"Com- in… -ver. Whi- For- over. Do y- -ead?" The voice flickered in an out of focus on the radio.
Moira was fiddling with the controls in an attempt to get the incoming transmission clearer, but it was proving to be a difficult task. It could be a number of issues when it came to the signal. Old equipment, broken hardware, long-distance, or even the satellites in orbit finally breaking down. It might not even be on Moira's end of the connection.
Since she woke up that morning, Chell had been working non-stop to keep the ship going as efficiently as possible to reach land ahead of schedule, but she wasn't an engineer. That's something she knew, at least.
Moira had suggested they try to increase the signal on the radio to receive rebel frequencies. All rebels operate on different frequencies depending on where they lived, but she had been fortunate to once have been part of the underground city rebellion of City 12 in what used to be London. They would often communicate with the City 17 rebels to coordinate and get ideas of how to transport people across the wastelands and avoid Combine outposts.
After being moved to City 1 three years ago, Moira had quickly joined the rebel group there and took her spot as a communications specialist. Then a year ago, she had managed to break out of the city with a small group of citizens and rebels to brave the outside world. Then a few weeks ago, when City 17 fell, she had devoted her time to communicating with all rebel outposts within the broadcast distance of City 1. She had recently managed to contact a small yet thriving encampment located in the middle of the forest, located just over a hundred miles away from the warehouse district they had been living in. Being able to get a signal that far away with the beat-up equipment from before was an accomplishment.
So the idea of tinkering with new radios using Combine energy was exciting because she could manipulate the correct frequencies to piggyback on the Combine's airwaves. She just had to find any potentially listening rebels across Europe.
The only problem was that some of the Combine tech relied on the outdated satellite grid from before the invasion. If that grid went down, then she'd have to go back to using citizen band radios boosted with satellite dishes and any scrap she could find.
So as Moira fiddled with the controls, she prayed that the signal would stabilize. And as if someone was listening to her prayers, she finally managed to get the frequency as the once static laced voice came through with clarity.
If her suspicions were correct, whoever was on the other end was the same that pinged their location a couple hours ago.
"Come in. Can you read me, over!"
Chell placed a hand on Moira's shoulder and smiled, "Great job."
"I know," Moira laughed as she picked up the headset and placed it over her head.
"This is the Aleana. Unknown signal, identify yourself," Moira responded, voice turning losing the joviality she had before.
'Since when did the ship have a name,' Chell thought. She didn't dwell on it long as she was focused on the radio.
"Aleana. State your location," the voice responded.
"Not until you identify first," Moira returned.
"Please state your location, Aleana… Prove yourself."
Chell paused as she listened to the voice on the other side of the radio. It had trailed off as if they were thinking carefully of what to say next. Whoever was on the other side was probably just as suspicious of her ship as they were of the voice.
"Yeah, like that's going to happen. This isn't some wolf at the door, so no surprises from me," Moira snapped back.
There was silence on the other end for a few moments before chuckling could be heard. "Read you loud and clear, Aleana. This is communications officer Zhao of White Forest Base. Alright, Aurelia, mind sharing your location now?"
Whatever had happened between the tense lines spoken between the two radio operators? Some sort of code, or was there something else? Chell would make a note to ask Moira about it later.
In the meantime, she would continue to listen in on the conversation between the two radio operators.
"Near the southern tip of Spain. Should be entering the Mediterranean Sea within the next few hours. Moira explained, body slouching in the chair with one hand going behind her head to rest.
"Glad to hear it. We can-"
"-Is that them?" Another voice called only it was muffled as it said from across the room from the radio operator on the other side of the line.
"Huh? Oh, uh- Hey!"
Zhao was protesting and there was the sound of static on the other end, but that questioning voice was coming in loud and clear moments later. The moment Chell heard it, her entire body froze.
"This is Dr. Arne Magnusson of White Forest. Is this ship located as latitude 45.44 and longitude -9.45?" The man had an angry voice, but Chell could hear the frantic tone beneath it all.
"Just a hunch, but you guys the ones who pinged us yesterday?" Moira asked, voice turning more aggressive.
Chell felt like she was in a different place. She was no longer on the bridge, but instead... She was nowhere yet somewhere. She was in an area that didn't exist, yet she'd known about it her entire life. Why did that voice trigger something in her?
"Just answer the question, would you? We don't have long until the signal cuts out!"
"Dr. Magnusson, if you know out location, what can I do for you? You aren't an RH, but you wish to speak with us. So, what do you want?" Moira drawled. She was obviously annoyed by the interruption he caused, but at the same time, she was interested in what could be important enough for the base to have pinged them the earlier and initiate contact.
There was a grunting sound on the other end, and the first waves of static were filtering in. "Confound it all, generator three is acting up again! Look, I'll cut to the chase. There should be a woman with you. Dark hair with blue eyes. Her name is Chell!"
Moira's eyes flickered to Chell.
Chell's eyes flickered to the radio.
No one said anything as Chell found her hands reaching for the second set of headphones on the desk next to Moira. Her hands fumbled for a moment as she pressed the button to allow the other side to hear her voice.
"How do you know my name?" Despite her rush to grab the second headset, Chell's voice came out hesitant.
There was a deafening silence on the other side before the man with the angry voice spoke again, only much softer than before. "Chell? Is that really you?"
The static was getting worse.
"You said your name was Dr. Magnusson? How do you know who I am?" Her voice was less nervous and more accusatory. Just how did the Magnusson guy know who she was?
"Chell, it's me, A- Magnusson! We-"there was a long string of static then a slew of curses as the voice came back into frequency. "No- time… Come to White- rest. Explain every- alright? Dock -dinates!"
The signal was getting worse and worse, but Chell could understand what was being said. If she wanted answers, she needed to get to White Forest.
There was another ping over coms, but this time there was a solid message attached. With some quick work, Chell was able to get the point across. It was a set of coordinates.
"Copy that. I'll be there soon."
With a destination set, Chell instructed those on the bridge to head for the southeast coast of the Balkans.
"No, no, no! You are telling me that Gordon Freeman isn't some evil genius with ninja skills?" Adrian laughed between bites of food.
Barney guffawed as he nodded his head. "Evil genius with ninja skills? Where did you get that idea? Unless MIT has a minor in being a supervillain."
Adrian coughs violently as he nearly inhaled some food from laughing too hard. He pounded his chest and swallowed hard to get the food down before continuing. "Come on, Barn. I just find it hard to believe that a man who kills aliens and soldiers with ease on the regular spent his Saturday mornings in pajamas, eating cereal, and watching Star Trek reruns."
Barney shrugs his shoulders and smiles, "I know. I tried to get him into Star Wars instead, but the nerd preferred his intergalactic field trips over saving a galaxy. I mean, Han Solo would kick Kirk's ass."
"You would say that, cowboy," Adrian groaned.
"Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker."
Adrian smiled at that, "And there's a movie we can agree on enjoying. Die Hard is a classic."
"Damn straight. Used to watch it every Christmas with my folks back in Oregon. Christmas morning would be opening presents, a big breakfast of bacon, eggs, fruit, and chocolate chip pancakes. Then we'd watch Die Hard before the extended family would show up lunch," Barney rambled. As he spoke, he gently prodded at the powdered eggs, boiled headcrab, and slices of a ration pack. Damn, he missed his old life.
Adrian smiled sadly at Barney. What had been only a few months to Adrian had been decades for his new friend.
Oh god… Adrian frowned to himself as he thought of his parents. Had they survived the invasion? Did they believe him dead or that he somehow survived but was too far away to ever reach? They could be anywhere…
As if sensing what he was thinking about, Barney sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry, man. I just get sentimental sometimes, and I forgot for a moment."
Adrian shook his head. "It's fine. I think it's better that I don't know what happened. Gives me something to hope for, right?"
Barney couldn't count the number of times he heard that over the last twenty years. So many people have lost family members to skirmishes, separation by movements around the cities, or surprise raids in apartment blocks. So many people would find that the only family they had would be missing, and there was nothing they could do other than hope they were alive somewhere. Sure, some gave up on everything in the end, but it was the ones who had faith that kept Barney fighting.
There was once a woman who was separated from her husband by the civil protection. She didn't know where he went, but she never gave up hope that he was alive somewhere. Barney had thought he was 'taken for questioning,' and that would be it for him, but she never gave up.
It was in the uprising of City17 that the outlying rebels stormed the city to aide the ones already inside. He had been leading a group of refugees through a sewer to get to the train station when they were ambushed by Overwatch Soldiers. The hopeful woman was with him and ensuring she always had a spare clip or magazine for him when he needed it in his fight. He was down to his last pulse rifle magazine when a band of rebels rushed in and saved the day.
Among those rebels was a man with tired eyes, but when he saw the woman, there was a spark of life. He couldn't stop the woman as she ran into the arms of that man in the most touching and tearful reunion he had seen. They didn't even care about the corpses and smell of feces, because they had each other once again.
It showed Barney just what hope could provide in such a hopeless situation.
"Yeah… Guess you're right, Shep," he smiled.
Moments later, they were disturbed by both Doctors Kleiner and Magnusson coming to their table, the latter slamming his hands flat with more force than necessary. His eyes were frantic as he looked between the two.
"Sorry, Barney. I tried to get him to be patient-"
"I need you to do something for me immediately, Calhoun," Magnusson stated, voice leaving no room to question him. Barney had never seen the man with that expression before.
Barney floundered for a moment as he adjusted to the change in the man. "Uh… sure doc. What'cha need?"
"There's a ship that's going to be docking along the northern coast of Albania. I need you to go there with the marine and meet the people getting off and get them back here as soon as you can. It's vital!"
"I have a name," Adrian grumbled under his breath. If Magnusson heard him, he gave no sign of it as his focus was solely on Barney.
Then Magnusson did something that surprised both Barney and Kleiner as they knew him better than Adrian. The man reached out and placed both hands on Barney's shoulders and said, "Please, Calhoun. I need you to do this for me…"
Holy shit… Magnusson willingly said the 'P' word and touched someone? Was he sick?
Barney was at a loss for words. His mouth was just opening and closing much like a fish at the shock of hearing Magnusson ask something politely.
"Can you do this for me?" Magnusson asked, voice softer than Barney had ever heard it before.
The man took in a large breath and nodded his head. "Y- Yeah… I… We can do that for you."
Magnusson's shoulders visibly relaxed as he removed his hands from Calhoun's shoulders. Then he took a deep breath before straightening up and taking on his former sneer at everything as if they hadn't seen his momentary lapse in character. "Be sure to leave as soon as you can. I'll have the coordinates you need waiting for you in the garage."
Magnusson didn't dare look back at the two stunned men and the one confused soldier.
"I take it that is a rare occurrence?" Adrian said, wanting to try and get rid of the awkward silence.
Barney looked to Adrian as if he just remembered he was even there. "You could say that."
"Indeed," Kleiner added.
The atmosphere was still awkward, so Adrian decided to pipe up again. "By the way, Barney. Die Hard isn't a Christmas movie."
Adrian was already laughing as Barney turned on him, "Okay, first of all-"
As Magnusson walked down the hall back to his lab, he pulled the grainy photo of Chell from his pocket and stared at it. Just a couple more days, and he'd get his answers.