DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN X-COM APOCALYPSE OR ANYTHING CONTAINED WITHIN SAID GAME.

Chapter One

"Run! They're right behind us!"

I swore and pushed away from the brick wall, breaking into a fast sprint. Risking a glance behind me, I saw three Megapol officers less than ten yards away.

"Stop!" one of them yelled. "You're under arrest!"

The officers were armed, but we knew they weren't allowed to use deadly weapons on civilians. Glancing behind me again, I saw something that made me curse once more. The officer in the lead, presumably the fastest runner, had just grabbed a stun grapple from his belt and was readying it to fire at us.

"Stun grapple!" I yelled to the boy running beside me. "Take cover!"

We were in luck, as a low brick wall suddenly came into view on our right. Taking a run up and leaping over the wall, we ducked down behind it as two stun bolts impacted on the wall where we'd just been standing. Knowing the weapon would take a moment or two to recharge, we leapt to our feet and plunged into another dark alleyway. Taking two or three turns through the seedy streets we knew so well, it appeared we'd lost the cops. The two of us sank down on the ground to get our breath back.

"That was close," I panted. "They must have been lying in wait for us."

Thomas nodded, "Somebody must have tipped them off. I wonder if – "

"Maybe someone did, but it was too big a risk to take. I never wanted to do that shop in the first place."

I closed my eyes and sighed deeply, leaning back against the hard brick wall of the alleyway, feeling the dampness of the street soaking through my jeans. I'd quit smoking cigarettes two years ago, but at times like this I often wished I had something like that to calm me down and steady my nerves.

"You think it's safe to come out yet?"

I shrugged, "We'll give it a few more minutes, to let those cops go back to their doughnuts, then we'll head back to my place."

I had been on the run from the police most of my life. Living in the worst slum district of Mega Primus was not the nicest existence I could have managed. The neighbourhood was run by the Diablo gang, and hardly a day went by without fights and killings between the gang members and their great rivals Osiron. I had no interest in joining the gang, though they had tried to recruit me more than once. I broke the law because it was the only way to survive, not because I wanted to make a career out of it. Once I'd got enough money, I'd move out of this stinking neighbourhood and set myself up elsewhere in the city.

My mother had died when I was three and my father had walked out on the family before I was even born. I lived with my older brother and sister, both of whom worked in a local shop, and struggled to make enough money to put food on the table. I was eighteen years old, had quit school long ago, and spent most of my time hanging around my best friend Thomas, looking for odd jobs to scrape a few extra dollars, or robbing shops and other joints for food or money. The two of us had been best friends since we'd grown up on the same street together as infants.

I opened my eyes and glanced without interest at the horde of posters that competed for space on the wall facing me. Advertisements for concerts, political slogans, a couple of flyers by local cafes trying to drum up business, a Citizen's Alert poster telling us exactly what we should do if we witnessed an alien incursion, an X-Com recruitment poster…

I found myself thinking about the alien situation. I'd seen the ships in the sky of course – who hadn't? – but I'd never seen a real-life alien. Thomas claimed he'd seen one in an abandoned street on the edge of our neighbourhood, but I wasn't sure whether or not I believed that. Why would the aliens waste their time out here in the slums? They'd be going after the richer pickings in the luxury apartments or the Senate.

"Thomas?" I said suddenly. "You ever think about signing up with X-Com?"

"No, why?"

"Oh, I was just wondering. It might be something to do one day. They pay you, you know. They'll protect you from the police, too. It might be somewhere to try and make a decent start in life."

"Nah, I wouldn't join X-Com," he said, shaking his head. "I'll tell you something, though…"

"What?"

He looked around with an exaggerated show of caution, then leaned in close to whisper, "I know a guy who asked me to join the Cult of Sirius."

I raised an eyebrow but didn't show any great excitement. The Cult of Sirius were just another one of the factors in the whole alien business that had nothing to do with me or my life.

"They pay you too, and far more than X-Com," Thomas told me. "This guy I was talking to, he earns nearly a thousand dollars a month!"

"Really?" I said, this time with genuine interest. "Where do they get that amount of money to pay people?"

"The whole Cult's run by some reclusive billionaire," he explained. "Claims he was visited by an alien who told him the real reason why they're visiting our planet."

I noted the use of the word 'visiting'; most people thought of it as 'attacking', but I said nothing, allowing him to continue.

"There's a Cult meeting in the old town hall tonight. This guy said I should come along, and bring any friends who were interested. You want to go?"

I didn't answer right away. It sounded interesting. The money was what attracted me; I wasn't too interested in the political side of things.

"What kind of things do the Cultists do?" I asked, out of curiosity.

"He said that most new recruits become part of security teams. X-Com has been raiding the Cult's temple a lot recently and we're desperate for security personnel."

I didn't miss his reference to the Cult as 'we'. Did Thomas already think of himself as a member?

"So, what do you think?" he asked. "I'm going to go along for sure, but it'd be really cool if we both went. There's a special bonus for anyone who recruits a friend."

I decided I might as well go along and see what it was all about. If I didn't want the job, I could always back out.

"Sure, I'll come and have a look," I said. "Where and when?"

"Tonight – ten o'clock – at the old town hall," he said, then dropped his voice to a whisper again. "Remember it's a top secret meeting. The Cult's been made illegal by Megapol and if the cops find out we'll be in trouble. Don't tell anyone about it."

"Don't worry."

* * *

It was just before ten o'clock when we arrived on foot at the old town hall. There was nobody in sight, save for a couple of old tramps lying asleep under blankets and various pieces of trash. There was certainly no evidence of any large congregation of people.

"There's nobody here," I said.

"Ssh!" Thomas hissed. "Somebody might hear you! We don't want to bring any attention to ourselves! I told you it's a secret meeting. Everyone will be inside."

We walked to the town hall's entrance and as we passed through, I had the weirdest sensation that I was being watched. It made sense for the Cult to have posted sentries at the door to watch for police, but I couldn't see anyone. Thomas seemed to know where he was going, and steered me towards a staircase leading down. I had a rough knowledge of the layout of this building; in my younger days I'd been brought here before the juvenile correction board a couple of times, after being caught stealing. I was old enough now that I'd simply be arrested, but on the other hand I was now old enough and wise enough to avoid being caught.

We came to a large pair of double doors and it was here that we met the first person we'd seen in the building. Standing silently in front of the doors, clad from head to toe in black, with the Cult's symbol emblazoned in red on his shirt. He eyed us suspiciously.

"We're here to join the Cult," Thomas announced confidently. "I was asked to come here by one of the Cult members. This is my friend Neil who wanted to come along too."

The man said nothing and stared at us for a moment or two longer, as if trying to evaluate us in some way, then stood aside to allow us to enter. Thomas pushed open the door and we entered the meeting hall. Rows of seats were arranged in a semi-circle fashion before a large stage. Most of the seats appeared to be filled and it seemed the meeting was about to commence. Thomas and I quickly ran to a couple of empty seats near the back, and sat down to listen. I glanced around the room briefly, noting that nearly everybody was wearing the same outfit as the guard outside: black clothes and bold red symbol. I returned my attention to the podium as a tall man with jet black hair stepped up to speak into a microphone.

"Is that the leader?" I whispered to Thomas. "The billionaire guy you were talking about?"

"No – he never makes a public appearance. That's his second-in-command – also his nephew."

The man began speaking.

"Greetings, my brethren," he said in a soft, silky voice that was so quiet as to be barely audible, even over the microphone, but carried such a tremendous weight and power that nobody could possibly miss a word.

It was as if he was everywhere in the room, speaking into everyone's ear at once. He continued, "It has been too long since we last convened like this. The ignorance of the city's police force continues to obstruct our following the path of light and truth."

There was a rumble of disgruntled muttering throughout the room as the Cultists expressed their general dislike of Megapol.

"I must tell you now that this meeting will deviate slightly from the usual agenda," the speaker warned. "But for very good reason. We are extremely fortunate to have with us today a representative from the world of our welcome visitors. It is with immense pride and joy that I invite him to speak."

He took one step to the side as another figure joined him at the mike. Except this one wasn't human. The surprise on my face was matched by the awed expressions and overjoyed gasps from around the room.

It was an alien. It stood the same height as our speaker, had humanoid shape and blue skin. The speaker lifted the mike once more, "Unfortunately our guest does not converse well in our language yet, but I will translate for him."

The alien began speaking in a loud, guttural voice, in a language that meant nothing to Thomas or me. The black-haired man appeared to understand it perfectly though, as he provided an interpretation for the rest of us. It was at this point that I began to stop listening to most of what he was saying. My impatience and short attention span had always been a problem at school; the teachers knew I was bright enough but had extreme difficulty in keeping my interest on any one task for a sufficient length of time.

The room was extremely hot and stuffy at this point, and I found myself nodding off. Every time I found myself slumping forwards, I forced myself to come back to consciousness. It would not go down well if I fell asleep right in the middle of the alien's important speech. The rest of the Cultists appeared to be listening to the oration with rapt interest, but I didn't care. If I was to join the Cult, it would be for the money, nothing more. There was no other driving force in my life. Enough money to buy food to survive, that was all I needed.

The meeting was adjourned before too much longer; apparently there were Megapol officers in the area who might have been tipped off. Our alien guest was spirited away to wherever he had been hiding earlier, and the rest of us began making our way to the various exits, leaving sporadically in small enough numbers that we didn't draw any attention to ourselves. Thomas and I were among the first to get out of the building, and we began walking the two or three miles back to our street.

"So what did you think?" Thomas asked me enthusiastically. "I thought the whole thing sounded totally awesome! I mean, a real-life alien!! I didn't know humans could speak their language, but the speaker must have learned it from them."

"Are you going to join the Cult?" I asked.

"Damn right!" he exclaimed. "I realise now that the police and the media have an extremely prejudiced view of the aliens. That's the first time I've ever heard an alien speak. We shouldn't form opinions about them without hearing their side of the story first."

That was a fair point. In the back of my mind were the stories I'd heard, or read in the paper, about aliens killing people or kidnapping them for experiments. Was that true? Maybe it was just newspaper propaganda against the aliens. I didn't know what to think. Thomas said, "So what about you? Are you going to join?"

I weighed the options once more in my mind. As usual, it all came down to the money. The Cult would pay money, and working for somebody was better than living off the streets and stealing for food.

"What the hell," I said. "I'm in."