XCOM: Viral Offense
Chapter Two
"Jackson, forget the dead bug already and get your ass over here." After the initial moment of adrenaline and the solid thirty seconds of annoyance that followed, Lt. Ramirez had officially had enough of this shit. He was seriously considering how this idiot had even gotten hired at all.
It had taken that long to pull the rookie out from under the chryssalid's messy remains and for Haddad to give him a quick check over, but the moment the rookie had realized the creature was dead he had started babbling about how they should examine it. Where the hell did they even get these people?
"But look at this, sir," he had said, poking at the dead monstrosity with the butt of his rifle even as they lifted the largest piece off of him. "It's like all cut to pieces by claws or some shit. What could have done that?"
Although the lieutenant was honestly wondering about that himself, he really didn't have time for this. "Jackson, I don't care if it's your long lost cousin, we need to get a move on. In case you've forgotten, there are civvies getting eaten by these things right now, and if you don't hurry up and move your ass I'm going to light a fire under it myself."
As if to illustrate his point, explosions once again began to punctuate the various screams and shrieks. The rest of the squad, who had been doing their actual jobs and begun to scout the surrounding block, started moving through cover towards the source of the sound. Ramirez took up the rear, ready to pop any alien that dared to raise its ugly head into his line of sight.
"Okay men," he said over the coms, "This is it. Green and Jackson, scout ahead and keep your eyes peeled for any civilians. Tell any you find to head towards the Skyranger, and for God's sake if you run into any hostiles learn the meaning of tactical retreat."
As they began to move out, taking opposite sides of the street, Ramirez addressed the sergeants. "Haddad, stay behind them and keep a lookout for any X-Rays. Be ready to use that magic of yours when the new guys start losing limbs." The lieutenant looked over at Santiago, who was already prepping his rocket launcher. "Dozer, just do what you do best."
Mercer was having fun. He had a nice pile of rockets, there were plenty of moving targets, and the occasional bug thing or flying torso that made it up to his perch gave him a chance to stretch his claws.
The buffet was a rather mixed bag, though. The flying things were all over the place, but after he consumed one of them he internally vowed to never do so again. They definitely weren't human, but that wasn't the problem. To partially quote a film he had never actually seen through more than his meals' memories, they were more machine than alien monster man thing.
He ended up spewing out various bits of machinery for at least ten minutes, but as obnoxious as it was he had to admit it was hilarious to knock more of them out of the sky with parts expelled from his biomass.
The bugs, on the other tentacle, were simply delicious, which was especially impressive considering he had no sense of taste. The only problem, though, was getting them into a position where he could consume them in the first place.
When one of them had first managed to leap onto his rooftop, he seriously underestimated its speed. The few swiping strikes he could get on it with his claws had only barely pierced its chitinous armor, and when he tried to crush it with his arms in hammer form things went from bad to worse.
With a swipe of its razor sharp legs one of his arms went flying, and before he had time to even react it had him pinned to the ground. Unfortunately for the bug, injecting the living virus with its spawn turned out to be a less than stellar plan.
Rejuvenated by the essentially force fed biomass, Mercer abandoned any pretense of subtlety and let loose with a smaller version of one of his signature "devastators". Black spikes erupted from his body, impaling the alien looming above him. It shrieked and struggled to escape, but any chance it may have had at freedom was obliterated when feeder tentacles engulfed it.
Consuming the creature was definitely an experience. Its size alone gave him plenty to absorb, but the fact that it was stuffed with dozens of what he assumed were eggs gave him plenty of fresh cells to work with. The carapace was thick and difficult to break down, but once he finished it seemed almost perfect for adding on to his armored form.
As he got back onto his feet and retrieved his severed arm, Mercer considered the alien's DNA. Unsurprisingly it wasn't human either, but it really was completely foreign to him. It was still consumable, but it would definitely take him some time to puzzle out. He really wanted to, though, since not only was its armor quite impressive but whatever toxin had been on its claws seemed like it would be quite deadly to anything that actually had vital organs.
The next time one jumped up to join him, he was ready. This time he went straight for the legs, wrapping them up with his whipfist to stop it from striking. He might have gotten a bit overenthusiastic with his claws after that, since that particular bug ended up all over the roof, and even the one after that ended up sailing a couple blocks away.
Unfortunately, as fun as it was to just blow up aliens and occasionally eat them, he should have realized it was inevitable that someone would decide to crash the party. Honestly, it was downright depressing. Here he was, not even threatening the general populace, and yet he was starting to hear the signs of a very small but incoming plane, probably full of some military strike team.
Of course they might just be coming to deal with the aliens, but either way it would ruin his fun. Besides, Mercer had learned over his seven years of life and especially those first few weeks that paranoia was always the best option.
Now he had a dilemma. He could do the smart thing and leave to avoid attention, but then the military guys would probably just get eaten or shot and then all the random civilians hiding in buildings would receive the undivided attention of the rampaging aliens.
As always in New York, there were also those civilians that decided to simply waltz through the monster infested streets. Mercer was pretty sure he'd been able to snag most of them, and had thoughtfully deposited them in an increasing crowded rooftop shed. They were still shouting at him on occasion, so he was pretty sure they were still alive.
However, if he was to leave then they were almost guaranteed to become alien chow. Then Dana would be disappointed in him, and that was something the nigh-invulnerable humanoid virus would rather immerse himself in Bloodtox than endure.
As he reloaded his rocket launcher and aimed it at a particularly thick cloud of floaters, Mercer pondered the dilemma. Moral issues weren't really his area of expertise, but thinking deeply about it didn't really help, since that just invited the host of voices in his head to shout their own opinions at him. The fact that quite a few of them were psychopathic killers didn't exactly help.
He was considering digging around in his biomass to try and find that cell phone his sister had given him, but before he could even start the sounds of the approaching vehicle turned into those of landing. It was a couple blocks away, but for him that was close enough.
Continuing to draw the attention of the aliens with his few remaining rockets, Mercer listened closely as the thump of heavy boots on metal indicated exiting soldiers. As they started to speak over what was presumably a radio he paid extra attention. Whatever these guys were up to, he wasn't about to let himself be taken by surprise.
