Survive, Adapt, Win Chapter 4 (Original chapter Chapter 43)
A Week Later
Meeting Room, XCOM Headquarters, Taylor Hebert's Mindscape
"So, Doctor Vahlen." the Commander said, as the three members of the original Command Staff settled into their seats. "You said in your memo that you had managed to get something out of that tinkertech jalopy of Squealer's?"
"That is correct, Commander." the German replied with a respectful nod. "The device that interested us most was, of course, the invisibility device that was the primary utility of the vehicle, which was made from two different Estate cars. Interestingly enough, it isn't actually invisibility, nothing quite as simple as bending light around the target, or anything similar to a chameleon's process of camouflage. It does involve aspects of both of those, but it is actually mostly something along the lines of an attention avoidance field."
"As in something that diverts attention away from something?" Central asked with raised brows. "Like that 'Nice Guy' character that was a member of the Slaughterhouse Nine a few years ago?"
"Substantially similar, but slightly more powerful." Vahlen said with a slight frown. "Instead of simply seeing the presence of the car as unremarkable and ignorable like 'Nice Guy' had the ability to do, this field actively erases the majority of its presence from all human ability to recognize it. What parts aren't affected by the field are covered by an invisibility generator, an active camouflage system, ECM and even a form of electronic spoofing device, all integrated together. It really is a remarkable set of systems."
"So what's got you worked up about it?" Shen asked knowingly.
Throwing her Engineering counterpart a look, the Head of Science and Research sighed. "The entire system requires a specific form of power, which Squealer supplies with a homemade fuel that mixes crack cocaine, heroine, gasoline, unrefined diesel, several additives used to boost engine performance, as well as what appears to be a crude form of homemade vodka. The unique chemical reaction caused by the engine burning this mix as a fuel supplies the power for the entire stealth system. Obviously, such a mixture is also highly toxic, noxious and unstable. It amazes me that the engine hasn't blown up already."
"We are not using an engine that uses drugs." the Commander put in firmly.
"My opinion exactly, Commander." the German woman nodded. "Thankfully, using our additional laboratories that you have provided for us, my team and I have managed to invent an engine that produces the exact same power source that the crude engine Squealer built does, but without the terrible fuel components or the hard wear and tear it causes. It isn't very fuel efficient, however, and the fuel in question is hard to manufacture. I can recommend that only a single Sky Ranger aircraft be retrofitted with this engine, at least until I can improve both the fuel consumption and ease of manufacture of the fuel."
"Can that be done?" Taylor questioned Central and Doctor Shen. "I was under the impression that we only have the one Sky Ranger at hand?"
"I was as well, but evidently, as you have become increasingly more powerful, more of our original inventory of aircraft have become available to us, Commander." Central answered. "We have access to our backup Sky Ranger, as well as four Raven Interceptors, in addition to a plethora of spare parts and fuel for them as well. It should be noted, however, that a Raven is only slightly in advance of current American military technology, so deploying them is ill-advised against anything with a substantial amount of tinkertech as a part of its design. Until you manage to manifest one of the base's sets of exterior hanger bay doors, however, the viability of a Sky Ranger is somewhat moot."
The Commander grimaced at that. Despite the fact that they had seven generators running at maximum capacity, she wasn't able to manifest any of the hanger doors for more than twenty seconds, which wasn't nearly long enough for anything but a single hastily (and thus badly) prepared Raven to take off. Not nearly good enough.
"Didn't you once mention some sort of advanced generator that the original XCOM base had during their war with the Ethereals?" Taylor asked.
"The Elerium Generators." Shen confirmed. "We still have the blueprints on file, oddly enough. We've lost all designs for the original weaponry and armor that we developed, much to Doctor Vahlen's ire, but that remains. I would assume that we retained them due to the base having included them as an integral part of itself. They provide five times the amount of power that a standard Power Generator does, on conservative estimates, and is even half-again as good as a Thermo Power Plant, which can't be used here, for obvious reasons."
"OK, what's stopping us from replacing all of our current generators with Elerium Generators?" the dark-haired girl asked.
"They require two UFO Power Sources to be built into it." Doctor Vahlen answered. "That's in addition to thirty units of Elerium and forty units of Alien Alloys, not to mention the rest of the mundane construction materials. As of now, we have no UFO Power Sources, and only the barest amount of the other two resources ."
"Well, damn." Taylor sighed.
"Commander, your Parahuman power seems to 'reward' you for every fight you take part in, especially against other Parahumans." Central said with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Thus far, it has focused on giving us materials, but now that you are aware of the existence of UFO Power Sources, it could give you some if you keep such an idea at the forefront of your mind when in combat."
"It's worth a try, if nothing else." Taylor agreed. "Is there anything else that I should be made aware of?"
"Commander, one of the designs that we have access to is the S.H.I.V., the Super Heavy Infantry Vehicle." Shen said with a nod. "As with all of the improved designs, we lost them during our arrival on Earth Bet, but the basic design is part and parcel of the standard compliment of XCOM's data-banks. Although they appear to be autonomous robotic weapons, they are in fact controlled by operators here in the base. Against enemies with poison, venom or other anti-organic abilities, they are invaluable. I would suggest manufacturing a squad's complement for field deployment as and when required."
"You saw information on Bonesaw, didn't you?" Taylor asked flatly.
"I...deemed it wise to look for enemies against whom it would not be wise to send conventional members of XCOM against." the old engineer said carefully. "Even a MEC Trooper would be hard-pressed to guard against the likes of Bonesaw."
"Agreed." the Commander sighed. "Alright, build some. What's the standard weapon for these things?"
"The same as a MEC Trooper, a minigun." Shen answered. "I believe Doctor Vahlen has an alternative for if we have to deploy them against regular humans, however..."
"Indeed. It is, as with the electrolasers I have designed recently, a less-lethal weapon, applying some things I learned when I invented the electro-burst laser, the shotgun variant." Vahlen stated. "Rather than individual rounds, this new weapon shall unleash a blast of pure energy centered around a single point, exploding into a wave that incapacitates anything caught within its blast radius. It won't harm most people thanks to safety governors on its output, but there is always the possibility that it could affect someone's pacemaker of what-have-you. Nothing is absolutely certain when it comes to weapons, I am afraid."
"All I can ask you to do is to do your best in this regard, Doctor Vahlen." Taylor said. "OK, have half of the S.H.I.V. Units outfitted with these...what name have you given them, Doctor?"
"The technical name is 'electro-blast cannon', but my team has taken to referring to them as Shock Cannons." Vahlen answered.
"OK. I want half of them outfitted with Shock Cannons. I also want all of the parts necessary to quickly and efficiently either swap out their weapons for their original armament, or retrofit the other three with Shock Cannons." Taylor ordered. "Can a MEC unit use them?"
"Without further research to miniaturize and streamline their systems, I'm afraid not, Commander." Vahlen shook her head at once.
"Hmm. Finish the laser tech first." the Commander decided after a moment's thought. "It's only a matter of time before Lung breaks Oni Lee out of prison, and once he has Lee's mobility back, he'll likely start looking to prove that the ABB are as strong as ever."
"A member of our team was called Shaojie 'Chilong' Zhang, Commander." Central said with a thoughtful expression. "He was a member of the Triads prior to seeking asylum and joining up with us. If you could focus on recruiting him when next you search for recruits, he would doubtlessly be able to offer insights into the members of their organization that remain cohesive within the ABB."
"Noted." Taylor nodded. "Doctor Vahlen, I'll see about acquiring more examples of Tinkertech for you to reverse engineer, since it's plain that you and your team are doing a superlative job in turning them into items that XCOM can use. Pass my appreciation on to your team and tell them that tonight, their money's not good at the bar."
"Thank you, Commander." the woman looked proud.
"OK, so...is there any other business before I leave for the night?" the Commander asked.
"Just two things from me, Commander." Shen said. "First, that the Cybernetics Lab is built and ready for operation. My engineers have assembled the MEC-1 Warden and we just need to perform the appropriate surgery on Squaddie Gardener."
"OK. Keep me posted on her status." Taylor winced as she remember the briefing files on the surgery needed for becoming a MEC Trooper; having all four limbs cut off and replaced with mechanical prosthetics. Very good prosthetics that were helped greatly by the MELD used in their creation and were just as articulate and usable as the original limbs, if not more-so, but still...
"Will do, Commander." Shen nodded. "Secondly, I would like permission to build a lab that proved to be very useful in our past...the Foundry." the elderly man stated. "It's where volatile tests and builds are conducted, allowing us engineers to work on weapon and armor improvements, freeing Doctor Vahlen and her staff up to tackle the more esoteric among the research projects."
Vahlen harrumphed slightly at that, but nodded begrudgingly. "Not having to research minute adjustments and add-ons to the weapons did save my team a considerable amount of time, Commander. I endorse Doctor Shen's idea."
"Very well. When both of you agree on something, that means it's an excellent idea." Taylor nodded. "Have it constructed and then give me a list of projects that you'd like to have done, and I'll sort them in order of priority."
"I'll have a list to you of all current projects that fall under the Foundry's jurisdiction by this time tomorrow, Commander." the elderly Asian man nodded. "It should take about ten days to build fully."
With that, the briefing broke up and Taylor vanished from XCOM HQ, returning to her bed for the night.
The Next Day
Director's Office, PRT ENE Building
"Director, how was the meeting?" Miss Militia asked politely.
"Interesting." Director Piggot replied shortly. "Chief Director Costa-Brown is being remarkably...insistent, shall we say, that I recruit Commander into the Wards or Protectorate."
"Is this due to her capture of Skidmark last week?" the Kurdish-American woman asked with a look of minor surprise on her face. "I would think that her earlier victories over Oni Lee and Hookwolf would have made more of an impression."
"Skidmark's capture was the straw which broke the camel's back." Piggot growled. "She's struck all three of the big gangs, and is making us look bad by comparison. Her avoidance of us is also hurting our credibility."
The Director's expression soured. "In addition, my requested for further Capes, manpower and funding have been denied, again. This is approaching ridiculous levels of neglect by the National Protectorate and PRT."
"Ma'am." Miss Militia said neutrally.
Emily sighed in aggravation. Normally Miss Militia's obedience to her superiors was a balm on her soul, making her the unquestioned favorite of hers among the roster of Capes in the entirety of the Protectorate, but when she refused to say or act against her superiors when they were being idiotic, it was slightly grating.
"Commander has been inactive since her last engagement with the Merchants." she changed the subject. "Do you suppose she is forming a new strategy? Or is she preparing for something more ambitious?"
"I couldn't say." the female Cape shook her head as she answered. "I've never even met her before. She seems to have her own agenda, yes, but what it could be is beyond me."
Piggot hated Capes as a rule. What she disliked more were Capes who had and agenda outside of doing their jobs. They all thought that their powers made them oh-so superior, when they were just as flawed as any regular person. Just as prone to turn tail and flee like cowards, leaving those who had depended on them to die.
Forcing the memories of Ellisburg back for the nth time since the debacle, Emily let out a sigh. "Well, whatever she is after, we must be seen to make every effort to recruit her. Miss Militia, you are the designated point of contact with Commander. Stress every possible advantage to joining the Protectorate and Wards. We have to at least try the diplomatic route."
"Director?" the Cape asked cautiously.
"Lone Capes like Commander will eventually break the law, Miss Militia." Piggot said with certainty. "Just like Shadow Stalker did. When that happens, the gloves come off. Then it'll be a choice between prison or joining the Protectorate, with none of the bells and whistles."
"And if Commander continued to refuse to meet with us and commits no crimes?" Miss Militia asked quietly.
"Then I can report to my superiors that I have done all I could." the Director spread her arms helplessly. "If I want to recruit her, I first have to nail her down long enough to make the pitch. If she's going to avoid contact with any member of the PRT or Protectorate, I can do nothing."
Either way, to Emily Piggot's mind, she won. Either she tried and was rebuffed, or Commander would give her an excuse to force the issue. Oh, if she failed to recruit Commander, the Chief Director would get sarcastic and bitchy, but really, there was no one who wanted the PRT ENE Director's position, aside from possibly that warmonger James Tagg. No one else would be eager to take control of such a hellishly difficult assignment as this dying city.
And yes, Emily Piggot was realistic enough to see that Brockton Bay was dying. Choked to death financially by the drop in sea-trade thanks to Leviathan, and then further choked by the stranglehold that the three big gangs had on the city. Hampered by a lack of interest and support by the National Protectorate and PRT, it was only Piggot's draconian balancing act that had prevented the city from imploding in an orgy of violence so far.
A Master-class Parahuman capable of creating soldier-projections would be an invaluable boost to the governmental forces in Brockton Bay, especially if the tinkertech weaponry that Commander had upgraded her projections with could be analyzed by Dragon or Armsmaster. Not to mention the possibility of her remotely commanding them from the safety of a specially built van or something. Even if she was Wards-age, that would be an acceptable use of such a Master.
Sadly, however, Commander seemed determined to ignore the PRT and Protectorate after Armsmaster had bungled things up due to his social skills being so sub-par it wouldn't surprise Piggot if he accidentally insulted someone when ordering a cup of coffee.
'As if a single person, a Parahuman even, has the ability to pull this city out of the spiral that it's in.' the obese woman sneered to herself, before ending the meeting with Miss Militia and going to have more dialysis done.
Several Nights Later
Docks Area, Brockton Bay
The armored form of Commander looked down at the warehouse that held a dog-fighting ring. It was among the locations that the computer guys in XCOM HQ had managed to locate by hacking various databases around Brockton Bay. It had come as a very large shock to discover that Medhall, one of the largest remaining businesses in Brockton Bay, was a front for the Empire 88. She had ordered Vahlen and Shen to start researching and building a computer lab specifically for monitoring and hacking purposes.
"Still shocked, Commander?" Central asked her.
"Somewhat." the armored girl replied softly. "They've made themselves practically fortified in the Bay, Central. Almost a quarter of the jobs that people get in the Bay, even for the Dockworker's Association, comes from Medhall. Shipping crates, manning counters, hiring secretaries...the works. If I take out Medhall as I dearly want to, then I practically drive one of the last nails in the coffin for Brockton Bay. I could sound its death knell."
"The logical plan there would be to create a business that could rival them, Commander. One that could prop the Bay up when Medhall falls." Bradford offered. "A lot of the rank and file Neo Nazi footsoldiers are just idiot bullies wanting to make themselves feel better by discriminating on others. Without their Capes to back them up, without a legitimate front to provide them with financial support, they'll be easy pickings. The more problematic ones will be the true believers."
"And there's the other gangs to worry about, Central." Commander pointed out. "If the Empire falls alone, the ABB and Merchants will run rampant. We're going to have to take them down at the same time. That means finding something to deal with goddamn Lung."
The words 'without killing him' were unsaid, but clearly present there.
"Doctor Vahlen will find something that works, Commander." Central reassured her. "Also, the satellite's just passing overhead now. There's a whole bunch of people there, tentatively estimated to be four dozen in the stands alone. That's ignoring canines and the 'staff' at this disgusting event."
"Has Doctor Shen finished producing the Arc Throwers?" Taylor questioned.
"Yes, ma'am. Strike One has been issued with them and are standing by for insertion as we speak." the Number Two of XCOM reported smartly.
"Very good." the young woman hesitated for a moment. "Have Squaddie Gardener on standby, just in case we run into someone that the regular soldiers can't handle. There's a funny feeling in the air..."
"Roger that, Commander." Central replied. He knew better than to question his superior. Several times, Taylor's hunches had allowed Strike One to overcome foes more powerful than they were. It had been the same for the Commander on Earth X as well. Central was a solid commander, with an excellent grasp of the minutiae of military matters and administration. He was also unafraid to grab a gun and fight, but he was only average at tactics and strategy, lacking any kind of 'insight' in that regard.
Hey, he was brutally honest about his shortcomings, if nothing else.
When Taylor summoned Strike One, she grinned as she beheld them. All six were band new Ranger-class soldiers, the Neural Blades over their shoulders and their streamlined armor marking them apart from the Assaults.
"OK Strike One, this is Operation Broken Hound." Commander said briskly, wondering if the Mission Random Name Generator that was in XCOM HQ wasn't a lot more sentient that she'd given it credit for. "The target is that warehouse over there, which is housing a dog-fighting ring run by the Empire 88. There are four-dozen spectators and an unknown amount of dogs, skinheads and possible Capes inside. In your Skeleton Suits, the dogs and guards will be hard-pressed to cause you serious harm, but the Capes are the wildcards, as always. Questions?"
"What Capes might be on-site, Ma'am?" Orson asked.
"Hookwolf is no longer a part of the equation, at least for the moment, so it's likely that Capes belonging to his 'faction' of the Empire will be here." Commander replied with an approving nod. "That means Stormtiger and Cricket are likely, possibly throwing in Rune, Victor and Othala as well, but that last one is highly unlikely as she's a rear-line support Cape. You've all been briefed on the Empire Capes and their capabilities?"
"Yes, Ma'am!" came back at her.
"Good. Remember, when in doubt, shoot the Cape." the leader of XCOM said. "None of the Capes that could be here should be able to stop your electrolaser weapons from hitting them, but Rune can throw things at you, so be aware of those."
"Ma'am, don't worry. Nazi bastards won't know what hit 'em!" Garson said confidently, the rest of Strike One nodding in sync.
"Good. Let's hustle, people. We have some dogs in need of rescue, and Nazi scum in need of a lesson." the Commander gestured at the warehouse. "Orson, Mendez, head up to the roof and be stealthy about it. Garson, you lead the rest of the team around to the 'staff entrance'. If you spot a guard, take him out and storm the place."
"Can do, Ma'am." her team chorused at her before using their arm-mounted grapnel hooks to drop to the ground, the two-man cell then ascending to the rooftop to take up Overwatch positions on the roof, preferably near skylights so they could drop grenades in or rappel down as needed.
Meanwhile, she took cover behind an air vent outlet and closed her eyes, giving her a panoramic overview of the battlefield. Taylor focused on Garson and the others as they snuck up to the rear entrance of the warehouse. It was, through a number of shell companies, owned by Medhall, which was how the XCOM hackers had found it while strolling through their databases.
"Contact. One skinhead on guard." Garson radioed softly. Zooming in a bit, Taylor spotted the guard in question. He was yawning lazily and reaching for a packet of cigarettes and lighter that were sticking up out of his denim vest.
"Mendez, stealth in close and take him down with the Arc Thrower." she ordered. "Mei-Li, cover him while he does that."
"Roger that. Going in for the kill."
"Roger, on Overwatch."
Mendez, according to his file, was from Texarkana, and had been a very competent member of the Green Berets before being recruited for XCOM. His ability to move quietly and without drawing notice was very, very good...not that it was needed, because the skinhead had the danger sensing abilities of a concussed lemming. The Arc Thrower was less than six inches from his head before he realized that something was up. Then Mendez pulled the trigger.
Out like a light.
As the insensate body of the skinhead collapsed to the ground, Taylor let a smile break through her usual business face for a moment. So far, so good.
"Orson, Mei-Li, report."
"Lots of skinheads down there, Commander. Not to mention sick fucks who think making two animals fight for no good reason is entertainment." Orson replied, his gruff voice holding a hint of anger and disgust.
"We have confirmed that Cricket is present, but there is no sign of Stormtiger, Victor or Rune." Mei-Li added. "Orders, Commander?"
And I'll end it there for the moment.
This is actually a very interesting ficlet to write. I am glad that Shadows of Vanity...or HistoricalHijinks as they've changed their name to...adopted it. I just wish my muse would shut up about these things for five minutes! TT_TT