Faces
Larry Mann
Back to X-Com Page
"X-COM: UFO Defense" and "X-COM: Terror From The Deep"
Copyright (c) 1994 MicroProse and Mythos Software
"X-Com Saga" Copyright (c) 1994 Russ Brown
"X-Com Saga II: Tales From The Deep" Copyright (c) 1996-97 Larry Mann
ASPECT TWO:: Faces
- - -
X-COM SUBTERRANEAN BASE "ICEHOUSE"
SOMEWHERE IN GREENLAND
Deciding that her gear was finally in order, Lyudmila Mannski
grasped the zippers on her nylon footlocker bag and zipped it shut. Some
of her old gear had of course been replaced either due to aging or because
of new technology, but overall they had done a good job of keeping her
personal effects in order while she was in stasis. The thought triggered a
brief flash of anger, since she had not wanted to be put in stasis in the first
place. She would have protested if she'd been coherent enough at the time.
But, nothing for it now. It was 40 years ago, and the people who'd made
those decisions were likely dead, or not worth killing.
She picked up a small pin resting on the bench beside her: her new
rank insignia. It consisted of a white anchor behind which a gold chain
stretched diagonally. Under X-Com's new naval ranking system that meant
she was a Lieutenant. It was, according to Commander Deborah Hand,
identical to her former rank of Captain, but the concept of naval ranks was a
bit foreign to Lyudmila, and so it still felt like a step down the ladder. Then
again, Deborah probably felt the same way, since in this system the
supreme rank was Captain, not Commander.
Lot of changes. This would take some getting used to.
There was a knock at the doorframe then, and Lyudmila turned to
see a young Asian medic standing there. "The others are starting to wake
up, Lieutenant," she said, a little timidly. "Just so you know."
"Thank you. I'll be there in a minute." With her Russian accent and
a frame comparable to that of Samson, as well as her high psionic rating,
Lyudmila had a tendency to intimidate everyone around her, particularly
people such as this medic, who looked like a brittle twig in comparison. No
surprise that some of her American squadmates who were fond of the
MechWarrior RPGs had nicknamed her `The Elemental'.
She pinned her rank insignia to her coat lapel and headed for the
recovery room.
"Gaah... `Hey, Hicks. Man, you look just like I feel.'"
"Stop with the movie quotes, okay Marcelle?" groaned Zander, the
trooper who had been addressed. Then he coughed and made a noise
which was totally inarticulate but nevertheless reflected the pain in his
throat quite effectively.
"Here, drink this," said the medic, who had entered the room with
three plastic bottles containing a clear liquid, one for each of the troopers.
Otto Zander was first to receive his bottle, then Francois Marcelle, and
finally Himiko Nagano. Their faces all bore similar expressions of disgust
as they drank the foul-tasting fluid.
"Ghah," Himiko croaked. "What is this shit?"
"An electrolyte balancer," said a new and familiar voice, and the
three troopers looked up to see their unit commander entering the room.
"They gave me one too."
"Sorry about the taste," the medic apologized. "But it's the fastest
way to get your body chemistry back in order."
"Sheeze, we didn't have *that* much to drink," Marcelle quipped.
Then he considered for a minute and looked up at Lyudmila. "Did we?"
Himiko snickered. Otto did not. In fact Zander appeared rather
focused on Lyudmila all of a sudden, and she seemed similarly focused on
Zander. "Hey Sarge, what's wrong?" The troopers recognized their squad
leader's "bad feeling" mood, and since he was a psi, his feelings were
rarely ignored.
"What year is it, Captain?" he said to Lyudmila without preamble.
"It's Lieutenant now," she replied. "Under the new ranking system.
And the year is 2040."
The troopers paled. "Wh... *what*??" Himiko finally sputtered.
"You heard me," Lyudmila answered flatly, not willing to let shock
chew up her troops' morale any more than was necessary. "Sergeant, your
rank is Ensign now. Squaddies, consider yourselves `Able Seamen'."
"*2040*?!" Himiko went on. "What did they *do* to us?!"
"*Calm down*, soldier," Lyudmila snapped. "We were placed in
cryo. Apparently someone up top decided we were too valuable a resource-
-"
At that moment a monitor set in the upper part of the wall pinged and
flared to life, and the face of Commander Deborah Hand appeared. She had
been a young woman, and a Squaddie, when the troopers had last seen her,
and the addition of 40 years of age to her face did not help their state of
mind any.
"Lieutenant, I need to speak with you immediately."
"Can we put it off at all, ma'am?" Lyudmila said, trying not to sound
irritated. "I'm in the middle of debriefing my unit."
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but this can't wait. I need you and any
readily available troops to prepare for immediate departure to Tsunami."
Hell, barely a few hours out and they're *already* putting us on the
roster? Lyudmila fumed to herself as the monitor went dead. Outwardly
she expressed her frustration as a sharp exhale through her nose. "All
right, squad, you heard the lady. Soon as you can walk without losing your
balance, get into gear. The techs'll show you where everything is."
"Yes ma'am!" Zander replied immediately, his old reflexes kicking
in at Lyudmila's commanding voice. But at the rate we're going I wouldn't
expect us to be ready for much of anything for at least half a day, Lyu, he
added privately.
I know, she answered. Don't worry about it. And she left.
* * *
SOMEWHERE IN THE NORTH PACIFIC OCEAN
"Bogey on sonar, ma'am. Bearing zero-four-five, coming straight at
us."
Deborah was beside the pilot in an instant, and a moment later
Lyudmila joined her. She was the only trooper from her squad on this
rather abrupt flight to she knew not where, since the others were obviously
in no condition to go anywhere. Another Triton transport would be
dispatched for them later.
"Can we get a visual?" Deborah asked.
"Aye, ma'am," the pilot pressed a couple buttons on his console,
and a moment later the sonar image was replaced by a dim but
comprehensible view of a small, yellow-hulled object which seemed to
stare back at them with big green eyes. "I confirm a bandit, tagging as USO
Zero-Eight."
"`USO'?" Lyudmila asked.
"Unidentified Submersible Object," Deborah elaborated. "One of the
smaller ones we've been running into."
What exactly *are* we dealing with, here? Lyudmila thought to
herself, but kept silent. This was no time for an explanation of what the hell
was going on.
"Barracuda Zero-Two to Triton Zero-Three," the radio crackled. "I
confirm targeting solution on bandit USO Zero-Eight. Do I have permission
to engage?"
"Permission granted, Zero-Two," Deborah responded. "But stay at
maximum range. I don't want to lose my escort, understood?"
"Roger that, Zero-Three. Engaging."
A brief flare of thruster energy cut through the darkness of the ocean
as the Barracuda interceptor shifted onto a new course and rocketed off
toward the small yellow submarine. The pilot flipped open the safety
guards on the weapons systems and primed the chambers for the depleted-
uranium torpedoes he carried. As the targeting computer reported the
readiness of the weapons systems, the small blip marking the location of
the submarine passed inside the range marker. The pilot pressed the
trigger.
A gleaming metallic cylinder shot from the belly of the Barracuda
and streaked off into the abyss. The pilot watched its track on the scanner
as it approached the larger USO blip, and a flash confirmed that it had
impacted with its target. The ship continued to approach them, however.
The pilot waited impatiently for the launch tube to be re-primed, and the
`ready' signal came not a moment too soon for him. He squeezed the
trigger again, sending another fish after the enemy. Again, the weapon's
scanner track flew toward its target...
It missed. Cursing, the pilot again began the interminable wait for
the tube to reload. He contemplated moving in closer in order to throw an
Ajax torpedo at the thing, but that might subject him to enemy fire. He'd
already had one close call with those weird green energy beams and had
no desire to repeat the process if he could help it. But if this last D.U.P.
torpedo didn't do the job, he wouldn't have much choice--
In the next moment the decision was taken out of his hands, for the
USO changed course and rocketed away at a speed well beyond the
maximum capacity of the Barracuda. How the hell those things moved so
damn fast in all this water was beyond him. But, his job was done.
"Barracuda Zero-Two to Triton Zero-Three," he radioed the transport.
"USO Zero-Eight has bugged out. Returning to formation."
"Good work, Zero-Two," answered the voice of the Commander.
"Drinks on me when we get to Tsunami."
"Roger that, ma'am," the pilot said, not concealing a grin.
* * *
X-COM AQUATIC BASE "TSUNAMI"
NORTH PACIFIC OCEAN
"Triton Zero-One on final approach," the duty officer reported.
"Doesn't look good, ma'am."
"What happened?" Lyudmila asked.
"A cruise ship was attacked by unknowns near Hawaii. USOs were
detected in the immediate area. Standard squad of 10 troopers and one
Coelecanth were dispatched." He became more downcast. "The CO
aborted the mission. Coelecanth was destroyed. Seven troopers KIA. 80%
of equipment lost."
"Damn..." Deborah hissed.
"May I see the flight roster?" Lyudmila asked.
"Yes, ma'am," the officer said, handing her his datapad. Lyudmila
went down the list of crew and equipment, and her eyes got wider and
wider, in proportion to her disbelief.
"You sent a squad of one officer and nine *rookies* on what was
obviously a terrorist attack? With *pistols*? And *no armor*?!?"
"It was all we had available, ma'am!" the man snapped defensively.
"And we don't *have* armor."
"What do you mean you *don't have*--" Lyudmila started to rail
when Deborah got her attention.
"We don't have any armor, Lyudmila," Deborah said tensely. "The
old alloys dissolve in or near sea water. And even if they didn't, there's no
Elerium anymore!"
Lyudmila just stared at her in disbelief. At that moment the surface
of the water in the sub pen began to bubble, and a silvery shape began to
rise into view.
"Look, now's not the right time to explain what the bureaucracy did
to us while you were asleep. I'll fill you and your people in later, all right?"
Lyudmila hesitated for a long moment, then finally nodded, realizing
her temper had taken the helm at a bad time, and turned and watched the
Triton move into docking position. Pockmarks from some kind of weapon
marred the otherwise sleek hull. Evidently the terrorists had cornered the
troopers in their transport. That was a very bad place to get cornered,
particularly if one of the bugs had a Blaster Launcher, or was a decent psi...
The hatch on the side of the vessel snapped open and three
bedraggled troopers filed out, the Lieutenant looking almost as gloomy as
the two Seamen, who had that familiar "Why the hell am I here?" look in
their eyes. Lyudmila recognized that look, having seen it once too often in
her own troopers. Technicians clambered into the sub and, after a moment,
hauled out two plastic tubs, one containing several weapons and other
assorted items, the other containing the corpse of something. Lyudmila
had barely set eyes on the latter when the shape of the body registered,
although its color and scales did not.
"What the hell kind of a Sectoid is that?"
"We're calling them Aquatoids," Deborah said as Lyudmila knelt
down to take a closer look at the body. "They're obviously Sectoids, but
engineered for underwater existence. I'll fill you in on the aliens we've
seen at the briefing."
Lyudmila nodded and turned her attention to the plastic tub of
weapons. They were... unusual, to say the least, dominated by bright green
and yellow -- or in the case of what had to be grenades, red -- coloration, a
sharp contrast to the drab metals which had dominated the old arsenal of
alien plasma weapons. There were a few sundry items of human origin in
there as well, which the troopers had apparently had time to salvage,
presumably from the aliens they did manage to kill. They all seemed to be
made of gold, she noticed, or at least had some gold element in them. Gold
rings, a gold watch... there was some kind of necklace buried under the pile
of grenades too. Carefully she picked it out...
...and stared at it in surprised silence for a long moment. The
simple metal chain ended in a gold mount, but Lyudmila's attention was on
the large crystal held in place by that mount. It was a piece of golden-
orange crystal which seemed to sparkle, even in the drab flourescent
lighting of the sub pen, and despite the fact that it appeared to be encased
in some kind of thin plastic laminate.
To Lyudmila and Deborah, who had fought many missions in the
Alien War, it was unmistakable.
"Elerium..." Lyudmila said in amazement.
"You found this on the ship??" Deborah turned to the Lieutenant
from the Triton, an officer by the name of Gerard Richter.
"Y-yes, ma'am," Richter answered, not quite understanding what all
the excitement was about. "One of the lizard-things was carrying it."
"But *how*...?" Deborah said, more to herself than to anyone else
present. An Elerium crystal was not something you found on someone's
gold neckchain on a public cruise ship. The level of security which had
surrounded the Elerium stocks after the Alien War -- or perhaps it should be
the First Alien War, now -- made such an idea near unthinkable. And yet,
somehow...
Lyudmila, for her part, was staring more and more intently at the
crystal, which seemed to glitter back at her in response. Almost as if it
were calling out to her, trying to tell her something. She stood up, and let
the crystal settle into her left hand.
And suddenly she was *fairly certain* that something was calling out
to her... it sounded the same... almost the same as...
She closed her fist around the crystal and gripped it tightly.
HELP!!! SOMEONE!! ANYONE!! PLEASE HELP ME!!!!!
A panicked face of a young girl with blond hair and very dark --
almost black --eyes, and an almost primal scream.
Lyudmila reeled and lost her balance, falling backward and landing
unglamorously on the decking with a cry. The crystal clattered to the floor,
making a small, bright flash as it impacted with the metal deck. In the next
instant Deborah and a few of the officers were at her side, while others just
stood there staring, more than a little bewildered.
"Lyudmila! Are you all right?!"
Lyudmila said nothing for a very long moment, her eyes locked on
an imaginary point in front of her, her breathing quick and shallow. Then
she shook herself violently and glanced around at the people clustered
around her.
"What happened, Lyudmila?!" Deborah pressed.
A flicker of light caught Lyudmila's eye, and she found herself
looking at the Elerium pendant, still lying on the decking where she'd
dropped it. Slowly, she raised one hand and pointed toward the crystal.
"I want to find out," she said quietly. "Who that pendant belonged
to."
END TWO
END