A/N: This is another one of those "side mission" chapters, though unlike Operation Guardian this one isn't really based on any one mission in particular. I'll also admit it's a little self-indulgent on my part, because if there's one thing I love in fiction, it's underwater scenes. And I'll be darned if I didn't write a story with at least one of those. Had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you enjoy!
"Keep movin', lads! Stay on the attack!"
Summer rushed up into cover alongside the red-headed Mucallin brothers, joining their suppressive fire with her own as the three of them advanced. On her left and right, various members of Strikes Three and Five moved into position, lobbing grenades and smokescreens alike and saturating the battlefield in explosions and salmon-shaded shrouds. For today's mission, Faulke had seen fit to deploy two Strike Teams simultaneously to assault the objective, with Carter taking the lead and Strike Five's leader - a veteran British sniper named Jordan Loveday - filled in as his ASL. That meant that, for today at least, Summer was just another rank-and-file Agent, one of the ten that was currently spread out across the battlefield. Two Engineers, a Recon agent, three Support agents, a Huntress in disguise, and three Commandos, ...any other mission, such a roster would have been overkill.
Against an Outsider outpost tower, it was the only thing keeping them alive.
The outpost in question was a massive tower built on a platform above the surface of Lake Michigan, just a few miles off the coast of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Although it was winter and hardly the season for beach goers, conservationists had noticed that the water level of the lake had been slowly declining in recent months. This, coupled with reports from locals of a strange tower suddenly appearing in the distance, gave the Bureau enough information to put two and two together and locate the outpost. No one was quite sure why the Outsiders were draining the lake, but no one seemed too pleased with the idea either. It was a relatively straightforward mission - storm the tower, neutralize the Field Commander manning the outpost, salvage whatever useful tech they could, and return the stolen water.
Easier said than done, though, as the tower was very well defended.
"Three Outsider firing squads with Drone support incoming!"
"Lime-Five and Alpha-Three, drop those Drones! Supports, keep the Commandos covered in smoke while they draw the firing squad's attention! Echo-Five and Romeo-Three, take out the east and west ones! Sierra-Three, take those bastards in the center out!"
The already-chaotic battlefield became even more discordic as twin laser blasts cored the drones, while three perfectly-placed smoke grenades fell at the feet of Knox and the Mucallin brothers. Summer surged forward as satchel charges and landmines courtesy of Shen and Briggs scattered two of the deadly formations, drawing her blade in anticipation as she charged the line.
Although her Muton dueling blade remained unchanged, something about it felt different as it extended in her hands. After her duel with the Infiltrator in the Morgue, Summer had done some thinking, and realized that she'd neglected a facet of Huntress life that had been almost integral back on Remnant. Back home, Huntsmen and Huntresses thrived on giving their weapons imaginative, personalized touches, names that held meaning and represented core tenets and beliefs their wielders held. An extension of their Aura, and by extension, their very soul. Even the simplest sword and shield could hold generations' worth of stories, passed down from parent to child as it was used to strike down the Grimm and protect the innocent.
A weapon like her Muton blade, which had carried her through numerous fights, deserved the same treatment.
Thus, Wandering Thorn earned its name.
Flashes of red preceded splashes of blue as hands and heads were severed and sent flying. Summer's invisible shield protected her from most of the retaliatory fire, letting her carve a bloody path through the alien ranks with little resistance. The mighty battle cries of her Scottish allies seemed to banish all fatigue from her bones, and terrorized the leftover troops long enough for them to be cut down by a pair of LMGs.
"That's the ticket, lass!" shouted Jack, the shorter of the two as he snapped a new box of ammo into his M60. "You'd make a mighty fine Mucallin, you would!"
Summer grinned as she retreated back into safety. "Thanks, Juliett! One of my favorite parts of the job, really."
The ponytail-sporting redhead cackled madly. "Aye. And this is mine!"
He pulled a disposable rocket launcher off his back, aimed at a cluster of Sectoids, and fired, sending the little gray men flying in chunks of burning flesh.
"Ha! Good call, little brother!" called Alfred over the din of battle.
A nearby Support agent, a middle-aged Spanish Interpol medic named Rodrigo Diaz, didn't seem quite as enthusiastic. "Careful with those rockets, Juliett," he said as he rolled his eyes, snapping a fresh cell into his laser SMG, "Those things can hurt you just as much as it can hurt these things."
"Sure, sure, but then you can just patch me up, right?"
"I'd really rather if I didn't have to."
Summer was about to join in on the banter herself when Loveday's voice crackled through the radio. "More troops coming in from the top! Loads more Outsiders and Sectoids, plus one of those bloody Mutons!"
"I want overlapping lanes of fire as soon as those doors open," growled Carter, "Cut down as many of them as you can before they get a chance to rush for cover, then deal with whatever lives."
The troops moved to follow the orders, Summer and Knox taking center position while Alfred and Diaz went left, followed by Jack and Max going right. Smokescreens, satchel charges, and proximity mines were flung with reckless abandon, and as soon as the front of the tower opened, lasers and lead rained down.
It should have been a flawless plan.
Except it wasn't.
"Ah shite! The Muton's tanking all our shots!"
"Outsiders are flinging those ruddy Sectoids to trip the mines ahead of them!"
"They've got a sniper somewhere! Golf just got his shield blasted!"
"GRENADES! GET OUTTA THE SMOKE!"
"Fall back! They're opening fire!"
Summer rushed back to the south end of the platform with most of the rest of the operatives, doing her best to duck and dodge the storm of red that chased them. She yelped as a shot from the Muton's Scatter Blaster bled its heat into her shoulders, shattering her shield and burning out its power cell. She just barely managed to recover her footing, scrambling back into cover with a pained sigh.
To her right, she saw Jack slide into some cover just south of a gun tower, on the very edge of the main platform.
To her left? She saw the other Scottish Commando get knocked off his feet by another blast from the armored alien.
Summer didn't need the radio to hear Jack's anguished scream.
"Alpha-Five just hit the deck! Somebody stabilize him!"
"There's too many of them! And they're getting too close!"
"I'll try to clear some space with a Push! Grab him as soon as you see an opening!"
"Juliett-Five, we need a rocket on that Muton NOW!"
The lone standing Scottish Commando tore his gaze away from his fallen brother, pulled another rocket tube from his pack, and aimed squarely at the hulking mass of green and gray. "One rocket comin' for big green! This is for Alfred, you blooming bastard!"
At that very moment, three things happened in very quick succession that turned the mission from "bad" to "worse" in less than a second.
The first was that the hidden Sniper lined up a shot on Jack just as he squeezed the trigger, punching a single beam of pure red death squarely into his ribs. The Commando howled in pain, recoiling and falling to one knee.
The second was that the force from the shot threw off Jack's aim just as the rocket's propulsion ignited, sending it veering off course. The explosive payload sailed harmlessly over the Muton's head, instead crashing into one of the fortified guntowers the Outsiders had set up.
The third was that when the rocket exploded, it took out one of the three support legs of the tower, making it teeter uncertainly for a moment before falling...straight for where Jack was currently kneeling, groaning in pain.
Summer's blood froze as she watched certain death fall towards the injured Mucallin. Before she could stop herself, she ran towards Jack, throwing herself at the fallen trooper and trying to grab him, lift him, move him out of harm's way. But all she really succeeded in doing was pushing herself and her fellow Agent into an uncontrolled flight off the edge of the platform, hanging in mid-air for just a moment before gravity took hold again.
The good news was that she and Jack had cleared the falling tower.
The bad news was that they were now falling towards the surface of the lake below them.
The sound of Carter (and everyone else) screaming over their radios became lost in the howling wind that whipped past them. Summer grunted and groaned as she tried to twist and turn in mid-air, angling herself and the soldier's limp form to reduce as much surface area as possible. She knew that from this height, with the water below her, the fall wouldn't kill them. Not if she dove in properly. But it was still going to hurt like hell even if done perfectly, and the landing wouldn't even be the worst part compared to what came after it.
Summer had just enough time to try to pull as much air into her lungs as possible before her feet and legs hit the water with a deafening splash.
The entire world went quiet.
Cold. Cold cold cold. That was all that Summer was able to process about her new surroundings. The fact that it was cold. Cold and dark. Her legs felt like they were made of jelly, precious air leaked out of her nose and mouth before she clamped her jaw and locked her throat shut, and if she could see, she'd be able to follow those bubbles to the surface that seemed a million miles away.
Not that she needed light to know which way was up. She had specifically landed so that her feet were already pointing down. Her body had done its best to stay as straight and flat as a board as it cut through the water, so the surface and all the air she could ever want was right above her head. All she had to do now was kick.
And kick she did, putting all her strength into her calves, the shock of impact shaking off as she frog and flutter kicked her way towards what she really hoped was the surface. Her free arm clawed and dug through the darkness, her other arm occupied with holding onto her precious cargo.
The soldier in her grasp wasn't struggling. In a way, that was good. It meant they wouldn't be fighting her as she made her desperate ascent, one that was already difficult enough without them thrashing and squirming in a panic. It took all her concentration to keep herself from succumbing to shock and fatigue, from flailing around and blowing out all her breath in silent screams, to will her legs to keep kicking despite feeling like they were tied down with lead. And the current that threatened to pull her back down and undo all her progress didn't help.
It was hard for Summer to fight against the current. Harder when her air reserves started to dwindle. And harder still when she was carrying two hundred pounds of what very well could have been dead weight. But she forced herself to keep pressing on, to use every muscle in her body, to spend every bit of breath she still had to power her arms and legs.
She couldn't deny her base instincts forever.
A strained gurgle escaped Summer's throat, and she almost, reflexively, followed up the forced exhale with an inhale. She managed to stop herself by clamping her nose and mouth shut with her free hand, denying any more water entry into her lungs. But the damage was done, and the effect took its toll. She was starting to drown, and the surface was still so far away.
Part of her brain screamed at her to drop the soldier. Not to abandon them, just cast them aside long enough to shoot up, grab a nice fresh breath of air, then dive back down to retrieve them with replenished lungs. She rejected such a plan almost immediately - not only was it horrible, it was also risky. There was no guarantee she'd be able to find the soldier in the darkness again after she ascended, and worse, the current might pull them all the way back down again.
Besides, if she was drowning at this point, then the soldier had even less time than she did.
No. Whatever happened, she and her rescued agent were in this together.
So she closed her eyes, focused not on the burning lungs, but only on her legs, willing them to kick powerfully and rhythmically. One stroke. Two strokes. Three strokes. Four. Then again. And again. And again. Just like back then…
As her body continued to swim through the murky depths, her mind itself swam through an old memory. This wasn't Summer's first brush with a watery demise. Once, on the farm, when she was younger, a family had come to visit. They wanted to buy chickens for their homestead in Patch. Well, the parents did at least. The little boy they'd brought with them seemed more interested in the other kind of chicks on the farm.
He was cute, in his own way. Tanned skin. Messy blonde hair. He was a little too young for any of her sisters to see him as anything other than an adorable surrogate little brother, so he tried his wily seven-year-old charms on wooing Summer. She wasn't sure she understood at the time - boys still had cooties, and all - but she liked the attention. So she spent the afternoon with him while their parents argued over egg prices.
They were walking on a bridge over a river when the boy decided to up his game. He climbed on top of the railing separating safety and certain death, and loudly proclaimed that he would walk along the edge to win Summer's hand. And to his credit? He certainly did walk along that edge. He made it a full ten steps before he tripped on his own shoelace and fell off, disappearing into the river below.
Without screaming for help, alerting the grownups, or even casting off her favorite white sundress, Summer dove in after him.
It wasn't as cold or dark as the water around her now. But the current was certainly stronger. She did her best to follow the golden head as it sporadically splashed and flailed its arms on the surface, trying to keep above the rushing river. Summer was a strong swimmer, and she managed to catch up to the boy. But in his panic, he clutched onto her with both arms and legs, trying to use her as a flotation device but only succeeding in pulling them both under.
Her seven-year-old arms and legs were strong, but the current was stronger. So was the boy, as evidenced by the fact that his death squeeze was strong enough to crush all the air from Summer's lungs, her breath billowing around her in bubbly screams. "Let go!" she kept shouting, but the message was drowned out by the river, moments before she started to suffer the same fate. Her silver eyes went wide as she took her first gulp of river water, and as awful as it tasted, she couldn't keep herself from a second helping.
Whatever strength she had in her had left, joining the bubbles that floated to the surface beyond her reach.
She should have drowned then.
And yet, something inside her stirred.
Despite the empty lungs, the burning throat, the tired legs, and the boy who was accidentally killing her, she refused to relent.
She puffed whatever air she had left into her cheeks, making a face of determination that only a child knew how to make. She kicked and pulled her arms to her side, doing her best to overcome the current as one arm wrapped back around the boy. It must have triggered something in him as well, because he loosened his grip and started kicking as well, pulling her up just as much as she was pulling him.
The river wanted her to die.
But her spirit refused.
After finally breaking the surface and gasping for air, the two children had worked in tandem to cut across the river to the nearest shore. The boy wasn't as strong a swimmer as she was, but he was strong enough to pull his own weight and let Summer handle hers. By the time the adults finally realized what had happened, the kids had managed to pull themselves onto dry land, shivering and coughing and groaning and gasping but alive.
The boy's name was Taiyang, and twenty years later, she'd end up marrying the damn fool.
As the memory came to an end, part of her wondered if she'd end up marrying this soldier too.
Fortunately, she'd have the chance to find out as now, just like back then, she finally broke the surface.
Her first breath of air sounded like a violent shriek, and it was almost wasted given just how much water was in her throat. She hacked and coughed and vomited the unwanted fluid forcibly, wheezing and gasping as she started treading water. Taking a moment to make sure that the agent in her grasp had their head above the water, she swam for the nearest solid object, which in this case happened to be a cave that had been exposed by the receding surface. One exhausted swim later, Summer finally climbed onto the muddy cave floor looking less like a dignified huntress and more like a drowned rat. The soldier she'd saved didn't look much better, but at least flopping onto the cave floor was enough of a shock to wake him up without Summer having to resuscitate him.
As Jack coughed up lake water and curled over onto his side, his savior did the same before pulling out her radio...only to frown as more water poured out of the flooded electronic device.
Looks like I won't be able to signal Carter and the rest of them for a while, she thought. Not until this damn thing dries out.
She clicked her Venn Brace, flooding the cave with light. Then she drew Wandering Thorn, fully extended it, and plunged it into the ground once it was at full power. Thank the gods that Outsider tech and the stuff Dresner makes are waterproof, she thought as she warmed herself up next to the heated blade. Then she cast a glance at Jack, who was clutching his side and whimpering in pain.
Oh. Right. He got shot.
"Hold on, Jack," whispered Summer, fishing a small vial of a grayish fluid with an aerosol spray cap out of her pack. It wasn't as big as a Medkit, and it wasn't as effective, but this one-use healing solution could still mend major injuries. At least for long enough to get the person proper medical care. "Open your jacket, and I'll patch you up."
Jack looked over at Summer, with the vial of life-saving mist, and shook his head fervently.
"I...I can't…"
Summer frowned. Was Jack really being self-conscious right now? "If you're worried about appearing indecent, don't. It's just the two of us, and I've seen shirtless men before. And we're both adults here, there's no reason to -"
"Yes there is," coughed Jack, flecks of blood staining his sleeve as he hugged his drenched jacket tighter.
"Jack Mucallin," said Summer in her "authoritative Huntress" voice. "You took a direct hit from an Outsider Sniper, which have been observed multiple times to cause fatal injuries without treatment. Furthermore, your wound was left exposed to bacteria in the lake water, and that fluid may have seeped its way into your respiratory system through that gaping hole. Carter and his healing hands are not here to provide treatment, and neither of us are proper medics. So you are going to remove your jacket so I can properly apply this to the wound...or you are going to die. Which would you prefer?"
The red-headed Mucallin was quiet, as if honestly considering the two options as equal. Then he sighed, muttered "only if you promise not to tell anyone else" and began pulling off his jacket.
Or rather, as Summer soon discovered, her jacket.
The silver-eyed huntress watched as the woman across from her cast off the sopping wet jacket to reveal well-toned muscles on a distinctly female frame, as well as layers of white cloth strips to conceal and compress her more womanly features. The female soldier noticeably breathed a lot more easily once the bindings were loosened, but pain shot across her torso as she clutched a bloodied, burnt wound. Summer tore her gaze away from the abs and chest and immediately got to work on spraying the Scottish woman's injury, watching as the infected scab receded and the hole slowly started to close in on itself.
The woman sighed in relief, pulling the hair tie from her ponytail and letting long, soaked red curls fall freely, as Summer gingerly inspected the wound. "Does it still hurt?"
"A wee bit," she answered, her voice no longer sounding as raspy or forced, "Not as much, though. Thanks, lass."
Summer nodded, pulling back and scooting closer to the sword serving as a portable space heater. "Of course. Though I think...reintroductions are in order, miss…"
"You can keep calling me 'Jack' if you'd like," she said with a breathy chuckle as she joined Summer by the hot blade. "Never was fond of the name mum gave me. Jaqueline Mucallin...a pretty name, to be sure, for some floofy princess. Not for a rough and tumble lass like myself."
"I see...and what about Alfred? Is he a woman in disguise too?"
Jack let out an unladylike snort. "If he was, he's been doing a wicked job of hidin' it for ten years or so. He's me husband."
Summer chuckled. "A husband and wife duo fighting aliens together. That's so...romantic."
The smile on Jack's face shone brighter than the glowing Muton sword she curled up by. "Glad ye think so, lass." Then she frowned. "Though I reckon not many people would feel the same…"
The homeless huntress raised an eyebrow. "How do you know? Has anyone told you as much? Who all knows?"
"Faulke knows, obviously," said Jack. "Reckon he wouldn't let me fight otherwise. And the medics and doctors probably know - kinda hard to hide my knockers when I'm getting patched back up." She pointed to her now-loose chest, which proudly sported breasts of modest size. "Pretty sure most of the lads on Strike Five know, or at least are on the verge of figgerin it out. Beyond that, no idea. And I'd rather keep it that way, I would."
"But why?" Summer had confusion written all over her face. "Why hide who you really are? I know the Bureau almost exclusively employs men as Agents, but clearly they don't have a problem with women serving if they show they can fight. Just look at me and Weaver."
"Aye, but you're a special case, lass," Jack said with a chuckle. "Most of us aren't the sort to swing off a platform and crash into an enemy squad with nothing but a pointed stick. I'm a good fighter, damn good with the blade like all Mucallins, but even I'm not at that level. Not yet, at least. And Weaver...from what I understand, she had to fight for the chance to be an agent. Cause in most cases, it's not the lack of skill that's keeping lasses off the roster. It's...a lot of things."
Jack frowned, staring into the red glow of Wandering Thorn for a while in silence. Summer waited for her to speak again.
"I dunno how much you remember, lass...but you ever been to Scotland?"
Summer shook her head. "Can't say I have, no."
"Didn't think so. Wanted to see. It's a lovely place. Open skies and plains and mountains and lochs as far as the eye can see. And despite how many people are living there, there's still a lot of folks who belong to big families. Old families, with roots and bloodlines that go all the way back to the days of swords and horses. These families, these clans, they try to keep the old ways alive. A lot of them favor the lads, and how big and strong they are. But there are some, like mine, who see the strength and power in both the lads and the lasses."
Jack looked up. "For as long as I can remember, Clan Mucallin's been training kids to grow up into warriors, no matter what's between their legs. My mum, my grandmum, and her mum before her...they were all amazing, fierce, and strong. Everything I ever aspired to be when I was a wee little lass. So imagine my shock when I go to a recruiting center to do my part...only to be turned away from the infantry because o' my lady parts."
"But you clearly have soldier training," said Summer, "and talent. So how'd you get in?"
"Had to have a cousin pull some strings," said Jack with a darkened expression. "Forge some documents to get me past the screening process, request a family friend as an on-site doctor who'd treat me exclusively. All I had to do was cut my hair, bind up my chest, and pretend to be a lad for however long I was in the military. I fooled the lot of them. But not Alfred. Called himself 'Sir Alfred Carlyle' when we first met. He was too clever to be fooled. We got on pretty well - so well, in fact, that we ended up marrying soon as our tour of duty was done. After that, we went on another tour with a new unit, but...it just became easier to introduce ourselves as the 'Mucallin brothers' than to try to explain the situation. And that's how it's been for about ten years now."
She sighed. "Boys have...always had an odd idea in their head. When people go to war, it's always the men that are called, while the women get left behind. Sure, I can understand why on a biological level - women are the ones that can have the babies, the men go off to keep them safe so they can keep popping out the wee little ones back home. But say a lass can't do that, or doesn't want to, and wants to make a difference by fighting alongside the lads? Well, that's just too bloody bad, she gets told to go home and cook with the rest of the girls."
Summer shook her head. "That sounds…"
"Awful? Unfair? Prejudiced?" Jack curled up a little tighter. "Aye. It's all those things and more. Everytime we ask to fight, we get told some new excuse. The Bureau might be fighting a global threat, but it's still an American program. And Americans are really picky about who gets to fight their wars."
"Well...maybe we can change that."
Jack looked up at Summer, whose silver eyes seemed to shimmer in the crimson light.
"You said it yourself, Weaver and I are special cases. But so are you. Look at yourself. A warrior from an old family, a woman who knows all about warfare, combat, and knows her way around heavy weaponry. You kept pace with the rest of us out there, when we were under heavy fire, and you barely broke a sweat. And that was with your upper torso in what's basically a vice grip. You can probably do so much more once you're actually able to breathe properly."
The Mucallin woman cracked a small smile as Summer continued.
"We're fighting a war for survival, yes, but we're also fighting to change the world, not just save it. So maybe, when history looks back on us, and the role we played in this war - if it ever does - they won't see the fact that women openly fought as a desperate measure. Maybe they'll instead see it as two girls taking their first steps to become equals to their fellow agents in every way, shedding the traditions of the past to make new ones for the future. Doesn't that sound like something a Mucallin would do?"
Green eyes stared back into silver for a moment, then looked down at the glowing muton blade in the ground, lost in thought. Eventually, a small smile crept up on Jack's face, and she stood back up and pulled her (somewhat dried) jacket back on.
"Aye. That it does. But maybe we should be finding a way out of this mess we're in first."
Summer nodded with a smile, then picked up Wandering Thorn from its resting spot, using it like a torch to shine red light through the cave entrance. She poked her head out, craning her neck to try to get a glimpse of the alien platform above.
To her surprise, the sound of gunfire and lasers discharging echoed across the surface of the lake like rain in the night. She wasn't sure how long she and Jack had been down in the cave, but it must have been anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour. If the rest of their Strike Teams were still up there, then that meant they hadn't managed to make any progress except stay alive. Which, considering the odds, was an impressive feat in and of itself.
"Sounds like the fight's still on," she reported, "If we hurry back, we can get up there and -"
"Hold up a tick, lass. Something's off about this cave here…"
Summer turned to see Jack examining the back wall, running one hand over the stonework and knocking with the other. "What do you mean? It's a cave."
"To your eyes, maybe," replied Jack, "but I spent my days as a wee lass exploring the caves around and in Scottish lochs. Ye can tell when the water carves at the stone to make an opening - the surface is all grainy and rough, like running a hand over a pimply babe's bum. This feels too smooth, too soft...this wasn't made by Nature's hands, nor by man's."
"So what are you saying?" Summer asked inquisitively, "The Outsiders made this cave?"
"Aye. They must have."
"Why? For what reason?"
Jack looked back and grinned as she drew back her Venn Brace, the tip sparkling with electricity.
"Dunno, lass. Let's find out!"
Before Summer could stop her, the Commando had driven her fist through the wall of stone. Only it wasn't made of stone at all - it was instead constructed of thin steel painted to look like stone, and the strength of the Venn Brace gave the Scottish highlander all the power she needed to punch a hole through it as though it was made of wet tissue paper. With a few grunts of exertion, Jack tore away more of the alien alloy and aimed her light into the cave within the cave, revealing what appeared to be a river of water flowing straight up along the back wall of a small Outsider enclosure.
The huntress let out a low whistle as she stepped into the room, nodding to Jack in approval. "Fascinating…" she said as she brushed her fingertips against the rushing, rising water, "This must be how they're draining the lake. Kinetic barriers form zero-contact, frictionless pathways that keep the rushing water from spilling out, and elerium anti-gravity generators pump the water up the legs of the platform. Interesting."
"I cannae read any of their writing," said the Mucallin as her fingers traced a nearby diagram, "but it looks like these pipes go all the way to the top o' the tower. Maybe there's a tank of some kind that their ships can come and pick up?"
"Possibly. At any rate, that's gotta be where the Command Room is," finished Summer. "And if the battle's still going on, then odds are the Field Commander hasn't left his lofty perch."
"Right coward he'd be in that case," growled Jack, shaking her head. "Reckon someone ought to go up there and finish the job, cause the boys ain't gonna punch through anytime soon."
The two women looked back at each other, and grinned as silver stared into green.
"How long can you hold your breath when you're not in shock from getting shot?"
"Four minutes, easy. And you? How good of a swimmer are you when you're not carrying my useless arse?"
"A damn good one. Take a deep breath - we're gonna need it."
"Right then, Summer. Ready when you are."
So after a moment of gathering up their gear (and stowing their radios into their waterproof field packs) and breathing in and out slowly, Summer took Jack's hand as they stepped into the floating pipe.
The water this time around wasn't dark, due to the constant light trickling in from the glowing walls, but it was just as cold. Still, Summer kept her breath locked firmly in her lungs, looking over at Jack to confirm she was okay. The Mucallin lady gave a nod and a smirk as they ascended in the current, her red hair floating around her like fire in the water.
The constant rushing did most of the work for them, sending them up the pipe as if they were part of the lake water being transported. Floors and doorways flew past the women in the blink of an eye, leaving them with a dizzying sense of vertigo as they rose higher and higher. It faded after a moment of adjustment, however, and soon the rest of the trip to the top was spent in anticipation.
As they rode the water to the top, Summer's mind wandered, and she suddenly began having second thoughts. What if there was some kind of alien filtration system that vaporized them as they ascended? Or what if the water was actually being pulled in by a giant fan that was waiting to crush them at the end? Or what if they ran out of air on the way up and drowned before they could reach the command post? Could they risk poking their face out to get a quick breath, or would that tip the balance too much and result in a deadly fall?
A million questions raced through Summer's air-starved mind as her chest began to ache, her throat itching to release the tension and breathe again. As if Jack could sense her uncertainty, though, her hand squeezed Summer's tightly, and her smile, though strained, was still as confident as ever.
Everything will be alright, her eyes seemed to say. Just hold out a little longer.
Summer returned the smile as best she could, squeezing her fingers tighter and closing her eyes.
A sudden downward turn jolted her sense of balance, and told her that they were close. Sure enough, the pipe flowed into a small reservoir that, mercifully, wasn't completely full to the top yet. After being dumped into the tank like they'd just exited the world's weirdest water slide, Summer and Jack kicked back to the surface, where a well-deserved breath of fresh air awaited them.
"Pfffhahahaha!" Jack giggled, spitting water and wet locks of red hair out of her mouth as they treaded water. "Well, that was refreshing! Much more fun than just a day at the beach, eh?"
Summer chuckled, splashing the Mucallin lightly. "I guess. Though I wouldn't have minded a few stops along the way to catch our breath." She looked down at the bottom of their little pool, noting a transparent window lining the lower wall. "If these tanks are linked to the command room in some way, then going down there might be our best bet. Unless you wanna splash around a bit first…"
"Ah, we can do that after we tear the Outsiders a new set of arseholes," said Jack with a grin. "Then we can go swimming properly."
"Sounds like a plan. Follow me."
After taking one more deep breath, Summer elegantly and effortlessly dove fifteen feet to the bottom of the reservoir, pressing her face to the glass and peering into the room beyond. Silver eyes stared intently past the bubbles that left her curled lips, taking note of the aliens standing around what looked like some kind of holographic image. Nothing too spectacular or difficult in terms of enemy forces - four regular rank-and-file Outsiders, a Muton, and two Drones. Summer had to guess that most of the heavy troops were already out in the field.
There was also an Outsider decked out in golden armor and adorned with a pure white cloak. If anything matched the description of the Field Commander, it had to be that.
Jack joined her side a moment later, looking to Summer quizzically. With a series of hand motions, the submerged Huntress pointed first to one of the regular Outsiders, then the drones. Then she pointed at the Muton, taking care to point to herself immediately after pointing it out. The Mucallin woman nodded, and swam back a bit to watch what happened next.
Summer drew Wandering Thorn and pulled the trigger near the handle, extending and activating the blade's laser mechanism in one motion. Clouds of bubbling steam hissed and erupted around her as the water boiled instantly upon coming into contact with the blade; she did her best to ignore the pain as she plunged the heated tip through the glass, dragging the sword upwards. The troops guarding the Field Commander reacted to the noise instantly, turning on the spot to see two women back-to-back, floating in the tank and glaring daggers at the Outsiders. After recovering from their momentary surprise, the aliens began firing on Summer and Jack...which turned out to be the wrong move, and exactly what the soldiers were counting on.
The barrier soon shattered as the weight of the water became too great for the fractured glass to hold. A rushing tidal wave surged from the newly-made opening, sweeping the aliens off their feet before spilling out of any and all openings in the Command Room. One unfortunate Outsider was swept away in the current; the rest managed to hold on, bringing their guns to face Summer and Jack once the water settled.
But by then, the women were already on the move.
Wandering Thorn lashed out in arcing, sweeping crimson slashes, separating Muton hands from forearms and a Muton head from what used to be its neck. An Outsider turned its Laser SMG on Summer, but Jack crashed into it with a mighty yell, grappling for control of the gun as the trooper's allies fired into its back. The drones started to move to flank the opponents, but two well-aimed shots from a "borrowed" Scatter Blaster dropped them out of the air, fizzling and sparking as they fell to the ground.
Summer cast aside the now-empty shotgun, before grabbing the dueling blade from the Muton's belt. "Catch!" she shouted, tossing the collapsed sword to her fellow fighting female. Jack grabbed the weapon by the handle with a grin, extending the blade and using it to finish off her opponent before bringing up the Laser SMG, turning its rapid fire on the two remaining Outsiders and cutting them down in a haze of red bolts.
The Field Commander snarled at Summer and Jack, drawing its own sword and igniting the glowing red blade with a hiss.
Jack looked at Summer, who looked back. The two women shared an unimpressed, almost bored glance, before nodding wordlessly and charging at the last opponent.
The ensuing duel was fast and brief. To the alien officer's credit it put up a good fight, with a firm handle on blocking, countering, and parrying. But it simply couldn't hold a candle to the Infiltrator; compared to that duelist, the cornered Outsider may as well have been a child with a training sword. This gap in skill was compounded by the fact that there were two opponents to juggle, as Summer and Jack seemingly danced and flowed around it in synchronized strikes.
The Mucallin woman wasn't as fast as the homeless huntress, but she was strong. Her series of blows nearly knocked the blade out of the Field Commander's grip, and she regularly mixed up her traditional sword strokes with disorienting punches and kicks. Her ferocity and aggression was actually what netted Jack the killing blow - when Summer left a burning gash on the officer's side, she followed it up with a pommel strike that knocked it over, finishing the fight with a blazing decapitating slash.
Summer and Jack stood there for a moment longer, panting and suddenly aware of how heavy their soaked clothes felt. Eventually, the silver-eyed woman looked to her friend, and smiled.
"Hey. Nice work." She stowed Wandering Thorn back on her hip, and extended a hand.
Jack chuckled breathily, doing the same and pulling on Summer's hand to deliver a one-armed hug and shoulder bump. "Aye. You're a mighty fine warrior yerself, lass. You'd make a fine Mucallin, you would."
Summer chuckled as well, pulling Jack in for a proper hug, which she was more than happy to return. Eventually, they pulled away, and started reaching into their packs as if they had the same thought.
"Reckon these things have dried out yet?"
"I'd think so. Let's see if we can hear what the boys are saying out there."
So after fiddling with the dried radios, they eventually picked up on the confused chatter of the rest of their squad.
" - damndest thing, Bravo-Zero. All the bloody Outsiders just seized up and started foaming at the mouth."
"Interesting...Whiskey-Three, can you confirm Lima-Five's observation?"
"That I can, sir. All the Sectoids and Mutons we've spent the last hour fighting just jumped into the lake. And I'm pretty sure they don't know how to swim."
"Hmm...any idea what could have caused this?"
"I might have an idea," Summer said into the receiver with a barely concealed smile.
There was total silence on the other end, before Carter found his voice first.
"Sierra-Three! You're...alive?"
"Sorry to disappoint, Whiskey."
"What about Juliet-Five?" A Scottish voice asked. "Is she -"
"Aye, that I am," answered Jack with a smile of her own.
Summer could practically hear relieved weeping fill the static. "Spirits above...I thought I'd lost you…"
"You nearly did," said Jack, her smile faltering a bit. "I honestly thought I was ready to join with me ancestors." The smile returned. "But Sierra-Three here fished me out of the pond, she did, and patched me back up in a cave. I owe her my life twice over now."
"I'd do it again in a heartbeat, Juliett-Five." Summer reached over and gave Jack's hand a squeeze.
"Where are you two now?"
"In the Command room," said Summer. "That cave turned out to house a hidden backdoor for one of their water collection systems. We followed it right to the top, and neutralized the Field Commander."
"That would explain why the Zudjari reacted like they did," mused Shen. "Whiskey-Zero has a hypothesis that their cranial implants link them not only to Mosaic, but to each other. So perhaps killing the Field Commander triggered some kind of feedback that activated the killswitch...it's certainly the most logical explanation, as horrifying as it may be."
"We'll look into it when we send a dispatch team for dismantling and recovery purposes, and to return the stolen lake water," said Faulke plainly. "For now, though, your work is done. Regroup at the base level, and the Skyrangers will pick you up and bring you home. Good work everyone. Vigilo Confido."
"Thanks Bravo-Zero," finished Summer, "Sierra-Three, over and out." She clipped her radio back onto her belt, and looked around. "There's that lift Shen mentioned. Ready to head back?"
"Not quite yet, lass. There's something else I gotta do."
Summer watched as Jack turned to face her back towards her, removing her pack and working to unbutton her soaked jacket. Once it was free she pulled it down to her elbows, revealing the bare muscular skin on her shoulders and upper back as well as a mess of white cloth straps tied haphazardly to hold and shape the chest on the other side. Right now the linen weave was halfway between loose and tight, as if it embodied the metaphysical midpoint between the man Jack pretended to be and the woman she truly was.
"Oh, right, your chest bindings," said Summer, already moving to stand behind Jack. "Did you want me to tighten them back up for you?"
Jack shook her head. "Nay. I want you to cut them."
Summer smiled, but raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Once the secret's out, there's no going back."
"I'm sure," said the Mucallin woman. "I thought about what you said, and you're right. You and Weaver proved that you were strong enough to keep up with the lads. And now, so have I. I've been hiding who I am for more than ten years now, but not anymore. It's time for the world to see Jack and Alfred Mucallin for who they really are - not as brothers in arms, but as wife and husband on the battlefield. You helped me see that...so I want you to be the one to set me loose. Fer good, this time."
Pride swelled within the silver-eyed huntress as she reached for a knife in her boot and cut the knot with a single tug, the cloths falling away to the ground. Then she ran her hands over the bare skin, working to smooth out the marks that the bindings had left after years of digging into Jack's flesh as the Mucallin woman moaned in relief.
"You're a brave woman, Jaqueline Mucallin," intoned Summer as she worked her hands up to the shoulders, "I'm honored that I got to fight alongside you today."
"Ah, the honor's all mine, it is," chuckled Jack as she nuzzled a cheek against Summer's knuckles. Then she stepped away to refasten her jacket, making no effort to hide the sudden change in shape. "Shall we go?"
Summer took Jack's hand as they stepped into the lift, this one full of breathable air. "Yes, let's."
The homeless Huntress felt a glow in her chest as she and her new sister-in-arms took an anti-gravity lift back to the ground floor. It only brightened as the doors opened to reveal the other ten members of the assault team standing around, bloodied and bruised but alive. And it reached a critical mass when the other redhead from Strike Five practically ran at his drenched, waterlogged wife, sweeping her up into a deep, grateful, unashamed kiss.
Dawson's smart remark died in his throat as the men saw Jack for who she really was. Shen smiled warmly. Adam just looked confused. Knox did his best to look annoyed, but he eventually cracked a small smile. The rest of Strike Five - Loveday, Diaz, Max, even grumpy old Briggs - applauded and nodded in approval.
And Carter went over to Summer and clasped a hand on her shoulder, the two of them sharing a meaningful stare.
"You gave us all one hell of a scare," growled Carter. "You realize that, right?"
Summer chuckled. "Wouldn't be the first time. Probably won't be the last, either."
He furrowed his brow, adjusting his hat. "Yeah, well, try not to make a habit out of it. Seeing you get carved up by that Infiltrator was bad enough. I wasn't looking forward to telling Faulke we lost one of our best agents cause you forgot how to swim."
She smiled wryly, brushing a sopping wet lock of hair behind her ear. "Careful there, Mister Carter. It almost sounded like you were actually worried about me for a moment there."
Carter blinked twice, then sighed. "Yeah, well...maybe I was. You got a problem with that?"
"No sir," hummed Summer as her hands clasped Carter's for a moment. "None whatsoever."
The leaders of Strike Three pulled away after a moment of contact, content to watch the pair previously known as the "Mucallin brothers" hug and kiss even as the Skyrangers flew in low.
Jaqueline Mucallin had been brave enough to reveal her secret to the world.
Maybe someday, Summer would feel brave enough to do the same.
A/N: Special thanks to Gunfighter 1-1 on Discord, whose portrayal of the character Martha Mucallin on the REMCOM RP server inspired Jack and Alfred Mucallin in this story. You rock, buddy!
Anyways, thanks for joining me for our first ever double feature! The next few chapters will be dealing with "Signal From Beyond", the next major story mission in The Bureau: XCOM Declassified. I'll need to research and figure out how to adapt that level into a narrative story, so it might be a while until the next update. Until then, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed yourselves, and keep being awesome! I'll see you guys next time!
