XCOM Research Report: September 18th 2017
Head Researcher: Dr. Daro'Xen vas Moreh
Team Leaders: Dr. Declan Faherty, Dr. Nia Colvin, Dr. Eric Koss, Dr. Vasili Sevchenko
TOP SECRET: ANY UNAUTHORISED PERSONNEL READING BEYOND THIS POINT SUBJECT TO IMMEDIATE PUNITIVE ACTION
THIS DOCUMENT IS RF TAGGED ALL MOVEMENTS ARE BEING TRACKED
Mechanical Augmentation, project codename: Heirophant
For understandable reasons, the Thessian recruits joining us are supremely unwilling to undergo any form of genetic modification, but experience has shown that they will require some means of enhancement to measure up to our minimum standard of field operatives. However, the extensive neural augs required for MEC operation suppresses the Thessian natural psionics, which are a powerful tactical resource. For that reason, we have developed an entirely new aug system that should enable the Thessians to be deployed as part of our field squads.
We replaced entirely the arms and legs with advanced aug limbs and added a subdermal carbon nanotube lattice for a form of innate armouring. The eyes also were replaced with optic augs that have vastly improved functionality over any organic eye, including one enhanced with our full optical gene mod package. An implanted rebreather was also added in the trachea, providing immunity to Thin Man gas and other airborne toxins. In order to support these augs, all of which are significantly heavier than their organic counterparts, the individual in question must also have their entire skeletons reinforced with carbon fibre and small amounts of alloy in thin filaments. The final aug we implanted is an artificial node in the oesophagus that filters out certain supplements and implements them into the augs through a system of tubes running parallel to blood vessels, enabling fuel, Meld dosage and even materials for limited self repair to be delivered by ingestion, mixed into a conventional meal.
Since these augs are designed only to replicate the functionality of the organs they replaced the splice sites for the nerves can be placed one level removed from the brain, with the limbs spliced into the spinal column at the appropriate sites and the eyes spliced approximately halfway along the optic nerve. In this way, the augs do not interfere with psionic potential. However, these augs lack the interfacing capabilities of our tech-oriented augs, which would require direct splicing into the motor cortex, and therefore users of these 'combat augs' cannot pilot MEC suits or interface with vehicle or ship systems (excepting the Iconoclast's psionic uplink).
Obviously the implementation of these augs is completely down to the discretion of the individual. Dermal armour and skeletal reinforcement will improve durability in a combat situation, protecting not only against weapon fire but against effects such as fire, high voltage currents or other hazards on the battlefield. Aug arms will give increased strength and steadier aim, as well as well as the ability to support various implements ranging from simple finger claws to collapsible sword blades for melee work. Leg augs will give operatives the ability to run faster, jump higher and fall from great heights without injury, as well as shock absorbers in the feet designed to facilitate silent movement. Finally, the optic augs enable our soldiers to aim far more precisely and over longer ranges, in addition to being able to detect Hyperwave stealth fields over a short distance. These augs are not only available to Thessians but can be adapted to any soldier who desires them, and promise to form the basis of a civilian aug market as well.
Combat Augs available in the Cybernetics lab.
###
HIERARCHY TROOPSHIP 'DEFENDER OF BOSTRA'
Five Turian troopships could carry between them an entire legion of ten thousand men. There were twenty such troopships approaching the southern pole of Tuchanka, each one packed full of Turian soldiers under four generals: Victus, Corinthus, Fedorian and Oraka.
Onboard the Defender of Bostra, Centurion Dama Asplecian smacked her armoured fist against the wall, drawing the attention of the ten men she was responsible for as hundreds of other centurions repeated the action throughout the fleet.
"Listen up! We've just received a shipment of new toys. Command has sent instructions to your Omnitools, I suggest you follow them."
A loader drove past, sitting on its mass effect cushion, and the soldiers of Squad Asplecian leaned over and snagged the cases with their squad number printed on them. Muttering broke out as they examined the cases - they were definitely not Turian military. Each one was a smooth blue-silver cuboid with rounded edges, devoid of marking aside from a serial number and a small button. Shrugging inwardly, Asplecian pressed the button on one of the cases and it popped open, revealing ten bizarre looking devices that glowed with a baleful red light.
"Centurion, are we supposed to replace our mass accelerators with these?"
"If Command says so then yes, we are."
The unit paused as the ship's internal comms crackled, then General Victus's voice came through.
"Attention men. I know you are probably wondering why I have ordered you to replace the mass accelerators in your rifles. The answer is that these are conversion kits that will transform the rifle into a fully functional laser weapon with superior range, accuracy and firepower to the weapons you are used to. I can assure you, when we reach Tuchanka's surface you will need these weapons. That is all."
As soon as the comm system shut down the unit exploded into discussion.
"Laser weapons? Didn't some Salarian just publish a paper explaining why lasers could never be compacted into infantry weapons?"
"Where does this come from anyway? If the Hierarchy had been working on this we would have heard something."
Another one of the men shook his head as he stripped the casing off his Phaeston, exposing the mess of wires and modules that made up the weapon's inner workings.
"If the Hierarchy had been developing infantry laser weapons, we would have. If it came from the Salarians though ... You know how they are with secrets."
"I don't think it's Salarian tech. They're all about performance, no concern for efficiency, aesthetics or ergonomics. Look at this. It's like art."
That drew a couple of chuckles.
"Hey, we're Turians remember? We're supposed to leave art appreciation to the blues."
The assembled soldiers rolled their eyes and groaned almost in unison even as they reassembled their assault rifles around the laser core.
"Not this conspiracy shit again Felthan."
The older male growled in response.
"If you can't see it you must be slow, boy. It's just one of the ways the Asari keep the rest of us in line, by suppressing our culture and pushing theirs onto us."
The soldier next to him sighed and rubbed her forehead.
"You're just sour because despite living on the Citadel for twenty years you haven't met a single Asari who was into you."
The conversation was cut short by the centurion, who slammed a fist against her open palm.
"Stow your shit, Felthan. The rest of you, don't encourage him. Get your rifles modded then scrub up for inspection."
That motivated her men to knuckle down. Her ability to predict surprise inspections was legendary among the legion, after all.
###
STARLIGHT EMBRACE
Despite the cavernous size of the Starlight Embrace's main hangar, the gargantuan vessel could only accommodate a single legion at a time. Since laser conversion kits were still being manufactured as fast as the Starlight Embrace's armoury could crank them out, only one legion were ready for deployment anyway so it worked out quite nicely.
At the front of the hangar, General Victus was joined by three individuals that caused muttering to break out among the ranks of the Turians assembled. A Krogan, a Geth and a species most recognised as one of the Humans they had heard so much about. Each of the individuals was armoured - the Geth with dark grey plating overlying silvery synth-muscles, the Human in dark green armour with black and white rank markings on the right side of the chest next to an oversized shoulder guard that bore a glowing greenish cylinder on it. The Krogan bore a colossal set of armour coloured to match the sands of the planet below, adorned with the insignia of an armoured Krogan fist in deep crimson and thick black stripes across the shoulders that were the personal markings of a Krogan Warlord, lifted straight from history vids about the Rebellions.
"Attention men. These are the local commanders who have taken the time to personally brief you, so I expect your undivided attention and utmost respect. This is Urdnot Wrex, warlord of the Krogan Alignment, Legion, command platform of local Geth forces, and Commander Anderson of XCOM."
After a quick exchange of glances between the three alien commanders, it was the Krogan, Wrex, who stepped up to the podium, to the general surprise of the assembled Turians.
"First of all, Turians, a warning. My people have become more ... humble ... as a result of this war, and we recognise we can't win without help, but if any of you try to provoke us it won't save you from having your skull caved in. Be civil and we can hopefully avoid any friendly fire incidents."
For the ten per cent of the assembled soldiers not smirking at the thought of a humble Krogan, the words shook them to the core. The only thing that could humble a Krogan was an enemy that was superior to them in every way.
"Here's the rogue's gallery of what the Ethereals are throwing at us, and soon enough you, down there."
He launched into the briefing, running through all the foes they faced from Sectoid to Sectopod, taking special care to mention the sniper floaters that had been wreaking havoc on the combined force since their introduction. By the end of the hour long introduction to the Ethereals, every Turian in the room was looking at all the others, wondering which if any of them would be on the return trip.
###
AEGIS MANTLE
"So what do you think?"
Dariel clenched his fist, watching in admiration as the sleek black synthetic muscle shifted to obey his will. He could see each individual microfilament move thanks to the sleek improvements to his eyes currently occupying the sockets in his skull, and yet it felt just like the original, only stronger. He stood from the table on which he had lain for seventy four straight hours of surgery, feeling the tautness in his artificial legs as if they were his own. Ignoring the startled gasps from the various engineers, he launched into a series of martial arts drills, pleasantly surprised by the seamless performance of his artificial limbs.
"Very good. Very good indeed."
With another pleased nod, he sat back down on the table, allowing the engineers, all four of which were sporting some impressive augs of their own, to fuss over him. After they were finally satisfied, he slipped on an XCOM uniform, the sleeves removed as a deference to genetically modified soldiers and serving to showcase his sleek black aug arms.
"Everything checks out. If you experience any malfunction, come see us immediately."
He nodded an affirmative and turned to leave the room when his old Omnitool, the one not integrated into his aug and lying on a bench at the side of the room, buzzed angrily. He picked it up and accepted the call.
"Dariel here."
"Sir, we have a situation at the armoury on Deck 22."
Suddenly nervous, he transferred the call to his aug as he left the room, snagging his plasma pistol and slinging it on his hip.
"I'm en route from the Deck 10 cyber lab. Talk to me."
"The E-cult we were monitoring? They've made a move."
With a curse, he broke into a run.
"I thought you said you had them under control, Suriel!"
"This came out of nowhere, sir. One moment they were debating a leaflet campaign, the next they holed themselves up in the armoury. They're taking potshots at anyone who rounds the corner and they tore apart the guards with psi lances."
Dariel took a running leap and landed on the back of one of the antigravity cars used for moving personnel rapidly around the five kilometre dreadnought. Ignoring the disgruntled shouts of the scientists occupying the vehicle, he leaned over to the driver of the vehicle.
"Deck 22 armoury, stat. Priority zero."
Nodding, the Quarian kid behind the wheel pushed the throttle to maximum, the antigravs whining in protest as the driver hit the comm.
"I need a red line to Deck 22 armoury."
The route appeared on the vehicle's HUD as throughout the ship, bulkheads closed and automatic systems cleared all traffic from the route. It took less than five minutes to traverse the twelve decks and three kilometres between the two locations.
As they pulled up, Dariel leaped off the cart as soon as it came to a halt, motioning the driver to continue his assigned duties even as he strode over to where Suriel was standing with the local guard commander, Captain Yotra Dar-Seumma, a particularly grumpy looking Adraa.
"What are the contents of the armoury?"
The two Thessians accompanying Suriel snapped to attention, saluting Dariel as he approached with a clenched fist pressed to the temple. Suriel himself followed suit a moment later, having been turned away and thus not noticing his arrival. To Dariel's surprise the Adraa and his men also mimicked the Thessian salute, extending him the courtesy of recognition as a senior member of the Thessian community.
"What exactly are the contents of the armoury?
"Small arms mostly. The kicker is two cases of plasma grenades. If they set them all off at once, that's a hell of a detonation."
He nodded, filing the information away.
"Do we have IDs on them?"
Suriel nodded.
"Best guess, there's twenty of them. Seventeen we've confirmed as members of Chaela's group, with at least three unknowns, maybe four."
Captain Dar-Seumma growled and tightened his grip on his plasma sniper.
"You already knew about these nutjobs?"
Dariel took it upon himself to explain.
"As much as we'd like to be united on this issue, a small subset of the Thessian population still harbours misguided sympathies for the Ethereals. Apparently they don't understand that fifty thousand years is plenty of time for fruit to sour. The most active of these were a group under a young woman called Chaela. Rebellious kids mostly, but we were keeping an eye on them all the same. As of yesterday morning the most militant plan they had floated was handing out leaflets in the mess halls."
Dar-Seumma rolled his head, shrugging his shoulders and tensing his arms in anticipation of a good fight.
"That is one hell of a short time for, as you say, fruit to sour. Any idea why they went crazy?"
"No, and I don't like not knowing. But answers will have to wait. Right now our priority has to be getting them out of the armoury without killing them."
"Have to disagree with you there. Those little bastards tore Corporals Smith and Hazt to shreds. They are enemy combatants and should be treated as such."
Dariel clenched his new fists so tightly his augs whined in protest.
"Half of those kids aren't old enough to legally fuck and you want to go in guns blazing?"
"Two of my men are dead, Coura. My mercy levels are at an all time low."
"I realise that, and I don't mean to belittle your loss. Just let me try to resolve this non-lethally. If I fail, then All-Father forgive me, you can take them out."
The Captain paused and considered for a moment.
"You have fifteen minutes to come up with a workable plan. If you haven't got anything at that point I'm going in."
His point was underlined by the arrival of a MEC team at the barricade, their particle cannons held ready.
"Thank you Captain."
"Just fix this. I already have two letters to write and I don't want that number going up."
Dariel beckoned Suriel over and they put their heads together, going over their options via psi link. Arc throwers, flashbangs, tear gas grenades and hand to hand submission were all options if negotiations broke down, but against twenty armed opponents Dariel didn't fancy his chances. They turned to examining the layout of the armoury. There were two entrances, both of which were impossible to approach without any door guards having direct line of sight, and the corridors leading up to the armoury on both sides were outfitted with strobe lights, the rapid changes in light conditions designed to prevent Hyperwave stealth fields or Mimetic Skin from functioning correctly. Any assault would be bloody for both sides. Likewise, gassing them via life support wasn't an option - the Mantle's life support system was a pipework that carried a basic nitrogen-oxygen mixture in liquid form seventy degrees above absolute zero, under intense pressure.
"Our best bet is knockout gas, but we need a delivery system."
"How about a negotiator?"
And so, ten minutes later, Dariel was walking down the corridor under two inexpertly held heavy plasmas, his brand new hands interlaced behind his head and a vest with no less than twelve sedative gas grenades strapped to it hidden beneath his uniform jacket. Still with a plethora of plasma weapons being pointed at him by some decidedly twitchy kids, he stepped into the armoury, finding himself surrounded and face to face with a sneering Chaela.
"So you're here to negotiate? You're wasting your time."
"Why are you doing this Chaela? Less than twenty four hours ago you were discussing a leaflet campaign. Now you're an enemy combatant."
"Enemy combatant? What? No!"
Dariel pressed his advantage.
"You and your buddies killed two XCOM soldiers in cold blood. I'm here to convince you to surrender peacefully. Otherwise the next thing that comes round that corner is a MEC team."
Several of the kids exchanged glances and a muttering broke out as some of their confidence was dashed, replaced with nervous glances. The MECs had a well deserving reputation as unstoppable juggernauts of messy death.
"You're lying! You wouldn't dare!"
"No, I wouldn't. However there is a very angry Adraa round the corner who would. Look, I want to avoid bloodshed, but XCOM can't afford to let you stay in control of this room. After me, they'll send in the MECs, and if that doesn't work they'll decompress the entire sector. If you don't lay down your weapons and come out with me you will die in this room."
"You picked the wrong side! We are Thessian! We belong with the Ethereals! But you know that if we retook our rightful place you'd lose your authority for your seditious thoughts, so you chose to force the Thessian community to become slaves of XCOM!"
Dariel could feel his control of the situation slipping away fast. Chaela's ranting was past misplaced sympathies and was well into borderline worship territory, with a twist of insanity.
"You are the cause of all this! It's your fault! Killing you will make me a hero!"
Shit. Time for plan B. Diving away from the muzzle of the heavy plasma wielded by the insane woman, he pulled the string that was connected to the pins of the riot gas grenades he was carrying. His rebreather aug kicked in, preventing him from being rendered unconscious as thick choking clouds of nerve gas poured out. The kids dropped their plasma weapons, clawing at their throats and clutching their heads. Within seconds they had dropped to the ground, unconscious. Dariel walked backwards into the corridor, keeping his eyes firmly on the kids as he unlatched the gas grenades from the vest and let them drop, tossing them around to ensure the entire armoury was gassed.
"Alright, we're clear."
At his call, XCOM security forces rounded the corner, moving in with handcuffs to secure the unconscious would-be rebels. Dariel supposed he could chalk it up as a victory. Nevertheless, there were questions that needed answering, and he fully intended to answer them.
###
GENEVA
"Commander Hackett, this Council of Nations has ... concerns ... over the implementation of Ethereal technology into civilian society."
Hackett groaned inwardly. Now was not the time for the Council to be difficult. He already had enough problems with the general public seeming to forget their species was a little fish in a big pond and throwing rocks and firebombs at his attempt to increase the size of the fish.
"If you are referring to the Nigerian situation ..."
"Situaton?" The Nigerian delegate was a large proponent of the 'shout and gesticulate' school of public speaking. "Your attack dogs opened fire on a peaceful demonstration with plasma weapons!"
"Firstly, peaceful demonstrators don't carry automatic weapons and Molotov cocktails. Secondly, my men opened fire above the crowd to encourage them to disperse. You may not believe it but XCOM operators are capable of recognising the difference between a mob of angry civilians and a Muton fire team."
The whole gene clinic situation was going to hell in a hand basket, accelerated even quicker since Ashland had gone ahead and added on civilian aug facilities. On top of the religious and/or squeamish crazies and their riots, there was a more intellectual group of opponents out there who were calling for tighter regulation. On top of that other corporations were demanding a slice of EAC's pie. To put the cherry on the cake, the Council were taking their sweet time ratifying his HERA proposal, which would simultaneously satisfy the regulationists and allow other corporations to play with gene and aug tech in a controlled manner by creating an autonomous body, the Human Enhancement Regulation Authority, which would have to test and approve new mods or augs before release to civilians (of course run behind the scenes by XCOM, but semantics).
"Representatives, this whole issue would be far more simple if you would just grant authority to HERA. In fact, I propose we put it to a vote right now."
"Very well. All those in favour of the HERA proposal, enter your vote on your console. Likewise all those against or who wish to abstain. Voting is anonymous, as per usual."
Hackett entered his own vote (for, of course) and glanced either side to the three non-human representatives. All three of them tended to vote with Hackett, making up part of an XCOM affiliated voting block that was rounded off by the UK, Canada and the Russian Federation. Having cast his own vote, he watched the rest of them piling up on the voting board, his fingers crossed.
"The Council votes for the immediate ratification of HERA with a seventy four per cent positive vote."
Hackett let out a relieved breath. He still had ninety nine problems but at least he could cross that particular vote off the list.
###
AEGIS MANTLE
"Well, HERA's announcement took the edge off, but a lot of people still aren't happy. Whole neighbourhoods have started declaring themselves 'pure' - no modded or auged individuals allowed. Some of the seedier ones have even taken to enforcing that rule. In response pro-futurists tend to gather in the city centres, where they make life very difficult for anti-futurists."
Hackett frowned as he listened to Bradford's report.
"So they're effectively sectioning themselves off. Self-segregation at its finest."
"Exactly. If this trend continues we could see a major societal schism forming."
Hackett cursed under his breath. His vision of a bold future didn't involve an underclass of purists.
"Various corporations are offering serious pay incentives to employees to get modded or auged as well. If this trend continues we could see a wealth divide forming among the ideological lines. Eventually it will reach the point where it's 'mods or out'."
"That might encourage people to get modded who otherwise wouldn't."
"Maybe, but it would be one hell of a messy transition."
Hackett groaned and rubbed his forehead, not looking forward to the inevitable migraine.
"The genie's out of the bottle now. The question is how do we mitigate the damage?"
###
CODEX: Mechanical Augmentations
Although gene mods are by far the more popular and glamorous option, mechanical augmentations, or 'augs' as they are known in XCOM parlance, are also prevalent not only among XCOM personnel but more recently have exploded onto the civilian market as an alternative to genetic modification. The most famous example, the MEC interface, notwithstanding, augs are the preferred choice among those with a close affinity for technology.
There are two main types of aug available to civilians – those disguised to look and behave exactly like organic body parts and those which are designed to flaunt their artificial nature, with the black synth-muscle fibres either exposed completely or covered in ornately decorated carbon fibre plates. Generally speaking, covert augs are designed to perfectly replicate the functionality of an organic part as well, whereas overt augs often incorporate additional features ranging from increased strength to wireless connectivity and even built in tools such as a screwdriver in a fingertip or a wrist mounted arc welder.
Covert augs are limited solely to the replacement of lost body parts either through birth defect or injury, but the market of the overt aug is rapidly expanding in two main directions. Practical augs tend to be plain synth-muscle, occasionally covered in a form of armoured dermis, with practical functions and are popular among those who regularly work with mechanical or electronic systems. These range from toolkit arms for construction workers to neuro-ocular augs that enable the brain to directly wirelessly interface with nearby computers, useful in the IT business, even so far as artificial filters in the trachea for those who work with hazardous gases. The other half of the equation is fashion augs. These are expensive augs usually covered in a thin carbon fibre dermis upon which decorative patterns can be inscribed. Any additional features that these augs carry are likely to be little more than gimmicks, including implanted cellphones in the arms, universal remote controls, glowing eyes or purely aesthetic enhancements ranging from simple metallic ridges to a functioning yet totally unnecessary external clockwork mechanism.
The place where overt augs are most common are in the nascent but rapidly growing Spacer community, which at the moment consists of the crews of XCOM warships and a handful of EAC technicians that have taken up permanent residence in one of the orbital stations. The other groups where augs seem more popular than gene mods are the Quarians, who exhibit a roughly even population of aug users and gene mod users, and Thessians, who have a strong racial bias against genetic alterations of any kind and thus have dove straight into the aug market.
Thanks to the prevalence of the nanoforge in aug clinics, as well as the ease of Meld synthesis, and both genetic modification and augs are easily affordable on a modest salary, meaning neither are the sole province of the super-rich. Aug technology, along with genetic enhancement, is definitely a hot topic in political and economic circles. Companies ranging from vehicle manufacturers like Mercedes-Benz to computer giants HP and Dell are clamouring to get access to aug technology but it is being very tightly held onto by EAC, where XCOM can regulate exactly what does and does not get into the hands of civilians. The political opposition to augs is if anything even stronger than that of gene mods, with many major religious groups condemning those who use gene mods and augs, what is swiftly becoming known as the Futurist or Posthumanist movement. Almost all the opposition comes from human elements, with a tiny fraction of the Quarian population and a handful of Thessians sharing the anti-modification and anti-augmentation sentiments.
Although the psi-aug conflict has been solved by shifting the aug control chips to a different side of the motor cortex, the neural circuitry definitely has a damping effect on the power of a psionic impulse that can be sent out. The heavier the neural interfacing the weaker the individual's offensive psionic abilities are, with the most heavily augmented, MEC pilots with almost 60 per cent of their body being artificial, able only to access the network. The gene-aug conflict, regrettably, is impossible to resolve – the two forms of Meld used are violently incompatible and result in the aug being rejected by the body, usually with serious errors creeping into the gene mods as well.