Everything looked straight to him, but the feel of an unanticipated pull to his flank made him realise that he was sideways. The plane had made a turn and began its descent as it was aligned with the runway. Such planes almost felt primitive. The Commander had gotten too used to vertical-takeoff. What bugged him more was the sudden build of pressure in his ears. His secondary sense would be hindered for a while.
The descent was swift and Henry hit the ground sooner than he had anticipated. The aircraft lost its speed and the pilot confirmed that his passenger could exit, reporting touch down to his fighter jet escorts. The fighter pilots returned to their stations as XCOM took the reins to safeguard their Commander. Henry only had his uniform, documents and whatever he had packed for the short trip in his small bag. As he came out, he waited next to the aircraft for a squad of soldiers donning familiar armour to take him into custody. They formed a circle around him and the squad leader guided his troops back to their destination. The plane took off behind them.
The team reached an inconspicuous cave entrance. They lowered their guard as the evening orange rays from the sun were shielded by the rock. A large door greeted the squad after venturing into the large cavern. A soldier tapped on his wrist and shook his head as if he was speaking. Of course, Henry could not hear a word due to the closed helmet. So that's what it looks like to onlookers, he realised. Not a second later, a loud metallic thud followed by the whining of machinery pulled the gates partially open. The squad walked in with their VIP. Another thud followed as the entrance closed its jaws.
The Commander's escorts removed their helmets.
"Welcome home, Commander!" a soldier said, followed by his squadmates.
Welcome home? He looked around. The usual hustle and bustle of the scientists and engineers were all that he could see. Forklifts ran amok. An angle grinder made its sharp cry as it tore through a sheet of alien metal. In the distance, he swore he had just heard Dr Shen. Yeah, this is home. Henry failed at containing his grin.
"It's good to be back," the Commander replied.
He did not waste another second to reach the diagonal elevator. As soon as it made its way down, the proper doors to XCOM HQ opened themselves.
The Commander did what he had to first; he booted his computer and went through the reports forwarded by his staff. Oddly enough, the need for XCOM to deploy its elite soldiers was not the reality of the day. There were a few alien incursions, but they were nothing that the local militaries could not handle. Was it the sign that the storm had stopped? Henry doubted it. Whenever the aliens did not attack, they were planning. If he could, he would run up to whatever alien strategist was out there and perform a summary execution with only a 10mm bullet. It was the real villain of this absurd story. That fantasy was for the day he would emerge victorious.
Henry had almost forgotten; the aliens were not the only ones he had to look out for. It was just that morning he had left the hell that was international politics. Solberg would notify him of whatever plans he had for Reclamation. All he knew was that it could still be used to monitor XCOM's recovery of its claimed artefacts. Exalt was also on his mind. How would the new policies affect them? Would the nations be more empowered to attack Exalt since it would possess their property? Would Exalt back down or be emboldened? Henry put his questions aside for now. He would deal with them when he had the luxury of having a clear mind. The issue of Exalt always put his mind into a twist.
He remembered that he should notify Bradford of his arrival. The Executive Officer probably knew, already, but he would continue filling in for him. Best to unload it from him. The Commander grabbed his coat off the hangar and swung it around his back to connect his arm to the appropriate sleeve. He could have used his device to call Bradford, but he preferred doing it in person. Doing so, he could have a rundown of the events too. Maybe, while he was at it, do his daily checkups around the base. Shen would still be in the storage bays above the base so he would have to go all the way up and back down to talk to the others.
"Welcome, Commander Henry Avant," the announcer heralded.
The staff gave their salutes and went back to their screens. Bradford split from the holographic display to meet the Commander.
"Welcome back, Commander."
"Thank you, Bradford. What did I miss?"
"Nothing much. We've had a few skirmishes here and there, but nothing involving XCOM forces. It's been a calm day — very rare!"
"Indeed."
Bradford scratched his head while in thought.
"Well, there is talk about a large asteroid coming very close into our solar system. I don't think it's much of a concern. At least, that's what the specialists say."
"If it's worth noting and if it's come to our ears, then there is clearly something off about it," Henry pointed out.
Bradford let out a mocking chuckle.
"Yeah well, everything these days could be a UFO. Even NASA doesn't know the difference anymore."
A beep interrupted their conversation. Bradford looked into the alert with the usual nonchalance. An alert in the Hologlobe was not as concerning as it once was. He found the source of the new alert but noticed that it was different — a pinned location of interest by the Council.
"Sir, we've got a transmission from the Council," an officer informed.
"Patch it through to the Situation Room," Bradford ordered. "Commander, shall we?"
Henry nodded. The two wasted no time to accept the call. They walked into the Situation Room and Bradford motioned to begin the meeting. A familiar shrouded silhouette appeared on the large screen.
"Hello, Commander. We have received a priority request from the Canadian ambassador. It is in Newfoundland. At a small fishing town near the coast of St. John's, local troops sent out a distress signal. The Army responded, but then, things went dark. The Canadian Army wants you to investigate the scene."
"Any details on the threat from the distress call or other reports?"
"No, Commander."
"Bradford, have any ships landed near the area?"
Bradford frowned, recalling the events of the day.
"None," he replied.
Assuming the Canadian Army treated the request for aid with the same standard as the others, they must have sent a large enough force to deal with whatever the aliens had. If such a force was completely taken out, the threat should have been serious. Although, the timing seemed off. The aliens were catching their breath after the attacks on the major cities. The most they could muster was a small expedition force. Granted, their simple expedition groups have been getting stronger. Perhaps, the aliens were remnants from the attacks? Either the aliens were ready for round two, or the situation in Newfoundland was an isolated case.
"Commander, your orders?" Bradford asked.
"Queue an interception team. Get me some reconnaissance on the site and I'll judge if we should send in some Auxiliaries."
"We can't do much Commander. A lifeform scan is out of the question. Satellite imagery won't be much either," Bradford informed.
Henry looked at a nearby two-dimensional display of the world map. The area of operation was in a dark shade of grey — heavy meteorological hindrance.
"Is it raining?"
"Rain clouds but no downpour," Bradford clarified.
"Bloody weather," Henry profaned. "Get me our new drones in the air and deploy a squad. Tell the pilot to drop away from the area so we can scout ahead to gauge the appropriate response."
"Yes, Commander. Alpha-2 is available. Shall we keep Bravo-2 as a reserve?"
"Have them on standby."
With his orders, Bradford went back to his station and relayed the orders. Henry waited in the Situation Room as he ascertained the situation.
A voice distracted him from his thoughts, "Commander, I would like to inform you of something ahead of time."
The Commander remembered the small tab in the corner of the display. He was still in a call with the Spokesman.
"We'd like for you to keep an eye on the smuggling operations," the mysterious man continued. "With the new laws in place, we might be able to truly figure out what Exalt is and wants. Councilman Solberg has some plans."
"My eyes will be peeled. Anything else?"
"No, Commander. I will leave you to your task."
The transmission was ended. Henry went to Mission Overview.
The Froststrike reported touchdown alongside its accompanying transport carrying the drone. The combat officer went to his station and secured a connection. After a few pushes of buttons, he grasped the remote cyclic stick and pressed the button to run the rotor of the modified Skeldar v-200.
"Commander, we have a connection to the drone. Displaying live feed to Mission Overview, sir," the combat officer informed.
The Commander walked up to the large screen in Mission Overview. He ordered to officers to focus on the live drone footage.
"Start with the night vision HD cameras. We'll go with IR later," Henry ordered. He looked to another officer in Mission Overview and asked, "Are our satellites still obstructed by the weather?"
"Clouds are thick today, sir. I doubt we'd get a large enough window for a small local scan," the officer answered.
The Commander looked back at the screen. After passing a few forested hills, the fishing community came into view. It did not look much in disarray, but whoever used to work or live there definitely pulled out hastily. If they were even able to pull out. Surely if someone did live to tell the tale, there would be word. The Spokesman said that no reports came out of the area. The only source of intel was the Canadian Army who, themselves, had nothing much either. All the Commander knew was that an alien threat was reported and two entire expedition forces were wiped out without a word — meaning that the threat was strong.
The houses had their doors open. A few personal belongings were laid out on the grass; they were pieces of clothing, bags and some remnants of food. Some tried escaping with their essential items. Not too far away was a car crash. Two cars coming from opposite directions had collided — clearly, in a hurry. All in all, the area was entirely abandoned. No corpses were present — not even in the car crash. There was blood but no body. Some houses still had a few lamps on. The infrared camera picked up a stove that was kept on. The officers continued surveilling the area after investigating any minor anomalies.
"Commander, I'm getting movement up ahead," the combat officer informed.
"Switch back to infrared."
The screen displayed the area in black, white and grey. The officers focused on identifying the contact. A silhouette could be spotted. It was in grey — barely distinguishable from the surrounding area at ambient temperature, displayed in graphite grey on the footage.
"Sir, the infrared has trouble distinguishing the body from the ambient temperature. Whatever it is, it's not as warm as a living being, but it still moves," an officer informed.
"That's not all, there are many of them!" another officer reported.
The drone pilot focused on stabilising the drone to get a better visual. Henry looked at the screen. The heat anomalies had the faint shape of a human, but they were much colder. In military infrared cameras, hostiles would be much easier to identify, being in bright silver on the screen. Whatever the humanoid heat silhouettes were, they were numerous. Suddenly the shades of white and grey adjusted, detecting a much brighter — hotter— signature.
"Hold up, we're also getting definitive heat signatures. There are multiple beings picked up by the infrared," the officers pointed out.
Henry looked at the focused image of the newly identified heat signatures. Their silhouette had become all too familiar.
"Chryssalids," he mumbled.
"They match their physique, sir!"
"If there are Chyssalids, there are zombies. That's what the lesser heat anomalies were!"
Of course, infrared would barely pick up the zombies since their body temperature would be low — them being dead. What shocked the Commander, even more, was the sheer number of hostiles. As the drone delved deeper into the fishing town, the number of entities increased until the crowds of zombies and Chryssalids became dense.
If there was one thing the Commander had learned from Vahlen, it was that the Chryssalids would never stop multiplying. He needed to take care of the Chryssalid colony before it expanded more than it had. Imposing a quarantine of the area would prevent further souls from feeding the hive, but it did not stop it from growing. He had to eliminate every alien to permanently counter the threat.
"Okay, I want an officer to contact me the Canadian government," the Commander ordered. "Tell them that we have identified the threat at the requested area to be a Chryssalid colony. I want them to quarantine the area. More importantly, I want their permission for us to raze the area. If they give us permission, I want them to spare us some flamethrowers."
"Flamethrowers, Commander?" an officer confirmed.
"Yes, I want as many of them as they can spare!" Henry reaffirmed.
"Understood, sir!"
"Queue me two of our MEC troopers too, and I want them to equip their flamethrowers."
Alpha-2 stayed put as they were ordered to. The drone overhead kept its vigilance over the area. Only the moonlight and a few operational lamp posts allowed them to gauge their enemy in the distance. They could see faint silhouettes moving; they were numerous. They tallied their ammunition and prepared for the fight as the Commander gave them a headstart.
"Heads up, Alpha-2, we've got a sizable force of zombies and Chryssalids. Your enemy may fight in melee, but they are agile. Keep your guard up. If you want to take down the Chryssalids for good, shoot all zombies in the head. Those things breed like rabbits."
"Everyone got that?" Colonel Archer asked.
"Yes, sir!" the squad replied.
"All corpses are presumed hostile until taken care of!" the Commander continued. "You'll be deployed alongside a few MECs equipped with flamethrowers. Canada has given us a platoon equipped with flamethrowers too."
Alpha-2 gave a confused frown under their helmets.
"Your objective is to eliminate all hostiles in the area; that means you'll have to kill every alien and burn every corpse that is not alien! A Chrysslaid larva could be housing inside any body of flesh. Your mission will not be over until you've burnt down every vessel for a Chryssalid larva. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir!" the squad confirmed.
"Good. Archer, if things turn sour, we've got Bravo-2 on standby."
"Copy that, Commander. Will request reinforcements if needed."
"All right. Our friends should be arriving anytime."
The squad heard a vehicle buzzing in the background. A military truck came to a halt near Alpha-2's position. A team of Canadian soldiers hopped out of their transport. Some were equipped with standard-issue rifles whilst the others carried flamethrowers and pistols.
An aircraft roared overhead. It used its wing thrusters to hover over an empty patch of land. It slowly made its descent as it opened a hatch from its belly. In it were two bulky suits of armour. As the aircraft hovered only a few meters above the ground, the two suits animated themselves and dropped onto the ground. The transport closed its downwards hatch and flew off.
"Looks like the cavalry has arrived," Skorsi commented.
Archer took off his helmet to courtly greet the leader of the platoon and XCOM reinforcements. The Canadian task force approached their XCOM counterparts, staring at the MEC troopers walking around in their hulking suits.
"Hello, XCOM. Lieutenant Cartwright, at your service!" the platoon leader greeted.
"Colonel Fergus Archer. We appreciate your help," Archer replied. "All right, here's the deal. The threat we're dealing with is a large Chryssalid colony. Our job is to exterminate every last one of them. That means that we'll also have to burn every corpse that the Chrysslaids could nest in. We'll be the spearhead while the flamethrowers are in the back."
The platoon looked at each other and split up. The flamethrowers were guarded by their comrades with rifles as instructed. They would gun down every foe whilst the flamethrowers burn whatever could be used as Chryssalid chow. XCOM's allies then geared up for combat, but a question still lingered on their mind. The lieutenant was brave enough to ask.
"What exactly is the deal with them, XCOM Colonel?" Lieutenant Cartwright asked, pointing at the MEC troopers.
The heavily armoured soldiers were a half-meter higher due to their suits. They could get taller if their leg hydraulics permitted. Although, Shen did not recommend it as the weight distribution of the suit would be disrupted. In the eyes of their comrades, the MECs looked to be fully autonomous. That was, of course, because the pilot was safely encased in the suit. The portable, heavy calibre machine gun only contributed to the intimidation factor.
"They're specialised units," Archer explained. "Sergeant Nixon and Specialist Sobel will provide some heavy ordinance and have flamethrowers equipped. Their armour is tough so the Chrysslaids shouldn't do much damage."
"I see," the lieutenant replied with some dissatisfaction.
"We've had countless wounded from those things. Never underestimate them. Our MECS can take some hits, but we absolutely can't. The chitin can puncture our armour effortlessly."
"Got it."
"How many men do you have, Lieutenant Cartwright?" Archer asked.
"50. Twelve of us have flamethrowers," the Canadian replied.
"All right, I'll contact my superiors. Then, we'll be heading in."
The lieutenant nodded as Archer put his helmet back on. He turned around and tapped on the smart fabric on his wrist.
"Commander, this is FO-1. We're preparing for the operation. How should we proceed?"
"Copy that, FO-1. I'll be sending a map of the area made by the officers."
A tab opened up in Archer's interface. He selected to enlarge it.
"Listen up, Alpha-2 and the MECs. The area of operation consists of a residential area and a large fishing dock. The houses aren't populated much by hostiles, but you'll still have to clear and burn down every source of food you see. The fishing dock is where things get tough. The concentration of zombies and Chryssalids is much higher. More importantly, we've got a large damaged fishing vessel. We couldn't get a closer look, but the Chryssalid colony seems very fond of it. You'll have to clear that boat too. Proceed with extreme caution. I'll be watching over you."
Archer turned to face his soldiers.
"You heard him, squad. Take positions."
He switched his helmet to Speaker mode to talk to his allies.
"All right, Lieutenant, we're moving out. I'll take two of your flamethrowers. We'll split up to clear every house. Regroup before entering the market and docks."
"Copy that, XCOM Colonel. We got your back." The lieutenant faced his men and yelled, "Right, let's move out!"
The platoon, split into teams, would clear the residential area faster. The houses were not as numerous as they would be in a rural town, but there was still a decent amount. Not to mention, every house could contain a threat. The soldiers busted down every door, pointed their guns at every corner then proceeded to every room. They checked every nook and cranny for neonate Chryssalids. They had heard rumours about the nasty wounds a solid jab could cause. The soldiers opened the fridge and torched everything inside. They opened cupboards and pantry cabinets. A solid squeeze to the flamethrowers' triggers and the soldiers walked away, guns pointing at any creature that would run out.
Some saw it to be extreme paranoia, but a screech from behind as they walked away grabbed their attention. A small white creature trickled out of the piles of raw food and the soldiers gunned it down with way too many bullets. After the barrage, they looked at the threat. Neonate Chrysslaid. A wince of disgust. XCOM was right; they could be and were everywhere.
Alpha-2 walked down the streets. Zombies stumbled their way closer to the soldiers; clever Chryssalid larvae were on the hunt. They showed no hostile intentions until they got close enough to strike. But by that time, a bullet to the head made them drop dead. A mixture of olive green and red blood poured out. Something not so human was there. The soldiers signalled the flamethrowers and they stepped up to light the body on fire. The rest of the horde was alerted.
"Squad, the zombies are attacking in a horde. It seems we got their attention!" Colonel Archer alerted. "Take up defensive positions. Watch our flanks and rear for Chryssalids." He switched his helmet to Speaker mode. "Hey, flame guys! You guys spearhead our formation and torch those things," he ordered to his Canadian allies.
The two soldiers accompanying Alpha-1 complied and ran out in the open. A Chryssalid emerged from a house, but the MEC troopers gunned it down.
"No worries. We got you covered," Nixon said through the Cataphract suit's speakers.
The two soldiers nodded and aimed their incendiary weapons at the horde of zombies approaching. Once they got close enough, they unleashed the flames onto them, but the foe did not stop. The soldiers took a few steps back but were reminded that their allies were there to cover them. The Skeldar v-200 use its small machine gun to unleash a barrage onto the zombie horde. A few of the shots hit the heads of the zombies and they dropped. The others were eliminated by the Alpha-2 on high alert.
The Canadians did not back down and kept spewing flames as soon as fresh corpses crawled and stumbled towards them. The zombies still wore the casual outfits of fellow countrymen enjoying a warm spring day. The large tears and bloodstains reminded them that the people in front of them were dead and only reanimated. The worst was that a lot of the zombies wore bullet-resistant gear and Canadian uniforms. The platoon found the answer to what had happened to their brothers-in-arms. A small burst of flames allowed them to restore the dignity of those who had fought for the same cause as them. Former citizens fell to the ground; the remnants of their bodies were cremated, and the parasite inside was shot and cooked. Slowly, XCOM gained ground as the zombies dropped and burned.
"Hold up, Alpha-2. You're heading straight into the colony," Henry informed, watching the fight from the drone. "Wait for Cartwright's men to catch up."
"Copy that, Commander. Everyone, hold the fort!"
He switched his helmet to Speaker to talk to the flamethrowers.
"Pull back, you two! Pull back!" he ordered.
The two soldiers stopped spewing flames and ran back to the newly fortified position. The MECs stomped up to their comrades and guarded their retreat against a few opportunistic Chrysslalids. One of them was lucky enough to land a blow on the Spc Sobel's leg, but the alloy held strong. A cry of pain came from the Chryssalid and Sobel, now alerted to the threat, removed his right hand from his machine gun. He cocked his arm back and launched it forward, the spiked metal fist hitting the Chryssalid with full force. He followed up with a blast of the flamethrower to burn up a few recently inanimate corpses.
"How many of these damn zombies are there?!" Skorsi commented.
He heard a screech from his side and pointed his shotgun at the source. He was quick enough to intercept a Chryssalid in full sprint.
"Eyes peeled, Skorsette! Your life depends on it," Archer reminded.
A thwack came from behind. Skorsi looked back and spotted Sam, injured by a Chryssalid thrust to the chest. She rose her pistol up to shoot point-blank at her foe.
"Ibarra, Sam's hit!" he alerted
"It's fine! It's fine! Focus on shooting!" Sam replied as she groaned.
Specialist Ibarra shifted with another member of her squad as she dashed towards Spc Dodd. She examined the wound to make sure it was as insignificant as her squadmates had said. She followed the trail of scratched armour to a patch of red fabric.
"Someone, cover me and Sam. She's injured and bleeding!"
Sergeant Nixon rushed to their aid and maintained his vigilance as he kept the two soldiers behind his bulky suit. Fatima rose her medical spray to the wound whilst Sam enlargened the hole in the fabric of her suit. A sting came from her torso as Ibarra sprayed the disinfectant on the wound. She switched to the stem cell spray and created a small coating of artificial flesh.
"How do you feel?" she asked.
"It burns. My torso feels sore," she said as her voice lost its perk.
"Hold on, Sam. I can do something about it."
A crackle from a machine gun caused her to lift her head up. The MEC troopers covering her made short work of whatever the threat was. She injected a stimulant to numb the pain. Sam rose her machine gun to keep firing.
"Woah, Sam! Be careful not to injure yourself more," Ibarra protested.
The cries of Chryssalids in the background distracted her as she rose her own rifle to fight back. Sam used the opportunity to get herself back into the action. The medic was too preoccupied to watch over her injured squadmate.
The Chryssalids backed down. There were still many left, judging by the drone overhead. They made a temporary retreat to the marketplace. The zombies crept behind the enemy as they retreated. They made easy pickings to the squad who carefully aimed for the headshot.
The Canadian platoon regrouped and joined XCOM for their push into the market. They would have to split up again to clear buildings, but one large team had to spearhead the assault and draw out the enemy.
"Commander, what's the situation with the aliens?" Archer asked through the comms.
"Alpha-2, we've got a lot more Chrysslaids than you can imagine. The zombies are mostly dealt with. Count your bullets for this one, folks."
"Copy that, Commander! Squad, how are you fellas doing on ammo?" Archer asked.
"Breaches are almost empty, sir!" Arjun replied.
"I'm running out of shells quickly, Colonel!" Skorsi informed.
The rest of the squad replied with similar answers. The MECs had exhausted a lot of their ammunition too. They would have to restock on fuel for their flamethrowers. XCOM could not sustain the engagement. Their allies could keep on fighting as they had more ammo, but fighting a Chryssalid colony alone was not ideal. Considering that two similar task forces were taken down in the same fashion, the probability of annihilation was too high. His troops needed to resupply at the Froststrike and get some rest.
Archer switched his helmet to Speaker mode.
"Canadians, we're falling back to our transports! Everyone keep your guns pointed a the foe and retreat," he ordered.
The Canadian servicemen were shaken by the order, wanting to take down the foe that had killed their brothers and sisters. They complied as XCOM began their extraction. They walked backwards as they shot any Chryssalid that entered into their view. The rest of the aliens went into hiding as their comrades dropped dead. They were smart enough to understand that the fight was over. Instead of a full assault, they pulled back to lick their wounds. As the enemies did not give chase, Col Archer gave the order to run back to the transports. The cries of their enemies echoed in the background. It was a cry of victory.
The soldiers set camp far from the view of the Chryssalids. The lookouts watched the enemy in the distance. The settlement burnt down in the background. The fires had spread and had broken all hope to resettle the area. Although, everyone doubted that the inhabitants would come back. The occupants were either consumed by the hive or were burnt down along with the parasite in their heads and houses.
"At least the fire will kill some of those fuckers," a soldier cried.
The platoon replied with an uneasy laugh. The arson of the residential area was unintended, but the superiors realised that it could help flush out the Chryssalids. It created a "zone of control". At least, those in command doubted the Chryssalids would resettle razed land. Although, the alien did seem to thrive in chaotic environments, judging from their performance during the attacks on the cities. However, the current situation seemed different to XCOM.
Soon, the idea came to the task force that they should eat something if the fight was looking to be tough. Fighting on an empty stomach was not ideal for any combatant. The commanders allowed it.
XCOM's squad took off their helmet to take a break with their comrades, exchanging a few words with fellow soldiers. The MEC troopers could not do much. They simply opened the hatch in their armour that allowed them to be lifted out of their suits. The Canadians were stunned by the sight. Some decided to get closer and investigate the famed concoctions of the combat unit. They were even curious about the augmented reality helmets that the simple XCOM foot soldier wore. It contrasted heavily with the bullet-resistant helmets that were standard-issue; they were just helmets made to protect.
Observing his troops, the lieutenant took one last bite of his food before opening his mouth to address the Colonel resting beside him.
"Colonel Archer, what's the plan? Call for backup?" he asked.
"Lieutenant Cartwright, it seems your country has its hands tied. We won't be receiving many reinforcements, but we have an extra platoon with an armoured vehicle. From our side, we've got Bravo-2 — an extra squad. Not to mention, the weather is predicted to clear up."
"You XCOM soldiers are tough, I'll give you that! Having a second squad of you guys will help."
"And having some extra guns and flamethrowers from your country is as important," Archer added. "If the weather clears, though, that will be the most valuable thing."
"Why?"
"We can perform a lifeform scan."
"A lifeform scan? Like in the movies?"
Archer chuckled.
"Not quite, but I will admit it seems sci-fi."
"Hell, this entire bullshit of a year seems sci-fi," the lieutenant reacted. "I wish I had waited a couple of years to have kids."
"You got children?" Archer asked.
"Yeah. They're young too. I wanted to watch them grow, but here I am. My wife's got help from my parents so I'm not too worried about her making it with those little devils. But fuck, I feel like I shouldn't be here."
Archer stared at his newly made friend. He looked around the watch the soldiers as they talked and rested for what was to come.
"We all fight to protect those we love, no? All of us risk dying the moment a Chryssalid comes near us, but we do it for a reason. Not to mention, we'd be fighting for every man and woman."
Lieutenant Cartwright slouched down on the tree he rested on.
"Yes, but I'd rather be alive than a hero. I want to protect my family more than anything, but how can I do that if I'm just another zombie? I'm no soldier, Colonel. I'm a father."
"We'll come out alive. I know it," Archer replied.
"Can you promise me that?" the lieutenant retorted. "Sorry. I didn't mean to speak up."
Archer brought his hand up to pat his comrade's shoulder. He brought it back down and cleared his throat.
"Listen up, everyone! We've got ten minutes left to rest then we go back into the town. Wrap things up! Haul as much ammo as you can because you'll need every last round!" He turned to his companion and said, "Lieutenant Cartwright, as long as you have something to go back to, you will come out of it. My men have fought many battles and suffered many wounds. We all dream to go back to where we belong."
"Where do you belong, Colonel Archer?"
The colonel stood up and looked at the cloudy sky with a somewhat pained expression. He looked down at his helmet between his hands and back up. The sky was grey — just like during those countless winter nights.
"In a quaint restaurant in Caernarfon. I miss her warm cawls."
He looked down at his friend. A warm gust of wind brushed their cheeks.
"They warm you up after a long wintry day's of work," he added with a wistful smile.
Lieutenant Cartwright stared at his friend. Archer only gave a nod and left his companion to examine his troops. He put his helmet on as he walked away. He stepped around the legs of his brothers-in-arms as they packed away all the junk produced by their hasty meal. Some of the troops finished loading their magazines. They brought their clips containing an array of bullets onto the arced container. With the push of their thumbs, the bullets dropped in. He reached his own squad resting nearby.
"Alpha-2," he called out, "Bravo-2 and the Canadians will be arriving shortly. Count your rounds; we'll need every last one."
"Do we have a plan?" Corporal Riggs asked.
"Not anything new. The Canadians will be clearing any remaining buildings while skirmishing with the Chryssalids. We will spearhead the assault and take on the full brunt of the horde. We'll slowly push into the marketplace and the docks. Burn every corpse that is not Chryssalid; those, our scientists would want. Hopefully, a lifeform scan will be possible soon. The sky seems to be clearing up."
Alpha-2 put their helmets back on and prepared for the fight. The MEC troopers followed by closing the hatches of their suit and reestablishing the sensory connection with their artificial limbs.
As the men and women gathered for the fight, reinforcements had arrived. The Skyranger flew in and dropped Bravo-2 onto the field. The Canadians got out of their transports escorted by a LAV Ⅲ armed with a chain gun. Lieutenant Cartwright brought his comrades forth to Colonel Archer. The XCOM soldier investigated his reinforcements. The IFV was more than welcomed. He explained the plan to his subordinates in the reinforcing platoon.
"My forces and Lieutenant Cartwright's will cover you as you clear the rest of the buildings that are left," Archer continued. "Once you do, notify us and start breaching buildings in the marketplace. There you'll meet some actual resistance. Your LAV will be behind us, shooting down the horde. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!" the leaders of the Canadian forces replied.
"Good. We move out, now."
The task force came out of hiding and followed the concrete road to the town. Not a single came near the wall of burnt down houses. The Chryssalids had not resettled the scorched area. They probably disliked the smell of charcoal as much as the Canadians did. XCOM's forces smelled it too, but their respirators made it more bearable. They kept their guards up in case of an ambush. They walked through familiar streets they had previously fought in. The burnt corpses still remained — charcoal black. The trail of arson came to an end when untouched buildings started appearing.
"All right, split up!" Archer ordered.
The Canadian forces broke up into breaching squads. Those under Lieutenant Cartwright's command stuck with XCOM whilst the others went through paved roads surrounded by burnt buildings to reach the untouched ones. Archer signalled his force to take positions for the fight. The armoured vehicle rolled up, guarded by the MEC troopers. The footmen went from wall to wall, keeping their weapons ready to fire for when they would eventually encounter a Chryssalid. A shriek in the distance rushed them to switch the safety of their weapons off.
"Colonel, I see them," Specialist Elisa Irving said, looking through the scope of her designated marksman rifle.
"Team, hold your fire," Archer instructed. "Visor Command, Zoom!"
Archer's helmet zoomed on the centre of his vision. He could see the aliens. Their purple silhouettes dashed around the marketplace. Some of them gathered in the street a few scores of meters ahead of XCOM's position and observed. They were watching their human foe; it was a staredown. The aliens did not move. Only their hands fiddled around as they rotated their heads for whatever reason. XCOM and its allies held their position. More Chryssalids entered the road, stared at their foe, and dashed off. Another batch of Chryssalids was drawn to the commotion. They looked at XCOM in the distance and dashed off.
Lieutenant Cartwright tapped on Archer's shoulder. The Colonel looked away from the Chryssalid mob and to his comrade.
"What's happening?" the Canadian soldier asked.
"The Chryssalids, they're on high alert. They see us, but won't attack."
"Shouldn't we strike? If we wait, we'll allow them to muster their forces."
"If we wait, we'll muster our forces," Archer corrected. "The Chryssalids don't want to fight — only hunt. They fight if we threaten their survival. Right now, they're wary of us. As dumb as we think them to be, they're smart when it comes to doing what they do best. If we'll take them on, we should do it at full strength."
"So, we wait for the others to rejoin us?" Lieutenant Cartwright asked.
"Yeah. For now, tell your men to keep their eyes peeled and report any movement."
The staredown continued. The Chryssalids stopped to watch the humans and left to do whatever. Henry stared at the events — or lack of — unfolding on the screen. He took a sip of his coffee to keep him awake for the rest of the night until the mission in Newfoundland would be over. For once, the Chryssalids showed no hostility.
They were the alien's hounds — used to cause havoc by unleashing their primal instincts. Now, Henry questioned just how primal the Chryssalids were. He would have asked Vahlen to give him her thoughts, but she was probably sound asleep after the day's work. He took another sip of his coffee. The drone hovered above the area as the Chryssalids shifted around.
"They're really not attacking?" Henry thought out loud.
The officers around him gave a glance. He hummed in thought.
"Officers, make sure to extract all footage from the second assault. Start from when Archer reentered the town."
"Yes, sir," the officer taking on the task replied.
Henry needed to forward the events to Vahlen. The Chryssalids were more than she had made them out to be. Mindless, they were not. He could tell that there was some form of thought behind their actions. They were like a hivemind. Maybe, they are? Perhaps, Vahlen was accidentally accurate; the Chryssalids' only goal was survival. They were not attacking Alpha-2 to survive. After all, if there was no fighting, there was no death. The Chryssalids probably had enough food; they managed to attain a large colony somehow.
The Commander was simply astonished. It was as if he was fighting a completely different enemy. The Chryssalids were much easier to comprehend than the rest of the alien body. Their objectives seemed a lot nobler too — survival. After all, humanity fought for the same reason. Henry fought for the same reason. Although, the Chryssalids seemed to be better at it. They were not plagued by greed. They seemed a lot more unified than humanity was.
Humans could learn from the Chryssalids. Henry laughed internally at such an absurd thought. More importantly, the human-sized bugs' strategy differed completely from that of the other aliens.
The aliens kept throwing soldiers, expecting them to die off but accomplish their mission. The average alien soldier was expendable — Sectoids, Thin Men and Floaters. The Chryssalids were too. They just retained their sense of self-preservation and did not suicidally rush into combat. Henry could imagine it had something to do with the chips Vahlen had to research. Perhaps, if the colony had chips in them, they would be suicidally charging at every enemy.
It gave him hope — not more than an ounce. What happens if the other alien species sever from the one at the top? What happens once a chip is removed? More importantly, just what more is that chip capable of doing?
If the aliens did break free, humanity could negotiate. After all, the only reason why the aliens were fighting was because of the one at the top of the hierarchy. In a way, the aliens were no different from humans. People die because of decisions made by the rich and powerful. Although, for the aliens, it seemed less like a plutocracy.
Henry brought himself back to his task. His mind could not focus on the battle due to the caffeine — it attempting to drown out his drowsiness from the melatonin in his body. A quick glance at his device confirmed that it was almost midnight. Since he had no plans for tomorrow, Henry could allow himself to disobey his sleep schedule. He had to see this mission through. He was still intent on examining the Chryssalids.
The other half of the Canadian forces reported the completion of their task to Lieutenant Cartwright. He passed it up to Colonel Archer.
"All right, tell them to begin moving into the marketplace. Prepare your men for the assault."
"Copy that," Lieutenant Cartwright replied.
As soon as the Lieutenant gave the signal, Archer directed the column to move towards the docks, infantry guarding the MECs and the LAV. The Chryssalids roared and screeched to alert the rest of the hive. They all went into hiding, allowing the human task force to penetrate into their territory.
The column halted as the Canadians cleared buildings and burnt down any source of food the Chryssalids could use. The trail of fire was a sign of how much progress they had made in clearing the area. As the Canadians came out, Archer signalled to move up. The Chryssalids were still nowhere to be seen.
"Commander, where are the Chrysslaids?" Archer asked.
"It's hard to tell through the smoke," the Commander replied from his station, "but the Chrysslalids seemed to have gone into buildings surrounding the marketplace or are on the streets."
"I don't see any Chryssalids ahead? I've got a clear view of the marketplace," Archer responded.
"They seem to be . . . hiding from your field of view?" Henry informed, analysing the aliens' unorthodox tactics.
The column slowly approached the marketplace. It was an open area with countless small businesses previously operated by local inhabitants. The Chryssalids had evacuated the entire area while their human counterparts went deeper into their territory. The Canadians cleared the next rows of buildings leading to the marketplace. They could hear the Chryssalids hiding nearby, but they did not show themselves.
The armoured vehicle went past the line of houses and into the vacated commercial area. It was as if the alien bugs gave up on their land and ran away. Though, Colonel Archer and the Commander doubted it was that simple. The Canadians kept clearing buildings as they gained ground but never came across any Chryssalid hiding spots.
Slowly, the column made its way into the centre of all the local businesses. It was a large stone-paved area with a few stands and whatever they required to operate. Crates of goods to be sold littered around. It was where the aliens were just minutes ago. It was, truly, as if they were gone.
The combat officer scanned with the infrared cameras again. The drone stopped flying around the marketplace since it was empty. Now, the combat officer was tasked with finding the enemy. The docks were stilled guarded, though. The officers just had to figure out where those in the marketplace went to.
"It's quiet. Too quiet," Lieutenant Cartwright remarked. "Wasn't it a half-hour ago they were staring down at us as we slowly encroached on their colony?"
"You're right. This is suspicious," Archer replied. "The drone above us can't find the Chryssalids due to the smoke. The buildings are densely packed too."
A series of shrieks and roars interrupted the small conversation. They came from all around the task force's position. Tapping could be heard in the background. The Chryssalids were on the move. Archer soon understood what was happening.
The Chryssalids appeared from the shadows. They emerged out of the burning residential areas and dashed towards XCOM's position. They came from all around them.
"We're surrounded!" Archer yelled in Speaker mode.
The soldiers fired at the wave of Chrysslaids reappearing from the shadows. The LAV turned its turrets to unleash a barrage at the area with the most aliens. The swarm proved to be more than what a single chain gun could handle on its own. The crackle of small arms fire interrupted as men started yelling to alert their comrades.
"Officer, what's happening?!" Henry yelled to the combat officer.
"Sir, the Chryssalids came out of the burning buildings! We couldn't detect them! The infrared did not pick them up through the fires," the officer defended.
It's an ambush, Henry realised. The Chryssalids used the burning buildings and surrounding smog to hide their encirclement manoeuver. They were actively luring XCOM into the marketplace.
Henry could feel his teeth grinding on each other. His body was tense. He had never had intense outbursts before, but for once in his life, he wanted to punch something. Somehow, he was outsmarted by a bunch of bugs.
He had his soldiers set fire to the area to remove any source of food the Chryssalids could use to reproduce. His troops set the buildings ablaze to flush out the enemies spread around the area. The aliens had used it to their advantage, turning it into a double-edged sword. Hiding in the smoke, nobody could see them. The sizzling muted their movement. Not only that, but the fires made it harder for the infrared camera of the Skeldar drone to detect them. The fires were the hottest signatures detected. The ambient air was also warmer. All those factors combined made detecting heat signatures from the Chryssalids much harder.
"Commander, permission to fire?" the combat officer asked.
"Open fire!" Henry replied.
He watched as the drone fired its machine gun at enemies below.
Archer was surrounded. His men were in a tough spot. The large open area of the marketplace allowed his troops to see the enemy better. There was no need for cover since his enemies were all melee-oriented. Theoretically, guns should overcome any foe charging at you in the open, but the Chryssalids were nimble and they were everywhere. Being entirely surrounded by a swarm of large deadly, nimble bugs, was not an ideal situation.
The heavy ordnance fired overhead of the soldiers. The footmen were organised and spread out enough that the likelihood of friendly fire was low. Every man relied on his comrades. Only a well-oiled machine could keep the doomed men and women alive.
A few cries erupted between the gunfire as a few Chryssalids got close. A slash to the arms or legs was lucky. The head and torso almost meant death if the armour had not absorbed most of the hit. A few were unfortunate and were jabbed in the chest. Their surrounding comrades panicked and shot at the nearby alien — its fanged leg still lodged in their comrade's body. Rapid blood loss followed. Every quarter-litre of blood was like sand in an hourglass.
"Shoot, you idiots! Shoot!" Riggs yelled at his Canadian allies as more Chryssalids rushed in.
The Chryssalids kept charging in waves. They dodged as much gunfire as they could before they perished. The MECs used their flamethrowers, but the Chryssalids seemed to be able to endure the pain. It only caused more harm to his allies than his enemies. The canopy of roasting Chryssalids and the occasional cremated fallen soldier was not pleasant. The inflamed wall of corpses and debris did, however, slow down the charging enemies.
As more enemies died, more corpses separated the foe from its prey. The Chryssalids had a fragile sense of balance. They stumbled as they walked over the corpses of their own species, giving more time for the soldiers to shoot.
"Keep firing! Keep firing!" Lieutenant Cartwright yelled.
A purple alien came close to him and went for a slash. His bullet-resistant vest was torn. Archer came in with his rifle and shot the alien. He took down a few more charging at him before reloading.
"You all right, Cartwright?" he asked. "We're getting out of this together! Just keep yourself and your men shooting!"
Archer's heavy breathing could be heard since he had kept his helmet on Speaker because he did not have the time to switch it off. Vocal commands were not something his mind could do whilst countless enemies assailed him and his men. He swung his rifle left to right without catching a single breath. Only when his gun ran dry, he breathed.
The LAV stopped shooting. The MECs stopped shooting. The soldiers, one by one, fired their last shots. They kept their guns pointed towards the thick ash-ridden air. After a few seconds, their ears had adjusted to normal volume. The thundering of guns was over. Now, their hearings focused on the heavy breathing all around them.
In and out. A gasp then a wheeze.
"Is it over?" someone asked.
Archer unloaded his gun and checked how many bullets were in his magazine. He looked down at his waist to count how much ammo he had left.
"Everyone, count your ammunition! The fight isn't over yet. Reform the column and we assault the docks!"
The armoured vehicle and the MECs faced the port to begin the assault. The infantry formed around them as they loaded in fresh new magazines, desperately catching their breath from the ambush.
"If you've got grenades use them! At this point, It doesn't matter just how much damage we cause," Archer ordered.
Lieutenant Cartwright approached his comrade.
"What should we do with our fallen? We've lost like 20 guys or so."
"Burn em!" Archer ordered.
"Shouldn't we recover their bodies, at least, for their families?" the lieutenant protested.
"Better cremated than a zombie, Cartwright. We don't have the luxury of collecting the bodies of the dead. The aliens don't obey Rule 114! Do they, Cartwright?"
"No, Colonel."
"They turn them into chowder or weaponise them. You will burn them, Lieutenant!"
Lieutenant Cartwright let out a soft whimper out of frustration. He signalled his flamethrowers to come to him and relayed his orders. His comrades were not pleased, but they did what had to be done. They ensured that their fallen would not be disrespected by being turned into food for the aliens.
Wasting no more time, the column reformed and marched deeper into the marketplace and to the docks. Fireteams busted into warehouses. Pounds of fish laid in open crates. A few of them sloshed around. Fully matured Chryssalid emerged and a few victims were created, but their wounds were not as severe. Their enemies got gunned down soon after. Medics rushed to aid the wounded. XCOM shared its advanced medical devices. The flamethrowers rushed in and torched what could have been thousands worth of seafood. The soldiers exited the buildings and proceeded to the next. AT this point, the clearing of buildings had become mechanical and a repeat of the last. Brust in, shoot, and torch everything.
The remaining Chryssalids came out to protect their food. The LAV unleashed its machine gun, covered by small arms fire from infantry. They threw grenades at large clusters of aliens. The shrapnel shredded their chitin exoskeletons. A few bullets sealed their fates. The troops proceeded with the plan after the minor interruptions. As the hive was pushed back, the troops marched towards the docks. They soon reach a bunch of concrete stairs that led to a lower group of wooden piers. The docks were their next target. A few Chryssalids rushed out to meet the foe, but the Canadians were quick enough to spot them as soon as they did.
"Troops, split up and clear the boats!" Archer ordered.
Soldiers stayed behind to cover the rear in case of another ambush — a good call, considering the howls in the distance. Their comrades hopped onto the boats tied to the walkways and checked the crates of fish. The flamethrowers came up and burnt them. They waited for a Chryssalid to pop up. They kept their guns pointing at the food until a purple being clawed its way out the pile of fish. The gunfire and fuel from the flamethrower silenced them.
"Boat clear!" the soldiers reported as they hopped back onto the pier.
Alpha-2 picked a boat to search. It had a couple of crates that the MEC burnt down, but they were caught by surprise by a large shark. At first, they were astonished by such a catch, but the large fish started moving. Its body wiggled around as if something was borrowing inside of it. Skorsi was quick to react and fired multiple shotgun shells into the carcass. The movement stopped. He signalled for the Canadians to torch the entire boat.
"Sharks don't wiggle like that when they're dead," Skorsi reacted.
"Good call, Skorsette. Proceed to the next boat," Archer ordered.
A shriek erupted from a building. A Chryssalid came running at the Colonel, but his squad gunned it down before it got close enough. More aliens followed, but Archer had his gun ready. A few bullets missed due to the alien attempting to dodge the gunfire. They soon perished from the combined fire of Bravo-2 passing by to clear the next boat.
Lieutenant Cartwright came to report to his XCOM commander.
"Colonel, my troops have cleared the warehouses. We've spotted a large shipwrecked fishing boat. It crashed into the docks. The Chrysslaids are defending it fiercely."
"It must be the source of the infestation," Archer remarked. "All right, Alpha-2, we move on that ship!"
The XCOM squads joined their Canadian allies who kept their rifles aiming at a large ship. It was long; it would not have fit into the docks if it had tried. The piers were not simply long enough to accommodate such a large vessel. It was taller than a two-story building and had many metallic towers donned with cables and hooks.
"That's a large boat for such a small port," Specialist Ibarra reacted.
"It probably doesn't belong here," Specialist Dodd replied. "I mean it crashed into the docks. Also, there is a large hole on the side."
Colonel Archer asked his allies to watch the boat in case any aliens appeared. He gathered Alpha-2 and Bravo-2 to clear it. The easiest way to get in was through the large damaged section of the hull. The damaged wooden piers were enough for his squad to hop into the ship.
"Here's the deal, everyone. We'll enter through that large hole on the side of that ship," Archer informed. "Once we're inside, be on high alert. We'll be in close-quarters combat."
The squads followed the wooden platforms until they reached the more unstable parts from the crash. They grabbed a few barrels and crates to form a ramp towards the large opening in the hull. A few bullets whizzed overhead as a Chryssalid peaked out from the top. The squads looked around for any more threats and went back to planning their entry. After making sure the makeshift ramp was stable, the shieldbearers and shotguns went in.
"All clear!" they reported.
The rest of the squad followed, accompanied by a few Canadian flamethrowers. The hallways were messy. Chryssalid claw marks had scratched the floors and metallic walls. Half-dried blood and goop formed an almost sticky layer of muck. Whoever crewed the ship were killed. The XCOM assault team ignored the mayhem around them and went back to clearing the many compartments. They passed countless half-full crates of fresh fish; they would burn them on their way out. After a few metallic doors and bloodied crew cabins, they reached the large storage section of the vessel. The troops rushed in and scanned the area with the ends of their barrels and helmet-mounted flashlights. An odd object was in front of them.
"What the hell," Archer exclaimed.
The large compartment was untidy, but that was to be expected. A pungent smell reigned since it was probably where all the produce was stored on the way to land. The troops were caught off-guard by the large beast whose products would probably sell for hundreds.
"Is that a whale?" Skorsi asked.
A large whale carcass was held on the ship via a series of ropes. The carcass had been defiled; it was missing large chunks of its body. Inside of it were countless orange pustules.
"I'm no fisherman or marine biologist or whatever, but that is not normal," Corporal Riggs reacted.
"This must be a whaler ship," Specialist Takeshi commented.
"No time to waste, lads and lassies. Move back and burn the thing," Archer ordered.
The flamethrowers moved up and set the large whale carcass ablaze. A series of muffled shrieks erupted as few aliens sensed a rise in ambient temperature. They emerged out of the whale and crates of fish. The teams rose their rifles and the aliens were quickly gunned down. As the flame grew bigger and the air thinner, the squads excited the storage compartment while their companions burnt every source of food in the area. The rest of the cabins were torched on the way out.
The upper deck of the ship had countless containers. The Chrysslaids emerged to defend their food, but the Canadians overlooking the ship shot them dead. The entire deck was set on fire as XCOM's troops went to the upper layers. The squad proceeded back to the lower decks and exited through the large opening in the hull of the ship.
They kept their guard up in case any alien decided to pop out to not be burnt alive. A few crackles from the soldiers surveilling the area erupted. A Chrysslaid fell from the top deck of the ship and into the water. Alpha-2 and Bravo-2 looked up in case there were more, but none came.
The area was silent. Only the distant crackling of burning wood could be heard and some faint sizzling from all the hard labour of the town going to waste. Faint shrieks echoed through the hull of the nearby ship, but they died out as the flames got louder. The air was as ash-ridden as it had been during the entire night of the operation. Not a single man or woman wanted to breathe it in. They only took short inhales to satisfy the basic need to breathe. Breathing in so much smoke would not be healthy.
"Colonel, is it done?" Lt Cartwright asked.
"I wouldn't be so quick, Lieutenant," Archer replied. "Guard up. Those things can pop out of anywhere."
The task force spread out to search the area for any hostiles. After long minutes of silence, they were convinced that the threat was dealt with, but the Chryssalids were sly and could make a comeback. They were still sceptical, and thus, on high alert. A crackle came through the helmets of the XCOM soldiers.
"Squads, listen up! We've got incoming two alien pods dropping in your immediate AO. ETA less than 2 minutes. Evacuate the area, now!"
The squad looked at each other in shock from the sudden revelation. Archer sprang into action and put his helmet on Speaker.
"All units, evacuate the area now! Everyone, leave the area and spread out!"
"What happened?" Lt Cartwright asked.
"Aliens are dropping pods so run to our transport and spread out!"
The troops ran out of the docks and yelled for their distant comrades to exit towards the carriers. The manoeuvre was disorderly but organised enough to let the LAV get through without accidentally running over anyone. As the soldiers ran out of the docks, a loud screech could be heard in the distance. The troops ran spread out into alleyways, trying to find their way out of an unfamiliar settlement.
"Archer, impact in less than a minute! Forget running, take cover!" Henry ordered through the comms.
"Everyone stop running and get to cover! Brace for impact, now!" Archer relayed.
The troops relied on their instincts. They heard the whistling of the foreign objects descending in free fall overhead. The soldiers went to hide inside the remains of buildings and whatever rubble they could find to hide from the potential shrapnel caused by the impact. The whistling got even louder as they ran. Once they found a spot, the soldiers went into a prone position, kept their legs flat on the ground and covered their heads tucked into the ground. They braced for the impact. Every man prayed that the pod would not land near, or worse, on them.
"Impact in 5 seconds!" Henry warned.
The whistling became deafening until it transitioned into a loud crash. As the sound pierced the bodies of every man in the area, they clenched all their muscles and kept their body as low onto the ground as possible. Thousands of small pieces of rock flew in all direction and came tumbling down on the troops. Luckily their gear protected them from most of the sharp edges of the debris — a few groans indicated those who were unlucky. The dust settled and Archer allowed his troops to get back up. The soldiers kept their bodies pressed until the commanding voice brought them out of their earthy shell of comfort
"Everyone, report all wounded," he ordered.
A man yelled for help in the background and more pleas erupted. The medics rushed to the countless victims of the small yet sudden bombardment. Archer had another main concern.
"Nobody approach those pods! Those things will kill you," he warned.
The nearby soldiers looked at him and nodded — their green uniforms and faces tainted by ash and dirt. Some had red markings as they used whatever pieces of cloth they could use to provide some basic first-aid. Some opened their bottles of water to wash the dirt and blood off their exposed skin.
"FO-1, one pod has crashed in your area. The other one landed in the ocean near the port. Stay away from them," Henry dictated.
"Copy that, Commander. We're treating our wounded."
The pods suddenly emitted a buzz. It was soon replaced by a deafening series of pulsating ringing. The noise was unpleasant to everyone around it. Even the pilots and drivers at the temporary camp could hear the noise coming from the town in the background.
"Everyone, activate noise suppression!" Archer ordered his troops.
The officers in Mission Overview recoiled from the live audio feed from the soldiers. Henry removed his headset as he heard the same noise.
"Officers, get me a sonar scan," he ordered.
Shortly after, an officer reported on the findings.
"Sir, the pods are emitting a series of rapidly pulsating noises!" an officer informed. "The one in landed in the shore is different, though."
"What do you mean?"
"Sir, the one near our forces emits a constant noise. The other one emits it in 10-second intervals."
Another officer yelled out to inform on the developments," Sir, our lifeform scan is picking up multiple Chrysslaid signatures from the ocean! It could be due to interference, but the concentration is really high."
"Get me a satellite image if you can. Follow the mass of Chryssalids. And, get me the Skeldar on it too!"
The combat officer flew the Skeldar drone towards the crash site of the pod. He noticed a wave of countless Chryssalids emerging out of the water and rushing towards the recently crashed object. He drove the drone closer to get a better look. The Chryssalids gathered around the pod and started hacking at it with their claws. They made their deafening shrieks as they jabbed and slashed the grey object.
"Sir, the aliens are attacking the pod," the combat officer reported.
As the sonar scan showed that the pod was done playing its earsplitting tune, the Chryssalids ran towards the other source of the disturbing noise.
"Commander, the Chryssalids are running towards the second pod on land. Our troops are there!"
Archer organised his task force to gather the wounded and leave the area. His intuition was correct when Henry chimed in," Archer, get your troops out of there, ASAP! There is a massive Chryssalid swarm headed your way. Full retreat! I repeat, full retreat!"
The shrieks of the angered alien mob could be heard. Archer relayed the orders and got his share of the task force to reload their guns and prepare to provide cover fire.
"Forget fighting back, Colonel. Get out of there. That's an order!" Henry demanded.
As his Canadian companions gathered the last of their men, Archer got his troops to follow, occasionally stopping to shoot at the enlargening Chryssalid crowd. One thing was for sure, his current task force at full strength could not have defeated the new wave of enemies. There were way too many to count. Somehow, the initial colony in the town was only scratching the surface. There were enough Chryssalids to overpack even the largest soccer stadium.
As the soldiers ran past the pod, they covered their ears and kept running towards their camp. Those aiding the wounded got some cover fire to get rid of any alien getting too close. As the soldiers turned around, they realised that they were no longer being followed. The Chryssalid swarm gathered around the pod and desperately slashed and clawed at it. They jabbed their fanged legs and cried in pain due to the strength of the alloy used by their masters.
"Commander, the Chryssalids are no longer pursuing our troops. . . They're attacking the pod, sir."
"The pod?" Henry mumbled.
"Yes. Every alien is focused on it," the officer reiterated.
The Commander soon understood the situation. The devices were different from the abduction pods. They were the same design but had different purposes. Unlike their counterparts, they were lures. The sound produced by them was deafening. It was likely some form of crowd control. If the Chryssalids can be controlled using loud sounds, then the aliens are using it to order an attack. They're actively playing a role in this fight.
No. Henry realised his mistake. The alien strategic body had only stepped in. The Chryssalids were thriving in the cover of the ocean. The aliens lured them out in the open. The large bugs only came out because they were disturbed. The alien hierarchs did not play a role but were observing. They intervened once they realised that the tides had turned against the enemy of their enemy.
The aliens were engaging in some odd form of proxy warfare. An independent Chryssalid colony was attacked and fought valiantly — self-preservation in mind. A nearby oceanic colony was thriving but had no connection to its neighbour. The aliens wanted a victory so they riled up the nearby force.
"What a terrible fucking being," Henry murmured.
"Sir?" a nearby officer replied, confused.
"Officers, tell all our forces to evac. Queue some of our fighters. I want them equipped with cluster bombs. Carpet bomb the entire town," the Commander ordered.
"Yes, sir!" the officers replied without hesitation.
He knew that cluster bombs were illegal, but he had some made in case the need arose. He would not have to deal with the aftermath.
"Get me some pictures of the Chryssalid swarm. I'll need it for the Council."
The officers did not understand the political aspect of the situation, but they obeyed the Commander's orders. He would need it to justify his actions. Condor-1 was available and could be equipped with the bombs. After a few minutes, the officers informed the Commander that an aircraft was on the way. A blip came in the room and the Commander turned to see the source. A green marker shaped in a fighter jet slowly moved across the map.
The soldiers on the ground had gone away from the area. Henry ordered XCOM's forces to pull out. The rest was not his problem but Canada's. They would have to survey the remains of the battlefield for any remaining aliens. More importantly, they would have to deal with the implications of an oceanic colony of aliens. Although, something told Henry that he'd have to find a way to counter it as well.
After an hour, the task force had fully evacuated the fishing town. Condor-1 got the all-clear to bomb the area. XCOM's satellites surveyed the bombardment. The Chryssalids were still attacking the source of their agony. Soon, a plane flew overhead and dropped multiple objects. A few seconds passed. An explosion. Another explosion. A cluster of explosions followed. There were too many to count. Such was the power of illegal weapons.
The smoke cleared and the Skeldar drone could not detect any heat signatures. The Canadian Army also responded; they accepted that the matter be fallen into their hands. For all the politicians were concerned, XCOM did its job. The outcome did not matter.
The officers breathed sighs of relief. They slouched in their chairs after the taxing operation. The Commander was as relieved about it being over. He cleaned up his stations as he needed to get to his quarters. His sleep schedule would be disturbed for two days, but such was the reality of being Commander; no matter how much he planned and calculated, the aliens just would not comply.
Perhaps the alien strategist was challenging Henry on a personal level — attacking his sleep. Henry laughed internally at the thought. His mind, when tired, made him sound almost insane. To him, the entire ordeal had just turned into another insane nightmare. Maybe, he should take a break the next day, after finishing his reports. He wondered if he would even have the time, given how lengthy the report would have to be. Plus, he'd need some explanations from Vahlen.
The Commander placed his mug into the cleaning bin and looked around in case he forgot something. His legs begged him to walk through the doors of Mission Control, so he did. H removed his cap from his head and ran his hands through his hair as he walked. Perhaps, a shower would ease him into his sleep. He felt dirty due to the layer of moisture on his shirt too.
He couldn't help but stop in the middle of his tracks to ease his breathing. What have I gotten myself into?