay too, and Sgt Kirill "Thunder" Zinchenko was checking his LMG. The two groups stood in conversation for a while, checking their gear. Then squad Alpha turned and walked to the Skyranger.
The Skyranger hovered over the drop site in Zimbabwe. Contact had been lost an hour ago, and Meld readings were positive. Meld readings identified a trace element that the scientists believed to be responsible for the genetic modification on all aliens discovered thus far. It was the one thing all the aliens had in common. "Odin." The voice brought him back to the present. "Earth to Odin. We've landed."
"Okay. Secure ten, ready one and then cover."
The mission was quite easy to start with. The Sectoids moved fast, but accurate gunfire splattered green blood on the sandy road. Moving fast, they entered a warehouse at the end of a road.
Odin ducked into cover behind some crates, ignoring the blood trickling into his eye from a gash on his forehead. The Sectoids had come out of nowhere, faster than before. They had killed Wolf and Jackson before the squad could react, and Thompson was on the ground screaming and clutching at the stump where his leg should have been. Odin and Phillips took cover near the forklifts, and Kobayashi was by the door. Bullets and alien blasts flew back and forth. Odin let fly, taking the head off a Sectoid. Phillips went down, dead,but the aliens were taking casualties as well. Only two remained. One was destroyed by a headshot, and the last one took aim at Odin. It fired, but Kobayashi hurled herself in front of him. "No!" He screamed, and emptied his rifle into it. He ran to Kobayashi. The shot had drilled through her armour, and her vital organs were soup. She would probably be dead in ten seconds. "Odin..." she struggled to say, "...I'm sorry. Tell Vahlen...TX=...37. Make this war end." And she died.
Thompson survived, but he would be unfit for active duty forever. Odin told doctor Vahlen that TX=37, and she suddenly straightened up. "Yes. Yes! I could do that!" "What is it, doc?" "Come with me."
She lead him through a corridor, and they came through into a room. Lab technicians scurried around, surrounding a suit in the centre. The suit was massive. On one arm was a flamethrower, and the other held a rocket launcher. "Holy crap." Said Odin. "Indeed." Said Vahlen. "This is the mark one M.C.E, or emcee. Until now, we could not get it to work. We now realise that the pilot has to be modified."
"Modified?" She turned to him. "Emilio, you are our best soldier. With the formula, we can develop augmentations that will allow you to pilot this. But after the operation, you will be unable to go back. Your limbs will be replaced with titanium alloy prosthetics, wired into your nervous system with Meld. You will, effectively, cease to be human to become more." Emilio thought for a second, about Wolf and Kobayashi and all the other people who had been killed in this war. He remembered Kobayashi's last words. "When can I start?"
Emilio pulled his eyes open. He felt different. Pushing the covers off his bed, he gasped. "Okay," he said, "That's new." He tried flexing his new titanium limbs, to find that they worked perfectly. He tried standing up. Reaching his drawers, he opened them. So far, so good. He pulled on a pair of boxers and a shirt, and then reached his trousers on the other side of the room. Now. He had a grudge, a jumbo iron man suit, and some metal arms. He grinned.
The M.C.E stood in the centre of the room. Its minigun stood in a corner. Emilio clenched his fist. It clenched its fist. Emilio spoke into the radio. "Engage." And he flew.
The dropship, a modified Skyranger, flew over the crash site. A regular Skyranger flew alongside, holding Odin's new squad. Omega, the sniper, the two assaults, Tombstone and Trips, and the medic, Whiskey, were sitting in the back. XCOM interceptors had brought down a small UFO near the Canadian border, and the techies had thought it the perfect opportunity to test the emcee. A TV crew was ready to come in and film the site for a propaganda vid. One of the new camera drones was ready to take a shot of Odin landing. He deployed. Odin fell through the air, his M.C.E cushioning the landing. His minigun dropped afterwards, and he caught it. The Skyranger landed behind him. His squad moved out behind him. "Right," he said, "Let's go get this stuff."
A Sectoid peered over the top of a hill. Odin's sensors picked it up, and it died. Visual contact on the UFO. But something was happening. Outside the UFO was a golden glow, and Odin scanned it more closely. "Form up. Tombstone, Trips, flank the target." As he got closer to the glow, he saw a humanoid figure composed, according to his sensors, of pure energy. "The hell..." he heard Omega over the squad commlink. "Shut down that comm chatter." Raising his minigun, he strode forwards. The figure did not acknowledge him. As soon as he was within two feet, however, it's head snapped around and it rugby tackled him, pushing him bodily through the wall of the ship. Drawing back his arm, he punched it in the face. Then he activated his rocket launcher, and blew its head off. What was left folded in on itself and vanished in a puff of unlight. The others ran in through the outer energy field. "Well," said Omega, "The beers are on me."
Commander Bradford stood in front of the council. "We are displeased with your progress, commander. Two squads have been decimated in the past month. The XCOM project is no longer viable." "With all due respect sir, I disagree. My men are capable of fighting aliens." "We understand that. But the XCOM project is not economically viable. The orbital defense project could work." "You want to build a wall round our planet. A WALL. I do not get how that works. Sooner or later, an alien ship will come along and turn it to mush."
"Your men are being turned to mush already, commander." "We have a new advantage." "Oh, what now? Armour? Weapons?" He grinned. "Both." And he played the video.