At 0532, the alarms start ringing. All traces of sleep flee as I realize this is for real. The alert Klaxons had not been preceded by "This is a drill". I leap out of bed and open my locker. Noting the green light on the display, I pull on my forest camouflage coveralls. Forgetting any attempt at personal hygiene, I dash out my door and start hauling ass toward the armory. As I round the last corner, I see Mikhail beat me to the gear locker. He's checking out his Sniper rifle and Kevlar, but takes a moment to give me a smirk and tap his watch before heading off to the Skyranger. Asshole. I step up to the counter. Old, crusty Sgt. Lopez is there, the team's gear in neat stacks behind him. He says. "You ready for your stuff?"
I nod, he reads off the serial numbers for my laser rifle and Kevlar, then issues me two grenades and a med-kit. I verify them on the checkout sheet by initialing each line. That's the American team for you, always with the paperwork. I heard from Mikhail the Russians just pulled whatever their assigned gear was off the rack and jumped on the plane. It would seem American bureaucrats were tenacious enough to infiltrate the most top-secret of organizations.
Sumie and Don show up behind me while I'm checking out my gear, and Lt. White took his usual place at the counter to wait. I give him a nod and a quick "Sir." He lifts his chin and says "See you on the plane." I walk a couple of steps away to strap on my combat belt and pull on my Kevlar vest without fastening it. Word from the nerds was we were getting new armor based on the alloys and ceramics the aliens used. It was supposed to be stronger and lighter, which was awesome, because Kevlar weighs a fucking ton. They even told us the Kevlar wouldn't help against a direct hit from an alien weapon. It's just there to protect us from shrapnel and the like. Still, I'll take it over nothing. I walk the rest of the way to the hangar, put in my ear plugs and open up the double doors, 'stepping it out' to quickly get up the waiting ramp of our Skyranger.
X-COM had quickly rejected all existing troop transports. None of them fit the company's requirement to quickly deploy operators over an entire continent with the ability to vertically takeoff and land. The American Osprey came close, but was too unreliable and lacked the speed of a jet. All the other competing models didn't have VTOL capability. The X-COM founding council decided all that was left was to commission a new aircraft. Designed and built in six months by the same consortium that made the Eurofighter, the Skyranger was a jet powered, long-range transport capable of supersonic speeds. A new engine material design literally stolen from BMW's mainframe gave the Skyranger unheard of fuel efficiency in a cruise configuration. This was due to the BMW ceramic alloy's ability to contain almost all the fuel combustion's heat and power, maximizing the engine's ability to convert fuel into thrust. Along with fuel storage in every conceivable place on the aircraft, this gave a Skyranger the range and speed to respond with up to 12 operators and gear from our base to any point in North America within three hours, and we could get all the way down to Chile in six. The two main engines in the back were capable of rotating from fully back to 20 degrees forward of straight down. A smaller engine of the same design was fitted in the front of the jet, serving as both the Auxiliary Power Unit on the ground, and providing thrust via directional nozzles during hovering and vertical takeoff and landing.
The Skyranger looks like a C-130 after a diet, beautiful in a really ugly kind of way. Broski, our Plane Commander, is finishing up his walk around as I approach the plane. I wave over to him, he waves back a lazy peace sign as I step on the ramp. I climb aboard and pull off my Kevlar to rack it with my rifle and belt. It's probably going to be a long flight, no need to kill myself wearing all that crap before I let the aliens have a go. Mikhail is already in his seat, sitting legs apart and reading a book in Russian. I decide he doesn't have a soul.
The rest of the team files in, Lt. White last. Once we're all strapped in, he checks with the two pilots to make sure they're ready to go. He ducks through the flight station door back to the tube and briefs us on the mission, yelling over the loud whine of the APU. "OK killers, word is the fighters shot down a large scout in the middle of some South Carolina woods. They said it looked like the ship took moderate damage when it went down, but it should be mostly intact. Pilots said it would be 2+45 for us to get there. Boss is very excited about this one, they think we'll have our first intact alien engine. That's it for now, strap in and settle down."
He takes his seat closest to the flight station. After he straps in, he gives us a thumbs up and we reply with the same to let him know we are ready. The pilots start the main engines as the flight platform lifts up to the surface. It must look weird to an outside observer, to see a perfect circle of grassland suddenly sink six feet,then slide away to reveal an unmarked, military gray, freak aircraft rising up from the pits of hell. As we lift off, I pull out my copy of Time Magazine and start doing my best to not piss my pants for three hours.
Two hours, thirty minutes later, we start strapping on our gear in preparation for the landing. The pilots will touch down about 2km from the crash site, to keep the aliens from shooting down the plane from the ground. After we land and the plane settles on its gear, we pull on our headsets and helmets. Lt. White leads the comm and video feed checks, everyone is good. The pilots wish us luck and drop the ramp. We file two at a time out of the Skyranger, forming up in two columns and start making our way to the crash. The early morning sun filters down through the trees and birds chirp to each other as we file through the spring South Carolina woods. I'm so nervous I can hear my heart pound. I force my breathing to slow down to something resembling a normal rate. I'm second back in the left column, with Sumie ahead of me and Son and Mikhail behind. Don, Mark, Lindsay, and Lt. White make up the other column to the right.
When an alien ship is on the ground, it projects some kind of semi-permeable dome around itself that lets the aliens pump their atmosphere into the area and move around outside their craft. It's imperfect, and lets enough of our own atmosphere in for us to move about as well, albeit with masks. It only lasts a couple of days, giving the aliens a chance to repair their ship or be killed by X-COM. We, of course, prefer the latter. As we approach, I start to make out the faint shimmer of the dome. Lt. White calls for us to fan out into our teams. Sumie and I split up, taking point, Son takes position a few meters behind and between us with his Laser Cannon while Mikhail sets up with his old Dragunov on a hilltop to the left. Today is the first field test of the Laser Cannon, and we're all nervous about using it over Son's tried and true M240. The nerds said it was powerful enough to bust through any alien's armor, which we believed, but the capacitors took forever to charge. Three seconds being forever compared to the automatic fire of the M240.
Damn, I've got to calm down! Letting my brain wander all over while I'm about to be shot at is not such a great idea. I take position about 50m inside the dome. I can't see anyone else now, but I know they're there, quietly reporting on the comm net as they take initial positions. Once Lt. White hears everyone is ready he orders the scouts forward. Sumie and I start taking turns making our way forward through the forest, one of us always in cover or concealment. After we advance about 50m, Son and Mikhail move up to take new positions for cover.
"Lead, Bravo-Two. Craft sighted." Don reports over the comm net.
Lt. White copies the location and marks it on his tactical HUD, displaying it to the rest of us. "Alpha, continue your sweep to the west and clear out the perimeter of the dome. Bravo will move into position and maintain watch on the door."
Son rogers up and directs Sumie and me to push our sweep to the left and around inside edge of the dome. The ground is pretty good for being sneaky. It had recently rained, softening the dry leaves on the ground, allowing Sumie and I to move about with barely a rustle. I cover her as she moves forward, Laser rifle up, her torso still as her legs pump beneath her. She slips between the trees to find new cover, head twitching back and forth as she scans for threats. Good, I'm focused now, mind on the job. She stops ahead and to the my right, behind the cover of a large tree, and it's my turn to move. I snap my rifle up to just below my face, trigger finger along the frame of the gun and eyes downrange. My head twitches back and forth as well as I scan the forest for gray Sectoids or pink Floaters. As I advance, I catch the tail end of a red cape disappear behind a tree in front of me. I duck behind the nearest tree, putting it between me and the cape.
"Lead, Alpha-Two. Tally Floater." I quickly check my HUD. "It's zero-two-zero at twenty meters."
Lt. White responds immediately. "Roger, marked. Alpha-Four, clear to engage."
Mikhail's slow Russian accent. "Alpha-Four copies, clear to engage."
I lie down behind my tree, letting just the corner of my face slip from behind the tree at ground level. I wait to see if the Floater will come from behind his cover. He apparently didn't see any of us, because he does come out, gliding silently just above the ground. I try to stay cool, but the sight of my first alien with one of those guns of theirs really unnerves me. Luckily, Mikhail isn't as green as me, and the Floater's pink chest, then head, explode in mist just before I hear the two reports from Mikhail's Rifle.
"Target Down."
Just like that, my first kill. X-COM doesn't track individual kills. We count any kill by a squad as for everyone. The idea was, without me spotting the Floater, Mikhail might not have been able to pick it out. Scouts like me and Sumie are part recon, part sniper spotters.
Lt. White comes over the net. "Nicely done One. If they didn't know we were here, they do now. Continue your sweep inside the dome."
Son responds "Wilco."
We continue our sweep, Sumie spotting the next two Floaters. They go down similar to the first. They were more on the alert, but Mikhail coolly lit them up as soon as they came from behind cover. "Target Down". It's satisfying to watch the crimson dots pop up on my tactical display only to be replaced by the white dot of a corpse shortly after. Team Alpha completes the sweep of the dome and joins up with Team Bravo by the door.
Entering the UFO is the single most terrifying part of any mission. The aliens keep it pretty dim in there, and they have the tactical advantages of ambush and home turf. X-COM adopted as many SWAT building clearing tactics as they could, with some extra bonuses like the luxury of being able to toss grenades into rooms before we go blasting in. The doors are surprisingly not locked from the inside, so we can enter just as easily as the aliens. This is consistent with the idea that the aliens haven't encountered anything capable of resisting them in a very long time.
Lt. White gives us five minutes to catch our breath and see if any curious Floaters come out to see what happened to their buddies. No luck today. "OK team, entry plan Yankee-One." Yankee-One is X-COM standard entry procedure in the absence of any kind of extra intel on the ship or particular desire to capture aliens alive. It basically involves me opening the door, then Sumie and Don toss in some grenades, we all get out of the way for the boom, then Mark and I come back in, NVGs on and guns blazing. After we set up covering positions inside, we give the rest of the team the go-ahead to follow us in. Mikhail covers the door while we set up, Sumie and Don ready to follow us. Son and Lindsay are probably not going to get to use their new toys today. The insides of a UFO are too cramped and fast paced to use a slow firing power weapon.
OK, we're all set up. I can feel the sweat starting to bead all over my body, and I start wondering if I'll be able to hear Lt. White over the efforts of my heart to jackhammer its way out of my chest. Then it comes. "Plan Yankee-One. Go."
I slap the patch of hull that slides the ship's door up and away, then immediately step back. Sumie and Don toss their primed grenades into the hatch and step behind Mark and I as the door closes. THUMP! THUMP! The two grenades go off in quick succession and we hear blood-curdling, supremely satisfying, alien screams from inside the ship. I slap the patch again and Mark rushes in, followed immediately by me. He's firing into the gloom and smoke before I'm even in front of the door, sweeping from center to right. I follow right on his back, sweeping on full auto from center to left. I catch two green glowing eyes in the green glow of my NVGs and focus my fire just below them. I can feel the heat from my rifle's capacitors as the heat sinks strain to keep up with the hail of coherent light it's pumping out. I hear another scream and see the two eyes fall back as I continue to follow the inside of the wall to my left. I don't see any other targets, and, lacking any sort of cover, kneel down in the corner closest to the door.
I report in. "Left clear, one down." Lt. White copies.
Lindsay checks in. "Right clear, no targets." Lt. White copies again. "Roger, well done. Smoke clearing up?"
Mark and I both respond "Affirm." "Roger, NVGs up."
We snap our NVGs back up over our helmets. "Second team, go." Sumie and Don move in, and I get a chance to see the inside of a UFO for the first time. It looks like the entry area is some kind of empty cargo space, rectangular with uniform gray hull. It doesn't have any reinforcing structure, probably because of the crazy metal they use. There's two corridors that lead further into the ship, one to the right across from me, and one to my left as I kneel in the corner. There's one Floater body on the ground, taken out by the grenades, and mine, lying across the entry to my left. There's not too much blood from that one, laser beams cauterize the wounds, but the one taken out by the grenades is oozing a green and red, thick, stinky mess. I'm still so hyped up, I don't notice the smell much. Don and Sumie move up to the corners leading to the corridors and take position to cover Mark and I as we move to the doors.
"OK, we're going to take it nice and slow. Ones, get behind your twos and start clearing. Son and Lindsay will cover."
We copy, and I move past Sumie into the corridor on the left, making sure to 'check my corners'. The first door is a couple meters down on the right wall of the corridor. I kneel on both knees just to the right of it against the same wall. Sumie comes up behind me and slings her rifle around on her back and grabs the back of my Kevlar vest. Son sets up on the far wall to cover the door.
"Ready?" She asks me. I'm pretty sure my heart has cracked a few ribs by now. I take a deep breath and firm control of my bowels then reply "Yup.".
I slap the door open and wait for the clear from Son. He nods, and I hold up my left hand, counting down 'three, two, one,' then I make a fist and jerk forward to get a look at the room beyond the door. Sumie immediately jerks me back. "Clear." I tell my squad. They nod, and Sumie slaps my helmet and gives me a smile. I grin sheepishly back, glad for the encouragement.
One door down. One to go. Over the com, I hear the other squad calling the first corridor clear. They have the more dangerous job today, their door leads straight into the control room of the UFO, with a lot more places for an alien to take pot shots at them. We usually don't get to toss grenades around after the first room because the techies need to look at alien stuff so we can replicate it, but it means the chances of us getting shot at go up. Luckily, floaters have proven to be not the best soldiers, and we've kept everyone alive today. The room between us and the control room is pretty small, just a table with no chairs. I guess the floaters don't need them. We move up to the next door and repeat the same tactics as the last one to get a peek at the corner of the room the other squad can't see. It's clear again, and we move in to the control room. They've shown us footage of previous missions, so I know what to expect stepping in. There's still no support structure, and the control stations are across from the door we came through. Just a flat display above come kind of key set. There's indecipherable images floating around on the screen, and I wish the nerds luck figuring it out. Meanwhile, in the 'back' of the control room to my right is one last door to the central room on the craft. This is where they figure the power source for the craft is located, and by our count there's one more floater hanging out in there. Maybe the Engineer.
Lt. White is thinking the same thing. "OK if the thing in there is unarmed, don't kill it. I'm coming up with the stun rod." The stun rod is basically a three foot long, electrically charged stick with a handle. The idea was, you whack something with the stun rod, it crosses its eyes and falls down, knocked out but alive. Don and I do Rock, Paper, Scissors to see who has to peek in the room. I lose. Sumie and I set up to clear as Lt. White comes in to the control room. He gives us a nod, Don slaps open the door, and I peek inside the room. It's surprisingly empty. Just a couple displays on the walls, and what looks like an upside-down funnel in the center of the room. The whole thing is about seven feet tall, the conical base coming up to about my waist and the cylinder on top emitting a creepy orange glow. The base is a darker version of the metal the rest of the craft is made of, and the column coming up out looks like a nebula contained in a jar.
In the far right corner of the room is a floater, trembling with empty hands. As Lt. White quickly strides up to it, it attempts to cower, which is pretty comical, given the fact it has no way to crouch. It just kind of covers its face and waits for the imminent blow. Lt. White doesn't keep it waiting, he whacks it upside the head and it goes limp, dropping to the ground as its anti-grav fails and it topples over like an empty glass. Lt. White prods it with his toe to see if it's really passed out. He gives a satisfied grunt and holds the stun rod up to look at it. "Damn thing works after all."
I breathe a huge sigh of relief and feel the five pound knot in my stomach start to slowly unravel. I might be OK by the time we get back to base. Lt. White walks over to me and gives my helmet a slap. "Nice job new guy." Sumie smirks at me and nods, Mikhail just looks disinterested.
