The Citadel
XCOM Headquarters
The Commander unstrapped and stood up, rolling his shoulders as the ramp descended with a prolonged hiss. He began walking out and leapt off the edge of the ramp rather than wait for it to hit the ground. He clasped his hands behind his back and took his first good look at the hangar.
It was small compared with traditional military hangars. The area was slightly larger than the size of a baseball field but as he looked up he saw slots carved into the walls that held the actual fighter jets. He counted only six. Not many, but these planes likely had enhancements that were not easily reproduced. He'd have to see their capabilities.
A door in the wall opposite him slid open and a man walked through. Wearing a green sweater and a headset, the Commander assumed he was one of the analysists, perhaps the chief one. He began walking towards him.
Once they were close enough, the man stopped and snapped into a salute.
"Welcome to XCOM HQ, Commander," he began. "I'm Central Officer Bradford."
"Bradford," the Commander repeated. "You were directing the first operation, correct."
"Yes, Commander. Had I known you were this close I'd have waited for you to arrive."
The Commander smiled. "At ease. No, if you had waited, the aliens would have left and we'd have nothing."
Bradford relaxed and both began walking towards the door. "I assume your duties involve analysis and administration?" The Commander asked as they walked through the door into the lit hallway.
"Yes, Commander. My efforts will allow you to focus on the big picture without becoming mired in the day-to-day details as well as providing you with tactical advice."
He smiled. "I appreciate that. Though if you do need something from me, don't hesitate to ask."
"I'll keep that in mind, Commander," Bradford answered tactfully. "But the Council believes you should be completely focused on the alien threat-"
The Commander raised a hand as they made a turn. "Let's make one thing clear, Bradford. Just because the Council wants or expects something does not mean they will get it. The people under my command are more important and that includes you."
Bradford was clearly at a loss. "Ah, thank you Commander. Though I would suggest not antagonizing the Council."
"Provided they work with me, I will not."
They walked in silence for a few minutes. "How much has the Council told you about me?" He asked.
"They told me you've directed several major black ops teams and have extensive experience in intelligence and guerilla warfare," Bradford shrugged. "No specifics, but I trust that the Council made the right call."
The Commander glanced over and the corners of his lips turned up. "You'd like to know, though. Wouldn't you?"
Tactful as ever, Bradford answered. "That is your prerogative, Commander."
He sighed. Respect for the chain of command was excellent, to a point. One of the reasons he preferred espionage operations was because the atmosphere was far more relaxed. Or at least it had been that way with him. People who had questions or problems for him were encouraged to speak up and give their perspective. He despised it when people kept their mouths shut in a misguided respect for the chain of command. Well, that was going to be one of the first things he changed here.
"I was a terrorist hunter," he told Bradford who involuntarily stiffened. "And yes, I was part of his team."
"Ah, if you don't mind me asking…"
"I don't."
"Just…how involved were you?"
"Heavily. Until he killed the Vice President."
"I…see."
He stopped walking and Bradford turned to face him. "Is this a problem?" He asked.
Bradford hesitated. "No sir. Whatever you were…involved in…it's in the past now. Though I appreciate you telling me."
He nodded. "Don't mention it. This isn't going to be run like a typical military operation, Bradford. You don't have to fear speaking your mind simply because I might disagree. I like to encourage different perspectives and have an open door policy. If you want to speak to me about something, don't be afraid to come. Spread that around if you would, it'll be more effective coming from you."
"I'll do that, Commander." Bradford promised. At the end of the hallway, the door hissed opened and they stepped into another room.
Computers and monitors were placed throughout the room in a square formation, all surrounding the obvious centerpiece; a massive hologlobe displaying Earth. Analysts were at their stations and barely noticed the new arrivals.
"Welcome to Mission Control, Commander," Bradford declared. "This is where we find and analyze alien activity as well as oversee ground operations."
"Impressive," the Commander commented. "Is it difficult pinpointing alien activity?"
Bradford scratched his head. "At the moment, yes. But that is expected. My team is constantly getting better at recognizing and pinpointing the alien signatures. Dr. Shen has developed a satellite that will make our job easier, but production on it is awaiting your approval."
"Dr. Shen?"
"Head of XCOM Engineering," Bradford explained. "Come this way."
XCOM Headquarters, Engineering Bay
Engineering was impressive, to say the least.
Conveyor belts with robotic assembly arms were placed along the wall and work stations were scattered throughout the room, some of them with engineers working at them.
"Dr. Shen!" Bradford called out at one of the engineers. The man looked up and removed his safety goggles. He was the oldest person the Commander had seen so far. But he had no doubt that the balding man before him was the best at what he did.
"Ah, Commander, I'm glad you stopped by." He greeted as he adjusted his glasses.
The Commander inclined his head as he shook his hand. "Dr. Shen. A pleasure to meet you. You have an impressive operation going down here."
Shen smiled with pride. "That we do. Anything they can dream up in the research labs, we can build it here. I can proudly say that our little workshop is the best in the world."
"Good to hear," the Commander said. "Because we're going to need every advantage against the aliens."
"My team and I will do our best," Shen promised. "If you have time later, I'd like to show you some preliminary designs and tech awaiting your approval."
"I'll make sure to come back," the Commander promised. "I'm curious about your capabilities."
"I look forward to it." Shen replied with a smile.
They left Shen to his work and walked away.
"Where to next?" the Commander asked Bradford.
"The research labs," Bradford answered. "This way."
XCOM Headquarters, Research Labs
The labs were far smaller than the engineering bay. But no less sophisticated. Tables covered in lab equipment were dotted throughout the room with a few scientists working at them. One the walls were tubes which he assumed were for storing samples. A woman noticed their entrance and walked toward them.
He raised an eyebrow when he saw the brown-haired sharp-tonged German woman in an XCOM-issue lab coat. Interesting. He hadn't expected to see her here.
"Commander," she greeted. Her accent not quite as pronounced as he remembered. "A pleasure to meet you. My name is doctor-"
"Vahlen," the Commander finished with a small smile. "Dr. Vahlen. I didn't expect to see you here."
She took a step back, clearly surprised. Bradford was equally confused. "You two…know each other?"
The Commander shook his head. "Not personally. But when one of the most prominent scientists in the world suddenly goes missing with no media coverage whatsoever, it tends to attract attention of certain people. Like me."
He appraised the woman clutching a tablet in her hand. "I had wondered what happened to you. You vanished about eight years ago, leading me to suspect that you were an unfortunate casualty in the War on Terror."
Vahlen got her voice back. "I'm pleased to say I wasn't, Commander. Though there were a few close calls."
"I'd imagine. So what have you been doing for these past years?"
She swept her arm, indicating the room. "Preparing. This is where all of XCOM's research and development takes place. With the help of Dr. Shen and his team, we've been able to reach the pinnacle of weapon and armor technology for use against the alien threat. Unfortunately, we've hit a wall due to a lack of advanced resource. But now with the aliens revealed to us, I'd like to begin researching their technology to use against them."
The Commander nodded. "Compile a list of projects for me. I want at least three when I come back. Then we can discuss specifics. I want to know everything about these creatures."
"We can both agree on that," she nodded enthusiastically. "I'll get started immediately."
XCOM Headquarters, Situation Room
"This is the situation room, Commander." Bradford explained as they entered the final major room. About the size of a conference room, a holotable set in the middle and a massive screen took up the wall behind it. On it was a map of the world and at each end were the names of sixteen countries with five rhombuses beneath each of them.
"We're keeping track of civilian panic within each of the Council countries," Bradford explained. "Each rhombus will turn red when panic increases. If panic gets out of control, that Council member may withdraw from the XCOM project."
"An empty threat," the Commander dismissed. "Unless there is another organization like us, they have no one else to protect them. Withdrawing wouldn't make sense."
"I hope you're right," Bradford answered, clearly unconvinced. "Speaking of which, the Council wishes to speak to you now."
He pressed a button and the map and names disappeared and was replaced by the shadowy Council spokesman who'd greeted him on the initial video.
"I want to speak to him," he told Bradford. "Alone."
He nodded. "Of course, Commander." Once the door closed behind him, the Commander crossed his arms and looked at the spokesman.
"I presume you represent the Council. I have some questions."
"Your tone is unnecessary. I will answer."
"Good. Why would you want me? Was this the reason I wasn't executed?"
"Correct, Commander. While your methods were, and still are, extreme, we felt that they would be necessary in the case of an alien invasion."
"You say that," the Commander raised an eyebrow skeptically. "But the moment I do something "extreme" this Council will call for my head. Again."
"We are not the United Nations, Commander. Most of the Council would prefer that you retain full autonomy. But some members of the Council may feel…otherwise."
He sighed. "Of course. Why should I expect anything differently? So I am going to say this only once," he began pacing while the spokesman appraised him. "Let me be completely clear. If you try to shackle me, I will ignore you. If you try to remove me, I will respond in kind. You want me to do a job, so let me do it. Do I make myself clear?"
"Perfectly…Commander. But I cannot guarantee complete approval of your actions."
"Let me worry about that," the Commander said. "Now, from what you've said it sounds like bringing me back was not a unanimous decision. Who was against it?"
"That information is-"
"Who. Were. They?" The spokesman was silent. The Commander sighed.
"Listen, you can tell me so I can prepare for the inevitable fallout, or I'll have to come to my own conclusions. Which outcome suits you best?"
"You imply that you already have…controversial plans. Can you give some indication as to the…extent…of them?"
The Commander scowled. "I don't have anything concrete. I've been in command less than a day. But this is war. I would not be surprised if countries have to be sacrificed. Overrun or captured cities may have to be annexed. I'll do what I can to minimize civilian casualties, but they will not be my priority."
"Understand this," the shadowy spokesman jabbed a finger at the screen. "A situation similar to Mecca will not be tolerated. We are being generous by giving you a second chance. Betrayal of that trust will not just have severe consequences for you, but for everyone you've ever cared about."
The Commander clenched his fists, responses blazing through his mind. It was an empty threat. Everyone he had ever cared about was dead. This spokesman knew nothing of loss. He knew nothing of conflict. Nothing of cost. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Once he had composed himself he opened his eyes and addressed the spokesman.
"We can threaten each other all day," he said slowly. Calmly. "But I don't think this is the kind of relationship we should have."
"On this we agree."
"Alright," the Commander inclined his head. "Let's do this. We start over. Everything is in the past; I forget my three years on the run and seven years in prison, and you forget my, ah, "war crimes.""
"We are not able to so easily forgive what you did, Commander. However, we both have a common goal; the survival of mankind."
"Agreed, but you and I both know that I can't completely devote myself to the defense of Earth if I have to worry about being hindered by people with a grudge against me," the Commander insisted. "So I need to know; who should I watch out for?"
There was silence for a few seconds.
"Egypt, Australia, France, the United Kingdom, Canada and the United States."
The Commander let his face betray no emotion. Egypt made sense, they had been close to several of his operations and he'd removed several high-ranking terrorists who also happened to be government officials. Short-sighed fools.
Australia, France, the UK and Canada probably protested him on moral grounds. Something he believed had no place in war. Only the UK and Canada might actually prove troublesome, but not worth worrying about yet. He was fairly confident that he could negate any problems Australia and France caused him, but he'd have to be careful. As usual.
The United States. As much as he was expecting it, he still felt betrayed. He'd served for decades and they'd abandoned him when the political cost became too high. It honestly wasn't unexpected and he'd known that when making his decisions. But sacrifices had to be made. Now as to the USA posing a threat to him, he didn't know. It was entirely possible they felt they needed to placate the Council, so their apparent protest of him might be fabricated. That wouldn't surprise him, but until he knew for sure, they would be treated as any other potential threat.
Interesting that Russia hadn't protested. Then again, Russia had been rather supportive of his methods until they involved the death of the Russian president. Sadly, that forced their hand into working with the USA to hunt him down. He supposed that they felt enough time had passed that they could covertly support him again. A lot to think about.
"Thank you," he told the spokesman. "In the interest of preserving a civil working relationship, what would be the appropriate steps if a country moves against me?"
"That is something that can be discussed if it comes up. You have the support of this Council for now, Commander. Do not disappoint us."
He smirked. "I will do my best."
"Very well. We will be watching."
The screen went dark and was replaced by the global map.
He took a deep breath.
That had gone about as well as he'd expected. The Council had to know that he'd wasn't going to be their puppet or follow blindly without question. If they expected him to be grateful for this so-called "second chance" that was fine, but that certainly did not translate to loyalty. He smirked. Loyalty. That was one word that the Council and United Nations didn't understand. They spent too much time fighting among themselves to ever truly be useful. This divide the Council had concerning him…it could be exploited if done correctly. There had to be some way to negate the Council so he could fully focus on the aliens.
But that would have to be done some other day. Until some foolish country tried to restrict him, all his attention would be focused on the invasion. Pushing all thoughts of the Council and UN, he left the room where Bradford was waiting outside.
Bradford was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "How did it go?"
"As well as I expected," he responded. "If we do our job, they shouldn't cause any problems. Though since the UN is behind them, it remains to be seen if they keep their word."
"Ah," Bradford began hesitantly. "You don't have much faith in them."
"No. But I do know that they'll look out for themselves and I can use that." He shook his head. "But I'll worry about the Council and UN later. Is there anything else you want to show me?"
Bradford began walking and motioned the Commander to follow. "Just your office."
It was only a short distance from the Situation Room. They stopped in front of the black doors and Bradford placed his hand on the palm scanner and lowered his eye for the retinal scanner. "For security reasons, " he explained unnecessarily. "Now that you're here, this room will be secured with your biometrics." With a hiss the door slid open.
Bradford flipped a light switch and bright white lights illuminated the room. At first glance it was about the size of a regular office and there was a traditional table with opposing chairs. But that was where the similarities ended. On the desk were three monitors with communication equipment and headset resting on it as well. Directly behind it was a massive monitor displaying the vitals and armor cams of the Strike Team. Ignoring Bradford, he went to look at what was on the desk monitors.
One monitor showed the same images as the screen behind him, the other two showed a smaller scale version of the Situation Room data and the other showed data and personnel information on XCOM HQ.
"Each of the monitors can individually be lowered into the desk as well as choosing the display of each screen," Bradford explained helpfully. "You can directly oversee and command every aspect of an operation as well as issue orders within XCOM HQ."
"XCOM HQ." the Commander repeated as he sat down and grasped the mouse and began getting used to the system.
"Armor cams and certain systems can also be brought up via voice commands," Bradford continued. "It should work well for you, Commander."
"Without a doubt," he answered distractedly and smiled as he found the edit button under the designation "XCOM Headquarters." He deleted it and began typing.
Bradford looked down and cocked his head, puzzled. "The Citadel? Why are you changing the name?"
"I find names such as "XCOM HQ" to be very…what's the word? Generic? Everyone knows this is XCOM HQ, it doesn't need to actually be called that. I find the Citadel rather fitting, last defense of humanity and all that. Besides, it's more of a tradition for me; every base of operations I've overseen has been called the Citadel, I don't see a reason to change now. Will this be a problem?"
Bradford shook his head. "No, Commander. I'll let the staff know the name change."
"Then I think I'll start working." the Commander stated as he turned his focus to the screens.
"Very well, Commander. In the next room you'll also find your quarters. The engineers decided to combine the rooms to save space."
"Good idea," the Commander acknowledged. "When is the Strike Team scheduled to return?"
"Within the hour."
"When they get back, I want to speak to Jaster, Rodriguez and Gertrude. They don't have to rush, but I want to see them today."
Bradford nodded. "Understood, Commander." And left him to begin the task of running XCOM.
Skyranger, En route to the Citadel
The ride back on the skyranger had been far more relaxed than that tense ride over. Shawn Cage supposed that successfully killing a bunch of aliens had that effect on people. Both teams had each told their stories and he'd not been surprised in the least when Myra claimed three kills out of the four aliens she and her team had encountered.
Liam had been unsurprisingly quiet. Probably thinking about that weird alien mind trick. Which Shawn understood, he really did. But there'd be plenty of time to focus on the grim, depressing stuff later. Couldn't he just enjoy one hour of victory? Nah, he knew his type, all gruff and serious, he probably didn't know the meaning of the word relaxing.
Whatever. At least everyone else had been talkative, even the rookie Abby. She'd rather meekly taken credit for her two kills and received cheers from the rest of the squad, even Liam had smiled at her. High praise. This was going to be a huge confidence booster for her, and she was going to need all she could get.
"This is Fallen Sky to Strike Team, we're coming in to X-, the Citadel now. Prepare for landing."
They all looked at each other in confusion. "What did he say?" Shawn asked, just to make sure he hadn't misheard.
"Well, either XCOM has another base or they decided to call it 'the Citadel' now," Myra shrugged. "I'm betting on the latter."
"That seems abrupt," Abby commented. "Does it happen often?"
"No," Liam spoke up. "Only the Commander and Central Officer have the authority for name changes. Since we know who the CO is, I assume this to be the work of our new Commander."
"No one has met the Commander yet, right?" Ernest Sims asked.
All of them shook their heads. "I certainly haven't," Shawn said lightly. "But then again, commanders generally keep their distance from grunts like us."
"I doubt it," Myra disagreed. "It's more likely that he's just as new as we are."
Kim shrugged. "I suppose we'll find out." With a shudder the skyranger landed and each of them unstrapped, donned their helmets, and stepped off the skyranger in a crude formation. Central Officer Bradford was waiting for them outside. They formed a line and snapped into their countries equivalent of a salute.
Shawn didn't let anything show, but found it funny how odd each of them looked as most of them was in a completely different salute. XCOM diversity hard at work. Bradford clearly felt the same way and Shawn saw his lip twitch as he told them "At ease."
They all relaxed and Bradford continued. "Congratulations on a successful mission. Each of you performed well and the Commander is pleased with your performance. Each of you will be debriefed and then be free to roam the base. Squad Overseer Jaster and privates Rodriguez and Gertrude are to report to the Commander after debriefing. He encourages you not to hurry, but he want to see you by the end of the day. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" they all answered. He nodded.
"Excellent. Dismissed." Then Bradford walked away.
Shawn smiled at Abby. "From rookie to seeing the Commander. You're moving up in the world."
She removed her helmet shook her blonde hair free. "I…suppose so. I didn't really expect to ever really see him. At all."
"When your commander wants to see you," Liam informed. "It usually means you've either screwed up badly or performed exceptionally. Given how the mission went, I think you have nothing to worry about."
"I hope so." She still sounded nervous, which was understandable. He flashed an encouraging smile at her and all of them exited the hangar.
Five hours later
Liam Jaster stood outside the Commander's office. He admitted it. He was curious who the Council had decided to put in charge of Earth's defense. After being asked to join XCOM, just for an exercise, he'd made a list of possible candidates for the position in his head. Well, time to see if he was-
The door hissed open and he blinked. Then shrugged and walked in.
"Come in." a voice ordered and he got his first look at the Commander.
Young. That was the first word that came to mind. He seemed far too young to be any kind of military leader. His black hair didn't have any strands of gray and his face was simultaneously commanding and friendly. He wasn't overly dressed either, just wearing a black sweater with the XCOM logo emblazoned. He was sitting at a desk with a monitor to his right.
Liam walked over and sat down in the chair opposite the Commander. He rose and extended his hand. Liam took it. "Pleasure to meet you, Squad Overseer Jaster."
"Likewise, Commander." He replied as he inclined his head.
"Now," the Commander continued. "First I will say excellent job with the mission. It went smoothly for a first encounter. However, I do have some things to point out."
Liam suddenly felt nervous, no, apprehensive, though he let nothing show. "Were there issues, sir?"
"Some. But easily fixable. But first," he rested his arms on the desk. "What do you think could be improved?"
He considered for a moment, replaying the entire mission in his mind. "We should have secured the conjoining room before investigating the pod. I also shouldn't have left Private Gertrude alone."
"I wouldn't have considered leaving her an issue, had this not been her first assignment," the Commander amended. "You were extremely lucky that she didn't panic. Despite how she performed today, she is a civilian and should be considered as such until she has more experience."
"Understood, sir."
"I've looked at the roster," the Commander turned a monitor screen to him. On it was a list of name, and a small list at that. "We only have twenty soldiers on staff at the moment. More are coming but we cannot afford to lose even one. I'll tell you the same thing I told Rodriguez, you need to know your squad. You need to know the men and woman under your command, their strength and weaknesses. Who can operate independently and who needs supervision."
Liam wanted to ask something, but held his tongue as it seemed…insubordinate. Unfortunately, he didn't fully close his mouth and the Commander noticed. "You have something to add?" he asked.
Liam had never been a good liar, and something told him that lying would not work in his favor. "Nothing important, sir."
"Perhaps. But I believe I'll judge for myself.
Liam took a breath. "I was just curious…if what you were saying about knowing the people under your command applied to you as well."
The Commander smiled. "Good question. And yes, it does. I despise hands-off "leaders" and prefer leading from the front. That'll clearly be more difficult for me since I've never directed an operation this large, but I'll do my best. I keep an open-door policy, if you have a question or issue come to me and I'll resolve it. Spread that around, it'll be more believable coming from you."
As far as first impressions went, the Commander was passing with flying colors. Now whether he could actually run a successful military unit was still in question, but Liam didn't have much of a reason to doubt him. He seemed intelligent, charismatic and cared about his troops. Everything that a good commander needed.
"I'll do that." he promised the Commander.
"Excellent," the Commander turned the screen back to him. "One last thing; you have an impressive record in Russian counter-terrorism. Did you participate in the War on Terror?"
Liam pursed his lips. "If you're asking if I ever encountered that commander, then no, I never did."
"I'm curious. What is your opinion on him?"
He hesitated. This was clearly leading somewhere and Liam had a pretty good idea where. He should probably choose his words carefully. "His methods were…extreme…but despite that, they were effective. Honestly, I was impressed with him until he killed our President."
The Commander nodded. "Our stories are similar then. You should know I did work for the Commander at one point, and was actually highly placed in fact. But I became disillusioned when he began killing foreign dignitaries without due process. I left soon afterwards."
Liam blinked. He was actually impressed. Most people, not to mention commanders, would hide that sort of information, especially if that specific information involved working with the most infamous war criminal since…well, ever. His respect for the man just went up from that revelation.
He nodded. "I see. Thank you for telling me."
The Commander inclined his head. "You're welcome. If this was going to be an issue, I wanted it resolved right away. You seem to be fine with it, though."
"We've all made mistakes, especially when it comes to our homelands."
"Very true-"
"Commander, this is Central,"
The Commander pressed the intercom key on his desk. "Go ahead, Central."
"A town in Canada has just gone dark. Sending you the details."
"Prepare the skyranger," the Commander ordered. "Give our third pilot some experience. I'll assemble the squad and handle the operation from here."
"Acknowledged. Central, out."
"I'm ready to go, sir." Liam informed him.
The Commander shook his head. "Admirable, but you need rest. Besides, some of the other soldiers need the experience. Trust me, you'll be given plenty of time in the field."
"Very well sir," Liam stood up and saluted. "I'll let you get back to work now."
The Commander nodded and formed his right hand into a fist and placed it over his chest. His version of a salute? With that Liam left the room, leaving the Commander to prepare for the mission ahead.
