A grim aura clung to Strike Three as they stepped off the Skyranger, landing softly amidst the fields of corn as the sun dipped out of sight. DaSilva's power pack weighed heavily on Summer's shoulders and back, loaded with explosive charges and comprehensive notes and plans of alien technology. She knew why it felt so heavy, and it had nothing to do with its contents and everything to do with the loss of its former owner. She couldn't see the flaming wreckage of the resulting fireball from here, but she had felt it when it happened - as the explosive shockwave hit her ears, the bottom of her heart fell out.
She had plenty more tears to cry over the death of Nico DaSilva, but she would have to save them for later.
The mission wasn't over yet.
A rustle in the cornfield snapped her out of her thousand-yard-stare, and she almost raised her gun in preparation for hostile forces. But the person approaching her was anything but hostile - indeed, the hand from Shen that clasped her shoulder with empathetic eyes and an attempt at a reassuring smile was enough to warm the void of despair, if only for a little while.
The rest of the second Strike Team came into visual range shortly thereafter and merged with hers. Weaver quietly ordered Van Doorn and Bradford to keep watch while she went to speak to Carter, who ordered Knox and Ryan to do the same. Dawson chose to use the downtime to draw more shield spheres from his pack to replace the ones he'd used earlier, while Adam's SCOPE switched visual frequencies to track the aliens inside the invisibility domes that hid the shipyard and its UFOs within the crop circles. Finally, Vahlen stayed glued to Weir's side as the good doctor joined Carter and Weaver to quickly discuss strategy; after a moment of silent comfort, Shen and Summer moved to join them.
Weaver had a pained expression as she regarded the leadership of the second strike team, looking over at Summer. "Carte...Whiskey told me that you were there when Nico made his choice. Even tried to stop him. That couldn't have been easy."
Under ordinary circumstances, Summer would have just been completely baffled by the normally-stoic Weaver extending a genuine human emotion - towards her, no less. But these weren't ordinary circumstances, so all Summer could do was give a tired nod.
"It...wasn't," she admitted quietly, "But...thank you for your concern. And I'm sorry I couldn't talk him out of it…"
Weaver gave approximately one-sixteenth of a reassuring smile, which vanished when she shook her head. "It's not your fault. You could have stood there for a thousand years and he'd still never change his mind. He was...impulsive, reckless. Stubborn. Really stubborn. But...he was a good man. And a damn good Agent. This war's gonna be harder without him."
Carter nodded in agreement. "We'll raise a glass to him once we get back home with everyone else safe and sound," he said in a low rumble. "But only after we blow this Outsider shipyard to Kingdom Come."
"With the Phase Plotter in hand as we make our escape," added Weir, half-moon glasses reflecting the stars peeking out of the twilight sky. He cast his soft gaze on Summer. "You have his pack, and with it, his plans. May I have them, please?"
Although she knew the blueprints and reports in her pack would do more good with the Chief of Engineering than it would with her, she was still reluctant to hand them over. It felt like his last will and testament, his final gift to the world and the last scrap of proof that Nico DaSilva had ever existed. Nevertheless, she fished the bundle of papers from one of the many folds of the power pack, clutching them tightly as she held the stack outwards. Weir reached out and, after clasping Summer's hands with his own for a moment, took the plans for himself. He began leafing through them, gazing at them with a pensive stare.
"Thank you, dear," he said quietly. In a slightly louder tone of voice, he added, "I'll give these a better look once we're inside the Command Ship. Wouldn't be very fair to hold up the squad so I could take a quick reading break."
"Sounds like a plan." Carter nodded once more, then turned to Adam. "What do you see?"
"Everything," muttered the Recon Agent tersely. "DaSilva wasn't kidding - this place is crawling with every kind of alien under the sun. Outsiders, Sectoids, Mutons, Sleepwalkers...you name it, this place has it in droves. The good news is that it looks like his distraction worked - most of the patrols are moving to the east edge to fortify defenses and shore up the holes the explosion punched in their walls. Probably expecting another attack from that direction, if I had to guess."
"Good thing we're coming in on the west side, then," said Carter. "Any easy paths to the Command ship?"
"Can't see from here," reported Adam. "But, there's an outpost tower right up ahead that'll give me a clear vantage point over the rest of the compound, though. Got some token guards, but nothing too dangerous. Just six basic Outsiders."
"Then it sounds like our first priority is to take that tower," declared Weaver as she drew a suppressed pistol off her hip. "Whiskey, pick two people on your team for a stealth takedown. Victor, Bravo, you two are with me. Everyone else, stand by in case we need reinforcements."
Bradford and Weir both nodded, forming up behind Weaver. Before the Skyranger had dropped both teams off for the insertion, Weaver had made the call that using numbers to distinguish between operatives with identical callsigns would be cumbersome and take too much time. So her team had elected to use different letters from the NATO phonetic alphabet to identify themselves over comms, either taking the first letter of their last or middle name instead of their first. So Steve Bradford went from "Sierra-One" to simply "Bravo", Weir chose to go by "Victor" (short for VIP), and Raymond Shen went from "Romeo-One" to "Delta". As for Weaver, she elected to go by "November." Summer wasn't sure if she chose that because her middle name actually started with the letter N, or if she was honoring DaSilva in her own way by taking on his callsign.
"Alpha, Sierra, with me," growled Carter quietly. "We do this quick and quiet - the last thing we want is the whole compound knowing we're here. So no fancy sword shenanigans yet."
Adam nodded as he toggled his cloaking module, while Summer drew her alloy-infused knives from her boots. Satisfied, Carter looked to Doctor Weir, who was checking over his M1903 with a critical eye.
"You sure you know how to use that thing, doc?" he asked in a low rumble.
"Hey, I'll have you know I fought in the Pacific, Whiskey," said Weir with a small smile as he screwed a suppressor over the barrel. "I was with the 9th at the liberation of Borneo, and I wasn't just there for fun. I know my way around a longarm, so don't you worry about me. Just worry about taking out that first patrol around the tower."
"Good to know. Ready on your mark, November."
Weaver waved two fingers forward, and half the squad moved silently through the invisibility dome that covered the shipyard. The compound matched the usual Outsider architecture - steel gray walls with glowing blue panel lines, jagged walls and tubes that seemed to run into the very earth, and thin metal plates that formed everything from stairways to chest-high walls. This particular structure seemed to be a landing pad of some sort, except this one didn't have a UFO docked. That didn't mean it was defenseless, however, as three pairs of Outsiders watched for the unknown: two looking to the left, two to the right, and two watching from atop the tower Adam had pointed out.
Without a single word and without any sort of light, the Agents went to work.
Weir opened up with a muted crack from his rifle that dropped an Outsider like a sack of dead meat, and when its partner turned to inspect the body, Carter moved up to snap its neck from behind. Summer crept up behind the third Outsider and drove both knives into its gullet, while Bradford put its partner into a deathly chokehold magnified by the strength of his Venn Brace. A shadowy figure ascended the tower's stairs and materialized into Adam just before he slit the most alert Outsider's throat; the quiet sound of a forceful pistol whip and two silenced shots signaled the end of Weaver's execution as well.
"Patrol neutralized," whispered Carter over the radios, "How's the view, Alpha?"
"Pretty much perfect," reported the sniper, "Got a clear visual on the Command Ship docked in the middle. Gimme a few to map out the best routes."
"Keep us posted. In the meantime, the rest of the team better get here. We'll use this tower as our exfil point."
Summer had just finished wiping the alien blood off her knives when she heard the soft footfalls of the other six agents - two Supports, one Engineer, and three Commandos - approaching to secure the perimeter around the tower. Weaver descended gracefully down the winding stairs back to ground, while Carter and Bradford dragged the alien corpses into a storage room at the base of the alien building. Weir kept his rifle at the ready, scanning for additional patrols until Adam finally delivered his findings in a hushed whisper over the radios.
"Got three paths of least resistance that'll take you to the Command Ship. They're long and winding, though - some of the X-rays at the front have broken back off to resume their patrols, and some of them didn't even move when the explosions went off. There's Sleepwalkers, too - not enough to form a horde, but enough to probably serve as some kind of alert system."
"It'll be too risky if we all move together in one big group," observed Weaver. "Might be best to split up into three groups, and have each team take one path with Alpha guiding them."
"Was just thinking that, actually," said Carter with another nod. "I'm thinking I take Sierra and Kilo, while you go with Bravo and Golf. Victor can go with Hotel and Delta - something tells me those two will be glued to the doc's hip no matter what."
Weir nodded. "You would be correct in that assumption. And I assume that Van Doorn and Steel - sorry, Lima and Romeo - will stay here to protect Alpha?"
"And our extraction point, yes," affirmed Carter.
"Works for me," rumbled Van Doorn quietly. "With the amount of gear I've got, I'd just slow the other teams down. Probably the same with Romeo, too."
Ryan nodded, quivering hands tightening his grip to the gatling laser until his knuckles went white. Summer had to resist the urge to sigh - Ryan Steel had developed a reputation within the Bureau for his nerves of steel, for being absolutely fearless on and off the battlefield. Some stories even mentioned how he could be pinned down by enemy fire with Outsider firing squads on either side and the most reaction he'd give would be an annoyed glance. But seeing half his strike team die in one day, seeing the corpses of two members and being unable to prevent the noble sacrifice of his squad leader, had eroded those nerves of steel until they resembled little more than frayed copper wire. Summer wasn't sure if Carter's decision to have the trembling Commando defend Adam's sniper perch was a purely tactical one, or if it was his way of giving the young man some time to process what had happened.
She supposed she'd have to ask later, as the squad was already splitting up. Giving Ryan's shoulder a gentle squeeze, she fell in alongside Carter and Knox as they attached suppressors to their pistols.
"Let me take point while we're sneakin' around," growled Knox quietly. "I used to be an Army scout back during the Korean War, I know how to stay quiet and move without being seen."
Carter gave a nod to the grizzled war veteran, who led him and Summer down one of the paths Adam had pointed out. The homeless huntress caught one more glimpse of Dawson and Shen before they went with their teams, slipping into the shadows of the rapidly-approaching night. With a series of hand signals, Carter ordered his team to turn the volumes on their radios down just low enough that only they could hear the occasional double or triple-clicks coming from the hidden Recon Agent, who dutifully tracked each team's progress with his SCOPE as well as the patrols that threatened to expose them. No one bothered with words, nor could they afford to speak; aside from Adam's non-verval guidance, there was complete radio silence.
True to his word, Knox expertly led Summer and Carter through winding fields of corn, past alien barracks, and under the spotlights of watchtowers. Often he would spot enemy patrols seconds before Adam warned them, raising a fist to halt and use the shadows as cover. Sometimes, for the smaller patrols, he would have the pair perform silent takedowns and hide the bodies, keeping watch for additional danger while Summer and Carter did the dirty deed. Other times the patrols would be larger, and he would either have them hold and wait for them to pass, or find an alternate route that let them avoid their gaze. Summer had to admit, the old soldier's senses were sharper than those of most people half his age - she briefly found herself wondering if he had a set of Faunus ears hidden in his gray-black hair, before reminding herself that the human-animal hybrids didn't exist in this world.
The path through the darkness was long, arduous, and most of all, tedious. The lights on their Venn Braces had to be turned off to avoid giving away their position, so much of their time was spent hiding in the shadows. Straying too close to the alien light sources carried a risk of being spotted, but straying too far away made it all the more likely to get lost. It was a delicate balancing act of staying close enough to the illuminating panels to see the aliens, but far enough away that the aliens couldn't see them. And as the minutes dragged on, Summer couldn't help but let her part of her mind wander.
She thought back to how Strike Three had all reacted to the news about DaSilva's plan. Ryan had fought just short of tooth and nail to go with his squad leader on his suicide mission, and likely would have actually assaulted someone if Dawson hadn't stuck him with the sedative. Knox's teeth were clenched hard enough that Summer was worried about his jaw muscles, while Adam's usual twitchiness and nerves seemed to vanish in an instant. Even Dawson had lost his smile, and she noticed that he hadn't so much as cracked a joke or a grin in the last hour or so. It was clear to her that, even though they may not have been best friends with DaSilva, everyone still respected and liked him well enough that losing him was a huge blow to morale.
And for those that were friends with him…
Summer kept an eye on Carter as they advanced, trying to get a read on his body language and facial expressions even when they were concealed in the dark. His motions were stiff and unnatural, his right hand was constantly balled into a fist, and his face was locked into a near-permanent scowl. It was almost like he was at war with himself, angry and sad at the loss of his friend while also being frustrated that he couldn't just bury those emotions and focus on the mission. She wanted to say something, anything, to help him calm his nerves, but even her breaths had to be tightly controlled to avoid making too much noise.
Then again...maybe she didn't need to say anything.
The next time Knox ordered the squad to halt and wait out a pair of Mutons on patrol, Summer took a chance and reached forward, grasping Carter's hand in hers and squeezing gently. She expected the squad leader to shoot her a withering glare and yank his hand back, or maybe even shake his head and order her to let go of her own volition. What she didn't expect was for him to wrap calloused fingers around her hand, returning the gesture with just as much supportive affection. He didn't even seem to realize he was doing it; he kept his eyes locked forward, watching and waiting for the patrol to do something. Fighting the urge to laugh even a little, Summer's other hand began tracing the back of Carter's wrist, soft silk gliding against scarred steel.
It was a warm, meaningful gesture, and it ended as soon as the Mutons turned on the spot and went back the way they came. Still, the way Carter's shoulders seemed a little looser as they moved once more told Summer that the human connection had done its job.
One of the last things DaSilva had asked of her was to be a friend to William Carter, to fill a role for the man that he no longer could.
Whether it was in the darkness of night or the darkness of despair, Summer Rose swore to herself that she would do exactly that.
The stars were out in full display by the time Carter's trio began to approach the Command Ship. The dim light of the full moon shone down on the massive gray-green alien battleship that lay inert in the field, towers and docking plugs built around it that fed into faintly-glowing wires ferrying its spare power into the rest of the compound. Circular when viewed from above and oval-shaped when seen from the side, it didn't look all that different from the decorations one might find in Henry's - if the decorative flying saucers were as big as the entire shop, of course.
Carter furrowed his brow as he scanned his surroundings, suppressed pistol drawn and ready to fire. He cast a glance at Knox, who had his knife drawn. Then he looked at Summer, who seemed utterly...entranced by the moon. He wasn't sure if she was lost in the throes of some forgotten memory, or if she was about to start tearing her clothes off and howl at the big silver orb in the sky.
Either way, he'd have to ask her later.
Weaver and Weir's teams arrived a few moments later, and a few quiet clicks from the radios confirmed that Adam and his guardian Commandos were still in the clear and that their tower was still locked down. With a nod, Carter made a series of hand gestures that roughly translated to "November and Victor with me, everyone else start planting the charges." The squad understood with nods of their own, converging on Summer as she passed out explosive charges while Carter, Weir, and Weaver stepped aboard an alien UFO for the first time in human history.
The interior of the Command Ship didn't look all that different from the aesthetics of the Outsider structures, but it was claustrophobically tight. Hallways just barely big enough for two people to pass through shoulder-to-shoulder and four-way intersections comprised most of the layout, and the chilled air and continual beeps and hisses made Carter wonder if he hadn't stepped onto the set of some science fiction television show with a generous set design budget. Most times the doors would open up into more hallways; sometimes they would open up into small rooms that had seats for turrets operators, control terminals for the primary cannon, and floor-to-ceiling Elerium reactors that hummed softly and cast pale green light on their surroundings. Weir consulted the notes DaSilva had left and cross-referenced them with his own studies of the ships, which served to guide them through the alien vessel. Carter and Weaver, meanwhile, kept their eyes peeled for any sudden movements, the former even toggling thermal vision on his SCOPE to check the rooms before they opened the doors.
So far, every single room was completely empty.
"I don't like this," whispered Weaver as she taped one of her own C4 charges onto yet another alien power supply, "It feels too easy. Like they're waiting to spring a trap on us."
Carter nodded, doing the same to a control panel. "Yeah. I'll admit, I expected more troops. Maybe they didn't think anyone would make it this far?"
"Perhaps." Weir secured one of his explosive charges to a second reactor with a mournful look. Then he grabbed a handful of Elerium crystal batteries, stuffing them into his power pack. "This should be the last of the reactor rooms, meaning Navigation should be just ahead. Whiskey, could you please scan with the SCOPE again, just to be sure?"
Carter was about to grumble about how the room was empty like all the others, when he noticed a dozen or so glowing figures standing at attention through the wall and door that divided the rooms. They all appeared to be standing around a small spinning cube - which gave off so much heat it almost appeared white on the SCOPE.
"Got twelve contacts in Navigation," whispered Carter, "along with what I'm pretty sure is the Phase Plotter."
"Knew it," growled Weaver.
"Interesting…" mused Weir. "they leave the rest of the ship unguarded, yet still garrison a force here just in case someone does come after the device. How do we want to handle this?"
Carter furrowed his brow, weighing his options and considering how best to approach the situation. They didn't have the numbers or the firepower to take them out one by one before the rest of the troops could sound the alarm, and they couldn't use explosives to thin out their ranks without damaging the delicate equipment inside. And he couldn't signal the rest of the squad to come in to assist, either - they were probably still setting the charges on the outside, and sending out a radio call could give away their location.
If only we had a way to stun most of them while we took them down individually, he thought, casting a glance down to his belt. But all of my grenades are the explosive kind, not the stunning kind. Unless…
"Hey, November," he said in a harsh whisper, "how many flashbangs have you got?"
Weaver looked down at her own grenade belt to check. "Enough. Why?"
"Pass one along to me and Victor, then join me on opposite sides of the door. We're gonna carpet the room in those things and catch the bastards completely unaware."
"Interesting idea," said Weaver. "But how are you gonna do that with the door closed? Soon as they catch sight of us, it won't matter how fast we throw the flashes."
"Leave that part to me," answered Carter. "I think I have a solution to that. Just be ready to act and grab the first guy that walks by you."
Weaver raised an eyebrow in concern, but nevertheless pulled a pair of cylindrical flashbangs off her belt and gave one each to Weir and Carter. Then after making sure her pistol was fully loaded with the suppressor screwed on tightly, she and the gray-hatted man pressed their backs to the wall against the doorway.
Carter tapped the side of his power pack twice, prompting the sleepy Silacoid within to poke its head out. "Alright Silas, you know what to do," he growled. "Get to it."
The little alien blob nodded, then slithered down his arm and leg until it landed gracefully on the floor. Weaver stared in shock and Weir watched in fascination as Silas approached the door and started scratching its surface and trilling loudly, like a sad little puppy trapped outside in the rain.
On the other side of the door, the Outsiders reacted immediately.
"Graa? Graa esk zaktu?"
"Eeska Ziilak? Gan'thu okt draum."
"Ziilak? Graa Ziilak? Noctram Ziilak aktrum."
"Gan'thu. Okt. Draum."
Carter blinked several times in comprehension. The language of the Outsiders sounded just as alien as it always had, but this time he could sense...meaning, intent behind the words. It didn't sound like complete gibberish, it sounded like… a conversation.
"What?" he mouthed to himself. "What was that? 'Is that a Silacoid? Open the door.' Silacoid? What Silacoid? We don't have Silacoids on board. 'Open...the...door…'"
Weaver glared at him with a confused expression, and even Silas tilted its head in curiosity. Carter shook his head to refocus his mind. The understanding probably came from the alien artifact, like all the other weird things he'd been experiencing lately. There would be time to figure it out later, when he wasn't deep in Outsider territory.
He came to his senses just in time for the door to hiss open, revealing a pair of Outsiders stepping out and staring down at the Silacoid. One of the Zudjari took a good long look at the little blob of corrosive nanomachines...before its eyes widened.
"Ziilak esk kraksaad! Kraksaad! Krak - hurgh!"
Its cries of alarm were swiftly silenced by Carter's hands reaching out for a neck snap, and the partner reacted just a hair too slow to avoid Weaver's knife slitting its throat. The navigation room exploded into a flurry of activity, but three flashbangs flew into the room and detonated in bursts of bright light and loud noise, overwhelming the senses of the alien troopers. No longer bothering with stealth, the Agents opened fire and swiftly eliminated each Outsider with well-aimed lasers and bullets, with Weir landing a killing headshot on the last soldier who stumbled his way over to the alarm panel.
All in all, it took about six seconds.
"Well done, you two," said Weir with a smile as he came over. "And of course, congratulations are in order for the little guy as well. Quite a clever ploy, if you don't mind me saying so."
Silas purred under the praise as it swirled back up Carter's leg and into his pack, while the man himself nodded. "Thanks. You weren't too bad yourself. Nice shot at the end there."
Weir smirked. "I told you I knew my way around a longarm."
"If you two are done chatting, we should move quickly," said Weaver with an annoyed scowl. "Whiskey, with me as we check the corners. Victor, move in after us, then do...whatever it is you need to do."
"Copy that, ma'am," said Weir with a nod.
Carter nodded as well, and the two squad leaders advanced to do a thorough sweep of the room, checking for any hostiles that might have survived the initial attack. After double-tapping what few Outsiders still clung to life, they signaled the doctor, who hurried into the center of the room and looked around with a pensive stare. A small "ah" noise escaped his lips as he approached a small transparent dome with a black box spinning on its corner inside, the device humming and whirring with unknown power. Weir pulled his mobile workstation out of his pack and opened it up, setting it on the flat surface around the dome before rummaging through his power pack for more items.
"You sure you know what you're doing, doc?" Carter asked as he watched Weir retrieve a set of cables, a glass tube filled with Elerium, and DaSilva's notes.
Weir chuckled. "No, sir. I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, and I'm simply making things up as I go along. Come on, William - do you really think I'd volunteer for field duty if I didn't have some semblance of an understanding of how the tech worked?"
"Fair enough, just making sure." Carter hemmed and hummed, then sighed. "So...how does this work? Give me the short version."
"Well, you remember that Mosaic implant we extracted from the Infiltrator?" Weir smiled as he started connecting the cables from his computer to the Elerium tube, then from the tube to his Venn Brace. "I'm using it to connect directly to the Command Ship's computer systems, which lets me access all of its functions. I suppose you could say that it's giving me a sort of 'back door' into the Outsider's psionic network."
"Psionic?" Carter raised an eyebrow. "The hell's that mean?"
"It's what the lab techs have started calling the signals that Mosaic sends and receives," explained the doctor as he clacked away on his alien keyboard. "It's shorthand for 'psycho-ionic wavelengths', and from our limited observations, it appears to be a new form of electromagnetic energy that is directly capable of affecting the minds of those that come in contact with it. So far, we've theorized that this 'Mosaic' that the Outsiders hold in such high regard is actually one massive network of such psionic energy, one concentrated and refined enough that it allows the instantaneous transmission of data, information, even memories between everyone connected. All the sources of advanced Outsider technology, including the Outsiders themselves, rely on this psionic network to transmit and parse data - all we have to do is tap into it using the recovered implant, using the Elerium as a connection point, and…"
The little tube of amber crystal began glowing an ominous green color, hovering slightly and casting its light over the entire room. A moment later, a similar glow began to emanate from within the navigation room, before it faded and darkness enveloped the UFO yet again.
"Success!" Weir smiled brightly. "We now have full discrete control of the Command Ship. Not only can we send commands to every other ship currently docked...we also have a rather nice reading light."
Carter tilted his head. "So...if we have complete control, then can't we just fly this thing out of here?"
"We could, in theory," said Weir. "We could also light up the Bureau's location with neon lights and broadcast to every Outsider in the galaxy exactly where we are, if we wanted to bring the full wrath of the Zudjari empire down on us. But obviously, we don't want that - we're trying to keep a somewhat low profile, and stealing a Command Ship, one of their most advanced aircraft, would be a great way of painting a target on all of humanity's backs."
At the lack of understanding on Carter's face, Weaver looked back at him. "Imagine if those cargo cults down in the Pacific managed to get their hands on one of our Jupiter missiles. How do you think Uncle Sam or Ivan would respond?"
Ah.
"I'm guessing...with overwhelming force," posited Carter.
"Exactly," said Weaver. "Imagine that, but worse. That's what the Outsiders might do if we steal a ship right under their noses."
"Whereas if we only steal part of a ship…" said Weir as he pored over the notes, pushing his glasses into place. "Well, it'll still provoke a response, but hopefully a less...extreme one. Now, I'll be glad to answer any other questions you may have once we're back at base - for now, I need to focus."
With one more nod, Carter reloaded his laser rifle and moved to collect the weapons of the fallen Outsiders. It was a good thing they'd managed to clear them all out with an alpha strike - these alien troops had more than just the standard red-tinted beam weapons. Judging from the emerald coloring on each gun and how differently they were shaped, he had to guess that these new rifles and pistols were of a higher grade than XCOM's current armaments, and he wasn't too interested in finding out what they could do to humans this deep in enemy territory. So collecting them and finding similar weapons was something he could focus on, something he could do while he waited for everyone else to finish their tasks.
And yet, as he raided alien weapons lockers for the treasures within, his mind kept wandering back to the strange understanding he suddenly had of the alien's language. He'd heard the aliens speak before, and there was one word they seemed to use exclusively around him - "kraksaad." At first, he just assumed it was some kind of slur, an insult against any human who dared to oppose them. But the fact that the aliens called only him that was...worrying.
More worryingly, he now understood the meaning of the word.
Puppet.
For some reason, the implication that he was some kind of proxy, some sort of slave to the whims of a higher being, gnawed away at him. He valued freedom above all else, not because he was particularly patriotic - America wasn't nearly as free as her devoted followers would have one believe - but because he believed that man's ability to choose and control his own fate, forge his own path, was what allowed humanity to rise to become the dominant species. That was why he understood DaSilva's choice immediately, as difficult as it was - rather than wait for the slow decay as his mind slipped further and further like other Sleepwalkers, he chose to die on his own terms and take control of his own destiny.
Nico DaSilva died to preserve and prolong his own sense of identity and freedom.
If the alien artifact kept transforming him, was William Carter eventually going to make the same choice?
"Whiskey, this is Sierra," came a soft whisper through his radio. "All charges have been planted and the squad's ready to exfiltrate. Just need the green light from you, Victor, and November."
At least he could count on Summer being there to pull his mind back.
"Copy that, Sierra," he growled into the radio. "Gonna check in with Victor now. What's the status of the tower team?"
"Still hidden and watching," reported Summer, "None of the patrols have wandered this way, according to them. We're in the clear...for now."
That was...odd. Surely something as valuable as a Command Ship would have more than just a token garrison protecting it? An empty UFO was one thing, but the fact that none of the Outsiders bothered to check in? Pride or not, there was no way they wouldn't at least know what was happening in their most powerful ship.
Or maybe they do already know, and they're prepping an ambush of their own.
Still, at least the teams were safe for the moment. That was more than Carter was foolish enough to hope for, at this rate.
"Acknowledged. Let me know if anything changes."
Summer affirmed the command on the other end and disconnected, allowing Carter to backtrack to the middle of Navigation and regroup with the doctor and Weaver.
"Sierra and the others have the charges set," he reported. "You just about done, doctor?"
"Almost," said Weir with a frown. "There's just...one problem."
Of course. "What?"
"There's a lot that I can do from this terminal without tipping off the other Outsiders on the Mosaic network," explained the doctor. "Shut down the engines of the docked UFOs, for example, or reroute the power. Unfortunately...opening the enclosure for the phase plotter is not one of those things."
Carter furrowed his brow. "Meaning that as soon as we open it up, every alien bastard in this shipyard is gonna know exactly where we are, and what we're trying to do."
"Precisely."
"There's a maintenance hatch that leads up to the top of the ship," explained Weaver as she glanced up, "so we have an easy way back outside. But once we have the phase plotter, they'll have us."
"So we'll have to do a fighting retreat, then."
Weaver nodded. "Just what I was thinking. Call it in."
With another nod, Carter switched his radio to squadwide comms, then clicked the button.
"Alright everyone, listen up. We're in position to grab the phase plotter, and the charges are all set. However, there's no way we're gonna be able to stay silent for the whole mission - once we nab this thing, every single Outsider's gonna know we're here, and swarm us like ants at a picnic. Victor can disable their UFOs before then, but everyone else needs to be able to fight and run at the same time. Head for the same spot we came in from - Alpha, Lima, and Romeo, I'll need you all to cover us while we make our escape. Skyrangers, I need you two right by the entrance and flying low, ready to pick us up and then fly away. Once we're out of range, we send the detonation signal, and wipe this whole damn thing off the face of the Earth. Understood?"
The other operatives were quiet for a moment, but eventually a chorus of agreements and affirmations sounded off.
"Alright then. Victor? Let's get what we came for."
Weir nodded solemnly, already stashing DaSilva's notes into his pack. With a few quick keystrokes, the doctor killed the power to the engines of all docked UFOs; with a few more, he sent the command to open the enclosure. The glass dome split in half with a hiss of steaming coolant as the cube within slowed down its frenetic rotation, eventually stopping its spin altogether as the platform elevated it out of its protective glass structure.
All at once, a shrill alarm pierced the silence, beeped four times, then stopped.
"Whiskey, grab the phase plotter if you please," said Weir as he unplugged the cables. "I need to repack my things."
Carter nodded and walked over to the cube, gingerly and gently lifting it by its corners in one hand. Its black surface was smooth and metallic, the cube was slightly heavier than it looked, and it was still slightly warm to the touch. Even after removing it from its mount, the phase plotter pulsed faintly with inner light, like a mechanical heartbeat that still pounded after being disconnected.
Is this thing...alive? He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer to that.
"Carter!" snapped Weaver, loading her rifle. "Observe it later, we have to move!"
After nodding again, Carter handed the all-important device to Weir, who gingerly put it in his pack. Then, with a telekinetic shove, the hatted man opened the maintenance hatch in the ceiling above them, yanking the collapsible ladder down to meet them.
"Ladies first."
Weaver glared at him, then immediately began climbing. Weir went next, huffing slightly as he pulled himself up. Finally, Carter adjusted his hat, made one more sweep of the room, then followed his squadmates up the maintenance shaft.
They made it about halfway up the ladder when Weir stopped suddenly.
Carter looked up in concern. "Doctor?"
Weir frowned. "Do you...hear that?"
The female agent ahead of him stopped in her tracks, glaring down. "Hear what? There's nothing."
Then Weaver narrowed her eyes, furrowing her brow. "Wait...nothing? We should at least be hearing lasers and gunfire by now. What the hell is going on out there?"
As if to answer, the radio on Carter's hip crackled to life.
"Carter…" gasped Summer. "You, Weaver, and Weir have gotta get out here and see this…"
Hearing the normally-unflappable Summer Rose sound utterly terrified made the three of them redouble their climbing efforts, eventually pulling themselves atop the Command Ship. When they were all on the roof, they looked over the edge to see…
"...holy shit," breathed Carter.
...an entire horde of shambling Sleepwalkers rising up out of the dirt, shaking off soil and sagging their shoulders as they staggered to their feet. Some of them were missing arms and hands, more than a few rose up with disfigured faces or gaping holes where their jaws used to be, and there were even some who crawled along the ground to compensate for lost legs. No matter how distinct each brainwashed man, woman, and child may have looked up close, their features all blended together into a sea of pallid skin and unwashed, tattered clothes, glowing red eyes that perpetually cried tar-black tears and stared without a trace of higher thought.
"There's gotta be thousands of them," muttered Carter with gritted teeth. "But where did they all come from? We didn't see nearly this many when we touched down in Roswell."
"DaSilva mentioned that the entire town was infected, correct?" Weir said with a frown. "Well...it appears we've found the Sleepwalkers you didn't encounter. The ones who were overworked to the point of complete and total exhaustion, the ones whose bodies were simply trodden over by the next wave of disposable workers...only to be commanded to rise one more time to fight for their alien masters."
The good doctor shook his head. "So many innocent people, used and then discarded like ordinary tools. Pointless. Pointless waste of life."
"And if we don't do something, we're gonna be next," said Weaver pointedly. "Make the call, Whiskey, or I will."
Carter furrowed his brow, peering over the edge of the Command Ship to look at the Agents arranged in a semicircle. Knox and Bradford gripped their rifles so hard their knuckles turned white, while Vahlen and Dawson both started reaching for flashbangs. Shen pumped the slide on his Scatter Blaster in preparation, while Summer's kept her laser pistol primed and ready to fire, her other hand edging closer to Wandering Thorn.
The silver-eyed woman looked back at Carter, and the two of them shared a nod.
"Alright, listen up team," he barked into his radio. "There's too many Sleepwalkers to try to weave through, so we're gonna stick with the fighting retreat plan. Alpha leads off with a shot on my mark, and then we clear a path through the horde and back to exfil. I want everyone using whatever kind of crowd control you've got - flashbangs, grenades, satchel charges...anything that deals with as many of these things at once as possible. Watch each other's backs, keep moving...and no matter what, do not let them grab you. Clear?"
The outnumbered, outflanked agents on the ground all nodded tersely.
"Alright then. Alpha? On my mark...mark."
A crimson beam of red lit up the night like a Christmas Star, bringing a Sleepwalker down and forcing it to experience death once more. The Support Agents threw their flashbangs while Shen flung a satchel charge, the bright flash and the loud bang overwhelming what little sensory capacity the walking corpses still had. The explosive pack went off a moment later, scattering the horde and creating a circle-shaped gap in the sea of death. Summer, Knox, and Bradford all led their fellow Agents into the newly-made gap, widening it with laser fire, hot lead, and a flashing red sword.
"Go!" Carter ordered, before the opening began to close as the swarming Sleepwalkers moved in. He and Weir took running leaps off the side of the Command Ship, doing their best to tuck into rolls to soften the impact of the ten-foot fall. Weaver took a few potshots with her rifle before she made the jump herself, using a Sleepwalker to cushion the landing before putting two pistol bullets into its brain. As the horde shambled closer to the only living creatures they could sense, the nine Agents grouped up into a box formation as they kept moving west, with Weir in the center and Summer, Weaver, and Carter at the front to clear a path.
The Sleepwalkers fought and pursued them with reckless abandon as they made their way back to Adam's tower, throwing themselves at the living, breathing men and women with little regard for their own safety. Carter's telekinetic shoves and Shen's explosive traps helped create pockets of open space for the squad to navigate through, while the flashbangs from Support agents kept the shambling husks from following them too closely. Knox and Bradford burned through ammo as they laid down covering fire during their advance, while Weaver and Weir's marksmanship with their bolt-action rifles helped pick off stragglers that survived the initial salvos from the Commandos. Any Sleepwalkers that got too close found themselves cut down by Summer's blade, which resembled little more than a whirling red blur as its owner carved her way through the living corpses like a tornado of blazing steel. But for every Sleepwalker felled by the squad, ten more seemed to rise to take their place, and not even distant headshots from Adam could stem the tide.
Their defenses couldn't keep up forever with this many enemies, and Vahlen was the first one to find himself grabbed.
"Gah!" The Support Agent shrieked as a pair of rotting teeth clamped around his ankle. "They got my leg! Just go! Leave me!"
"Not an option Hotel!" Called Weir. "Delta!"
"On it!"
The good doctor lived up to his name as he spun on the spot and aimed his rifle, felling one, two, three Sleepwalkers that started to swarm the fallen Agent. As soon as his ammo ran out, Shen rushed forward with his Scatter Blaster primed and ready to fire. Two more Sleepwalkers rushed to tackle him, but they were both vaporized by one wide shot from the alien shotgun. The Engineer approached Vahlen, spotted the legless husk that had its jaws around his heel, and broke its grip with a solid kick to the back of the head. He quickly knelt down and slung one of Vahlen's arms around his shoulder, pulling him to his feet just as Sleepwalkers approached from both sides. He looped his off-hand under Vahlen's armpit and used it to steady the Scatter Blaster as he fired and tore apart a shambling corpse on his left, pumping the slide once before swinging his weapon to the right and firing it one-handed to dispatch the other one.
"I've got your back, Howard," said Shen simply as he helped Vahlen hobble back to the group.
"Th-thanks, Ray," panted the Support Agent, "Thought I was a goner back there. I'll name my first kid after you, if it's a boy."
Shen smirked. "You'll have to find a wife first, friend. And one thing at a time. How's your leg?"
"It hurts, but we don't have time to treat it," answered Vahlen as they rejoined. "I can't fight, and I'll need help walking the rest of the way."
"Lean on me, Hotel," said Weir as he emptied his pockets. "Delta's gun is better suited to these crowds than mine. Besides, I'm fresh out of ammo, so it's not like I'll be much use otherwise."
Vahlen wanted to protest, but by the time the words formed, Weir was already slinging his empty rifle on his back and taking him from Shen. The Engineer nodded and turned to face the back end of the horde, grabbing one of Vahlen's flashbangs and flinging it into the crowd to cover their escape.
"Keep moving!" Weaver called, firing a few more rifle shots into the advancing horde, "Don't slow down for anything! There's too many of them to fight, we need to - WHOA!"
The leader of Strike One was blindsided by a charging Sleepwalker, one that grabbed and tackled her to the ground. She landed on her back and put up her rifle to push against the frenzied claws and gnashing teeth of the Sleepwalker on top of her, but the pinned Weaver was left vulnerable for the additional Sleepwalkers that moved in for the kill.
"Weaver, hang on!" Carter called out, raising his hand to let the telekinetic energy flow once more. But before he could do anything, Summer rushed to the rescue, Wandering Thorn blazing in the night as she cleaved and cut down advancing Sleepwalkers. Power, form, and precision came together in a perfect storm as the silver-eyed woman pushed through the swarm of bodies, her sword leaving swirling red trails with every strike, slash, and stab.
Breathless and stained with enemy blood, she turned back to Weaver.
"You okay?" Summer asked, extending a hand to her fellow Agent.
Weaver narrowed her eyes, then pulled herself to her feet with a glare at Summer. "I had it under control."
"Clearly," said Summer with a roll of her eyes. "You're welcome, by the way."
With a noncommittal grunt, Weaver just picked up her rifle and started firing again without saying another word. Summer spent a minute staring in disbelief, before looking to Carter, who just shrugged.
"How much further to the tower?" Bradford asked as he snapped his last power cell into his rifle. "We're running dry on ammo here."
"Shouldn't be too far!" Knox growled, smashing the teeth of a Sleepwalker with the butt of his rifle. "Alpha?"
"You're coming into my visual range now," called the Recon agent over the radio. "Lima and Romeo are holding their own down on the ground - listen for the chattering of machine gun fire, and you'll know you're almost there!"
Sure enough, Carter could hear the muffled sounds of distant gunfire directly ahead, from machine guns of both the human and alien variety. Furrowing his brow, he slung his empty rifle on his back and took a deep breath, staring at the thickest part of the horde that stood between them and their escape route.
"Everyone cover me!" He barked. "I'm gonna clear us a path!"
The others seemed confused, but understood what Carter meant as soon as they saw both his hands begin to glow with blue light. Grenades, lasers, bullets, and screams all became meaningless noise to him, noise he tried to tune out as he dug deep within for every ounce of telekinetic energy he still had.
Carter's palms soon grew hot with alien power, and the more he channeled, the worse the pain grew. The lights around his hands became blinding, to the point where it seemed like he had replaced his arms with miniature pale white suns. Just as he felt the skin around his fingertips begin to burn and peel off, he released all that energy with a feral war cry, unleashing his strongest telekinetic blast to date.
The result was instantaneous. A sonic boom of pure force surged outwards, a cone of pure relentless power rocketing through the horde with all the speed and impact of a speeding train hitting a penny on the rails. Sleepwalkers were sent flying like ragdolls in a maelstrom, carving a ten-foot-wide open space as the previous inhabitants cascaded back into the crowd. The newly-created pathway seemed to stretch into the horizon itself, and even the mindless husks seemed wary to try to swarm back into place.
"My word," exclaimed Weir, stunned. "That is...remarkable."
Weaver, on the other hand, just looked annoyed. "Why didn't you do that right away?"
"I didn't even know I could do something on that scale," gasped Carter. "And I don't think I'll be doing that again anytime soon."
"We move now, and you won't have to," said Summer pointedly. "Come on!"
She took Carter's hand by the wrist and led him forward, using Wandering Thorn to cut down any Sleepwalkers that dared to wander into the path again. The rest of the squad soon followed, taking potshots at the Sleepwalkers that trailed behind them. Soon, the curtain began to close in on the squad from the back once more, prompting them to stop fighting altogether and make a mad dash for the tower, where Van Doorn, Ryan, and Adam were frantically holding their own.
"Skyrangers, what's your status?" Carter asked as he nodded his thanks to Summer.
"Outside the dome and waiting on you," reported Barnes over the radio. "Engines are running hot."
"Good, cause we've got no time to lose! Alpha, Lima, Romeo, fall back! Everyone else, keep running!"
The dozen Agents did exactly that, crossing the remaining twenty yards at a dead sprint as they finally cleared the edge of the horde and passed the cloaking dome. Two Skyrangers hovered a few feet off the ground, rear entry ramps already open and waiting for their precious passengers.
"Go go go!"
Carter and Summer bounded up the ramp in one more breathless run, followed by Dawson and Knox. Shen and Vahlen made sure Weir made it on their transport before they boarded themselves, with Weir and Bradford doing one more sweep of the area before doing the same. Van Doorn and Ryan kept their fingers on the trigger as they backpedaled away from the rushing horde and into the Skyrangers; a moment before the ramp closed up, Adam rematerialized as he turned off his cloak.
"All operatives secured," called Barnes, "Skyranger-Two, you got everyone?"
"Sure do," reported Dolly, "Victor's confirming that he has the package. Setting off now."
Everyone went to their seats as the advanced aircraft began to rise, strapping in and trying not to look at all the Sleepwalkers trying to grab onto the Skyrangers as they ascended. Barnes gingerly pushed on the controls to make them fly forward, before spinning around after a few seconds. From the enormous bulbous window of the Skyranger's cockpit, Carter had a perfect view of the entire network of crop circles...as well as a front-row seat for the approaching explosion.
"Confirming position out of range of explosives," called Dolly over the radio. "Whiskey? Be a dear and blow that place to hell where it belongs."
Pulling the detonator out of his pack, Carter popped off the cover and squeezed hard on the button.
For a moment, nothing happened, and the gray-hatted Agent began to wonder if the trigger was faulty. His fears were unfounded, however, as a streak of white fire began to materialize from the largest crop circle in the center of the field, as the stealth generators went up in flames along with everything else - including the Command Ship. He couldn't hear the resulting "boom" from inside the Skyranger, but he certainly felt the shockwave even through the steel walls. The explosion was followed up by another, then another, and then even more, as all thirteen circles were consumed by pillars of exploding Elerium, setting off a chain reaction that destroyed just about everything in its wake.
After a continuous minute of pyrotechnics, DaSilva's last gift to the world finally faded away, leaving only a scorching crater where the crop circles used to be.
"Well, I'm sure no one will find that suspicious in the coming years," said Dawson with a smirk.
Summer snorted, Knox groaned, and even Carter cracked a small smile as he pulled a military chocolate bar out of his pocket. Now that none of them were in danger, he figured it'd be a good chance to scarf it down and restore his energy. A few hungry bites later, he felt ready enough to reach for his radio and call in news of their success.
"Bravo-Zero, this is Whiskey-Three. The phase plotter has been secured and the shipyard has been destroyed."
"Copy that, Whiskey-Three," replied Faulke in a pleased, yet somber tone, "Do a quick sweep over the area to confirm total destruction, and then come on home. We've already made arrangements to honor Operatives DaSilva, Kinney, and Redmond...we'll perform a toast in their name tonight, a tribute to their sacrifice in the war for our -"
"Hate to interrupt, Boss," said Dolly with concern in her voice, "But thermals are picking up movement from the crater."
Silence. Carter swallowed the lump in his throat as he clicked his radio again.
"Skyranger-Two, please confirm. You're sure you saw something moving around down there? Even after we leveled the entire construct?"
"That's what the thermals say," replied Dolly. "Something survived the explosion...somehow."
"My thermal scans are picking up something too," confirmed Barnes, "And whatever it is, it's flying. And it's...big?"
Carter swore. Flying? Big? Still alive even after thirteen simultaneous UFO explosions?
It could only mean one thing.
"Well...it looks like we found DaSilva's Titan," he groaned. "Or rather...it found us."
Sure enough, a towering black monolith with a glowing red eye on the front began to rise out of the ash and smoke, cubes rippling across its smooth metallic surface. With each pass of the new material, the damage caused by the explosion seemed to completely vanish, leaving the Titan as fresh and undamaged as the day it had been built.
"Skyrangers, return to base immediately!" shouted Faulke. "Get out of there!"
The pilots didn't even need to hear the order before they acted on it, immediately spinning around and flying away from the deadly war machine. Carter caught a glimpse of the Titan's eye growing brighter, as its main weapon charged and hummed as the Titan flew in pursuit. Barnes juked to the right just in time to avoid a massive crimson laser beam that seemed to shake the foundations of Heaven itself; Dolly swerved left, then dropped altitude to avoid the ray of death as it tried to track her Skyranger.
"Bogey's got me in its sights!" shrieked Dolly, "Beginning evasive maneuvers!"
From the slitlike side windows, Carter watched as the second Skyranger floated like a butterfly in the night sky, dancing and weaving in a display of aerial acrobatics that would have confused and shaken off any ordinary opponent. Unfortunately, the Titan was no ordinary opponent, and no matter what she did or how close Barnes tried to fly to get it to switch targets, it remained locked on Dolly and her precious cargo, firing beams of death into the air and coming dangerously close to scorching the hull a few times.
"It's going for the phase plotter!" Weir exclaimed in realization. "If it can't retrieve the tech, it'll settle for just destroying it and whatever's carrying it! That's why it's not attacking Strike Three's Skyranger - it doesn't see it as a threat!"
Carter furrowed his brow. Of course. The damn thing must have been able to track which of the two helicopters had the phase plotter, and left the other one well enough alone. Dolly couldn't keep up the evasion tactics forever - this thing would follow them to the ends of the earth if it wasn't taken care of right here, right now.
"Sir?" Summer looked up at him with a determined gaze. "What do we do?"
"Nothing we can do," said Adam with a sigh. "Skyrangers don't have guns, not that it would matter if they did."
"We can't just sit here and do nothing!" protested Summer. "Those are our friends over on the other Skyranger! Friends who can't fight back! We have to do something!"
Blinking in realization, Carter unfastened his harness and stood up. "You're right, Alpha. The Skyranger doesn't have guns."
He grabbed a spare LAW from the ammo rack towards the back of the Skyranger. "But we do."
Strike Three looked up at their leader as if he had lost his mind - except Summer, who was just grinning.
"Barnes? How hard is it to pilot this thing with the cargo ramp down?"
"Shouldn't affect aerodynamics too much, if you're talking about flying with the back hatch open. Want me to drop it now?"
"Not yet, wait until we get closer to the Titan," said Carter. He clicked his radio again. "Skyranger-Two, this is Whiskey-Three. Get ready to book it back to HQ as soon as we open fire on that thing. We'll take the heat off you long enough for you to escape."
"Carter, no!" hissed Weaver. "That's suicide! There's no way you can bring that thing down on your own!"
"Wouldn't be the first time we did something impossible," he replied calmly, "Besides, worst case scenario, we still buy you and your bird time to escape and get the doctor back to safety. That phase plotter and the man carrying it are too important to lose - if Skyranger-Two goes down, so does any chance we have of winning this war."
There was a silence on the other end, before Weir spoke up in a quiet resignation.
"Order received. Be careful, Strike Three."
"You too, doc," said Carter before he put his radio back on his hip. "Alright Threes, load up on armor-piercing weapons! I want warheads and DEAF rounds firing at all times, keep the pressure on so that it focuses on us! Romeo, keep your gatling laser - I want you at the tip of the firing formation, laying down suppressive fire until either your gun or the Titan breaks. Can you do that?"
Ryan nodded, glassy expression suddenly hardening into stone once again. The rest of the squad unbuckled themselves and started switching out their alien weapons for conventional ballistics and the specialized depleted elerium ammunition. Carter and Summer traded their laser rifles for M60's, Knox restocked his supply of DEAF rounds, and Adam picked out the all-too-familiar M1903. Dawson didn't grab anything - he quickly volunteered to act as a "gofer" for rockets and ammo, saying how he never learned to shoot anything larger than a Z-62. When everyone's weapons were picked out, Ryan stood at the very top of the ramp so that when it lowered, he'd have a clear shot out the back. Carter and Summer took positions on either side, Knox and Adam stood behind and between them, and Dawson started rummaging through the cabinets for extra supplies.
"Everybody ready?" Barnes asked.
"As ready as we can be," said Carter. "Drop the ramp, then do a flyover across the top of the Titan. And be ready to dodge."
"Copy that! Lowering the hatch in three...two...one…"
The wind whipped at Carter's face and his stomach lurched as the back floor of the Skyranger slowly tilted downwards, combined with the rapid acceleration as Barnes compensated for the change of shape. His valiant hat was picked up by the wind and went flying off into the night, leaving his black-brown hair fully exposed for the currents to sweep through and billow dramatically. His mild annoyance at losing his hat quickly faded, however, as the Titan - somehow a shade of black darker than the night sky - came into view, charging its laser up for another attack at Dolly's Skyranger.
"Open fire!" he roared, pulling the trigger on his machine gun and watching as his word and the world around him were drowned out in a deep thumping of discharging bullets. The rounds burned so hot that they left orange streaks in the sky as they left the barrel, which suited the squad just fine - it meant that they could see where their shots were connecting in the darkness. Barnes flicked on the emergency lights in the back of the Skyranger, giving illumination to the squad...not that they needed it, as Ryan's continuous barrage of powerful lasers were nearly blinding.
Not every shot connected with the Titan, but enough of them did for the plan to work. The flying monolith let out a menacing groan and turned towards the pitiful humans who had dared to strike it. The single menacing eye at the front continued to hum and whine, the pitch eventually reaching a frequency that set Carter's teeth on edge.
"Hold onto something!" called Barnes, "Beginning evasive maneuvers!"
Carter grabbed the hydraulic piston just as the Skyranger began to veer to the left, narrowly avoiding the ear-splitting blast of pure energy that left a shockwave of bass in its midst. The squad didn't need to hear his order to keep firing - they did so instinctively once the Skyranger evened out, peppering the jet-black armor with rockets and DEAF rounds even as Barnes started moving again, away from the Titan and the other Skyranger. The monstrous machine took the bait and followed in hot pursuit, its boxy frame following them with surprising speed and agility and shooting more lasers in an attempt to bring the bird down. On the upside, the Titan followed closely enough that lining up shots was easy enough...on the downside, the sight of the monolith keeping up with all of Barnes's tricks and aerial maneuvers was a terrifying visage, one that always seemed to block the otherwise-fantastic view the open ramp afforded them.
The sheer volume of lasers, bullets, and rockets eventually began to take its toll on the Titan's armor, as the number of holes left by projectiles began to add up. Unlike the fight with the Sectopod from earlier, Barnes's flying and unlimited access to heavier weapons meant that nothing was keeping the squad from focusing their fire in a constant barrage. The excitement was short-lived, however, as a wave of shifting cubes across the surface quickly undid any and all damage the team managed to inflict, turning dents, craters, and scorch marks back into black metal as smooth as glass. The self-repair factor, coupled with the more powerful weapon in comparison, meant that the Titan could afford to be reckless and aggressive - the same could not be said of the Skyranger, as each near-miss and warped hull from a daring maneuver was a permanent mark.
"This thing's keeping up with every piloting trick I know!" Barnes gasped. "I can't keep dodging forever at this rate!"
"Try to get behind that thing's laser!" Carter called through the radio, snapping a new box of DEAF rounds into his M60. "Pull up and let it pass you!"
"Alright, but be warned - this one's gonna be choppy!"
The nose of the Skyranger tipped upwards as Barnes yanked back hard on the tail rotor, jerking the helicopter to a near-complete lateral halt as it rapidly climbed. The Agents clung to whatever was bolted down to keep from flying out as the Titan zoomed past the helicopter and stopped, its laser discharging ineffectually and carving a new canyon into the distant ground below. With a groan of discomfort Barnes swung the Skyranger in place, giving Carter and the others a clear shot at the backside of the Titan that was now within spitting distance.
"Fire now! While it's vulnerable!" Carter called as he raised his M60, ready to let loose another burst…
...only to immediately eat his words as the entire top half of the Titan rotated on a swivel, its blood red eye staring directly at the Skyranger and whining with a dangerous intention.
"Everybody down!" He screamed, pitching himself backwards into the Skyranger. Knox and Adam backpedaled and dove under their seats, while Dawson shoved himself into the weapons locker. The only ones who didn't dive for protection were Ryan, who finally cracked as he unleashed a manic yell and fired his gatling laser at full blast into the eye, and Summer, who was trying desperately to pull the howling Commando back to safety.
"YOU KILLED MY FRIENDS!" hollered Ryan Steel as hot, angry tears rolled down his face, "NOW I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
"Romeo, for God's sake, get back here!" Carter growled. "Barnes, get us out of here!"
"I-I can't!" Barnes yelped as sparks shot out of his controls. "This thing's got us stuck in some kind of energy field, I can't get - "
BRUMMMMMMMMMMMMM.
All at once, the colors of reality bled to gray as a single overpowering beam of dark red tore through everything in its way. The smells of burning ozone and melting steel tainted the air, joined soon by the scent of smoking flesh and boiling blood. The very air itself, superheated by the directed energy attack, created an explosion of rapidly-expanding gas that produced a powerful shock wave, one that knocked everything and everyone around in the cabin. Ryan Steel's bloody corpse was flung backwards, with a giant hole where his heart and left shoulder used to be; Summer was at least quick enough to put some distance between her and the Commando before the attack, but she still felt the full brunt of the shockwave as it slammed her against the wall with enough force to shatter bones and knock her out cold.
The Titan's terrible beam burned through the hull of the Skyranger for four agonizingly long seconds, before the barrage finally ceased. The world slowly came back into focus as the helicopter dipped down to the Earth, while the monolith did nothing but watch it fall.
Adam crawled his way out from his chair just in time to see Ryan's mutilated remains float in front of him. "Shit! We got a man down!"
"That's the least of our worries, kid!" barked Knox, "The Skyranger's going down!"
Carter grabbed his seat, trying to avoid getting thrown out the back as the Skyranger spun and spiraled out of control. "Barnes!"
"Main rotor's completely toast! Engines aren't responding, hull integrity's in the single digit range, and we're losing altitude fast! I'll light up the distress beacon and try to put us down using the emergency guidance flaps, but it's gonna be a rough landing! All hands, brace for impact - and try to secure whatever you can!"
As the agents floated in near-total free fall, they took advantage of the few seconds they had to maximize their survival. Knox and Adam grabbed as much floating gear as they could and strapped themselves into their crash webbing, while Dawson pulled the gatling laser into the weapons locker with him, making the sign of the cross on his heart and head before slamming the door shut. Carter used his telekinesis to forcefully close the ramp, pulling it back up until it locked into place. Then he plugged up the top hole with Ryan's lifeless body, moving over the bottom hole in the Skyranger and letting the forces of decompression glue him in place. Finally, he pulled Summer's unconscious form towards him with his power once more, gripping her tightly and making sure her head was positioned against his chest to prevent whiplash from the impact of landing.
"Just hang in there," he growled softly, "I'm not letting anyone else die tonight."
The last few moments before the crash were almost as painful as the impact itself.
Almost.
You probably already figured this out, but...Summer's gone.
I know you left that life behind because you were too scared of being weak, but I like to think that in her last moments, Summer was thinking of us. All of us. It's okay to feel sad, it's alright to mourn. Doesn't matter what the tribe leaders told us - emotions aren't what make us weak. They're what make us human.
So let me know if this letter finds you, somehow. You wanted space, and we gave it to you. If you want to talk about it, you know where to find me. And while I'm not gonna beg you to come back to Tai...I'm just saying the kids could really use a mom right about now. Someone strong, like you.
Your brother, whether you like it or not,
Qrow
She closed her eyes and shook her head with a furrowed brow, the letter crumpling up into scrap paper as she clenched her fist. Idiots. Fucking idiots. All of them were. Ozpin, for his stupid little shadow war. Taiyang, for not talking some sense into that new wife of his. Qrow, for thinking he could talk her into coming back. And Summer, for marching straight into the heart of that bitch's lair and expecting a total victory.
But maybe the biggest idiot was her all along, for letting herself care about any of them once upon a time.
She drew her blade and squeezed her blood red eyes, thinking of that silver-eyed idiot and her stupid white cloak and that maddening smile she always wore. She focused her mind on all those nights where it was just the two of them, where she let herself open up about things she never told anyone else. She focused on the warmth of her hands, the softness of her words, the eyes that so desperately wanted to learn more about her despite every attempt to push her away. She focused on that night before she left, when she revealed a power everyone thought had disappeared, when she snuck into a hidden sanctuary for knowledge no one else held, in an attempt to learn about the enemy that waited for them in the dark...only to learn the impossible truth that shattered one woman's resolve and emboldened the other.
Focusing on Summer Rose, Raven pooled her Aura into her sword and slashed the empty air of her tent.
Nothing.
Growling, she did so again, and again, and again, over and over. She knew it was pointless - if Summer were still anywhere on this world, her Semblance would open a portal to that location and take her there instantly. But there was nothing in the air, no magical gateway across space.
There was only Raven Branwen, crying cold, angry tears.
"Chief? Everything alright?"
She snapped a glare at her fellow bandit, half-tempted to gut him if it meant taking control of her situation again. As he put his hands up in shock, she regained control of herself, sheathing her blade and sighing.
"I'm fine," she lied.
"S-sorry, ma'am…" said the bandit shakily. "If I'd known that the letter would upset you that much, I woulda just...left it right there on the road…"
"I said I'm fine." She growled to make her point, but even she could tell it only betrayed her emotions further. So she sighed and picked up her actual mask, letting the imposing bird shape hide her face better than she could at the moment.
"I'm going hunting. Don't follow me."
The bandit sort of gulped and nodded, grateful to have an non-perforated digestive system for at least one more day. When he stepped away, Raven closed her eyes and triggered the magic within, feeling the world grow larger as she grew smaller.
She wasn't going back to those idiots. Never in a million lifetimes.
But maybe she'd let loose a few thunderstorms for the only woman she could call a friend.
"Welcome back to the States, Mister Carter. Good work down in Laos. Unfortunately, we have some bad news for you…"
"This is where we buried them, son. Old Missus Parkinson funded the funeral, so there's nothing you need to worry about in terms of finances. It's such a shame...we've missed them all so very much…"
"Will, you already cleaned out my shelves three days ago. It takes time to restock the alcohol supplies. I appreciate your business, but...I dunno if I can keep selling to you when you're like this…"
"Look, it's not supposed to be complicated, sir. I spread my legs, you stick it in. That's all that has to happen here...goddammit, why do I always get the weird ones with the baggage?"
"Another DUI charge? Jesus Christ, Carter, I can't keep covering for you like this. Sober up, or pack up. This is getting out of hand, I can't let you - FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU - STAND DOWN! STAND DOWN, GODDAM - "
"You punched Director Frost. In the face. You're lucky you still have a job. Hell, you're lucky you're not getting lined up in front of a firing squad. Now sit behind that desk and don't touch anything. This is the best we can do for you, given your...situation…"
The world slowly came back into focus as Carter blinked blearily, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The emergency lights and the blaring alarms of the Skyranger seemed so distant, and instead of laying on sharpened steel, he seemed to have landed on a soft grassy hill. While he still felt pain in every part of his body, a quick cursory inspection told him that he was fine - his healing factor must have worked in his sleep once again, preserving his body even when it wasn't in motion.
He also noticed that he was still holding Summer in a tight grip, though now they were laying side-by-side.
Carter put two fingers to her neck to check for a pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when he found one. Not that he needed to bother - he could feel her stirring in his arms, rolling her head back and groaning in pain as she opened her silver eyes with wincing blinks. Silas snaked out from Carter's power pack and "eyed" the two of them carefully, before slithering back to its resting spot once Summer turned to face the man.
"You know...it's no wonder people think we're an old married couple," she gasped. "I'm starting to think maybe they're not entirely wrong…"
"Just wanted to make sure you didn't get bounced around with everyone else when we hit the ground," said Carter. "How's your head?"
"Hurts like hell, but it's still there. Not seeing any burns, either. Guess I have you to thank for that?"
Carter frowned. "I...it must have been me. When the artifact healed me in my sleep, it must have healed you too. I just hope there's enough energy left to treat the others…"
Summer chuckled, trailing her arms around Carter to return the embrace. "Then we should probably get up and check on them. As much as I enjoy cuddling…"
Choosing to ignore the second part of her comment, Carter pushed himself up and off the ground, helping Summer to her feet.
"Alright. It looks like we were thrown clear of the Skyranger in the crash. Let's regroup and wait for extraction. Doesn't look like it's that far - can you walk?"
Summer nodded, rising and picking up Wandering Thorn and stashing it on her hip. "Yep. Let's go."
The walk back to the wreckage was made in silence, the flashing lights and blaring alarm serving as a very helpful beacon in the dark of night. It led them down the slope of a verdant valley between two grassy hills, perfectly preserved miles away from Roswell - save for the massive chunk torn out of the earth from the Skyranger's emergency "landing." The wreckage itself looked less like parts of a helicopter and more like a misshapen mass of steel plates and shattered glass, but at least it wasn't on fire or leaking fuel. That would have been a whole mess of problems that they couldn't afford to deal with.
Knox was busy pulling a coughing, hacking Barnes out of the mangled cockpit, while Adam went and yanked open the door of the weapons locker, making Dawson fall out of his hiding spot in a yelp of surprise. They all looked over at Carter and Summer as they approached, looking relieved and exhausted.
"So, how was the honeymoon?" Dawson grinned as he picked himself up.
Carter was about to respond when he felt his boot kick against something wet and heavy. He looked down in frustration...which turned to sadness as he realized he'd almost tripped over the corpse of Ryan Steel. The light had left his eyes, dried blood stained the nearby grass, and the last vestiges of angry tears still clung to his still, lifeless face. With a sigh, he leaned down and closed the young man's eyes with his fingers, taking a moment to mourn him. While Ryan wasn't technically part of Strike Three (he had been part of DaSilva's squad), he still had the unfortunate distinction of being Carter's first casualty under his command.
"Carter," said Summer, putting a hand on his shoulder as she stared at the ground. "I...it's not your fault. It's mine. I tried to pull him down before the Titan fired, but...he wouldn't let up. I should've tried harder...I'm so, so sorry."
The man shook his head as he pulled the dog tags off the fallen Commando. "Don't blame yourself. I made a bad call, and he paid the price. This happens all the time in war...and it's not the fault of nobody except these damn aliens."
"Another man to toast when we get back," said Knox mournfully. "Christ...such a good kid. Young, too...goddamn this war…"
"He used to help out in medical sometimes," reminisced Dawson. "Even learned some first aid with Wright. He had steady hands...could've been a good surgeon if he wanted."
"Daisy was always sweet on him whenever he came by her station to help in comms," said Barnes as he shook his head. "Always teased me about how I'd make a great brother-in-law, spent her off time trying to catch his eye." He sighed. "Never seen her so in love with someone like that. Doubt I'll see it again anytime soon."
Adam looked up. "Um...not to be disrespectful, but I think we've got bigger things to worry about."
Carter and the rest of the squad looked up...and gasped.
The Titan was slowly descending down to their position, floating in the night sky with enough mass to darken entire constellations of stars. Its single red eye shone with the force of an exploding sun, casting its evil gaze on the survivors of the crash with murder on the processor.
No...no no no…Carter's eyes widened as he looked up and saw the shape of the Titan looming towards the fallen Skyranger. This is it. We're done. There's no way that we can…
Focus.
He blinked. He winced. He shook his head. What was that? What was that voice?
And why did it sound...familiar?
Come on, Will. Get it together. Now is not the time to be going crazy. I have to...you have to…
Observe.
The approaching monolith slowed to a halt, the wind seemed to stop in its tracks, and the entire world around him slowed to a crawl as blue tinted the edges of his vision. For a moment, he saw himself, he saw his squad, and he saw the alien threat. Only...he wasn't seeing with his eyes. Or hearing with his ears. It was like...it was like he was a bird soaring overhead, witnessing the conflict below but unable to do much except watch.
Shit. I really am going crazy.
The panic wormed its way back into his mind, and for a moment, the world as he saw it threatened to crumble and wither away. No! No no no! Whatever this is, it needs to last longer! I need -!
Calm.
Carter took a deep breath. It was odd to see his own chest rise and deflate, odder still to see his own nostrils flare as he breathed. Right. There would be time to process what was going on later. Right now, he needed to use the time this...thing...afforded him to come up with a plan for survival.
And stranded this far in enemy territory, with one man down, four wounded Agents, and a crashed Skyranger, the only way to guarantee survival was to somehow destroy the Titan pursuing them.
This thing is a machine like any other, he thought to himself, like the Sectopod, but bigger. And if we managed to send that oversized spider to the scrap yard...then there's gotta be a way to take this thing down.
So he turned his "gaze" onto the towering monolith, staring at it with eyes that were not his own. To his surprise, he saw through the ebony-black armor plating, getting a clear view of the internal systems and power sources needed to fuel this massive monstrosity. He saw glowing red lines that all connected to a single red orb - the very same red orb that projected the crimson beam of death responsible for taking so many lives.
So it has to draw power directly from those generators in order to use its laser, thought Carter, and it can't put any armor or barriers of any kind around the lens without obstructing its main line of fire. If we can get a clean shot right on the glowing spot...and get someone in there while the weapons are offline...but last I checked, none of us knew how to fly. So how…?
Anticipate.
A phantom image of the Titan projected itself forward, surging towards ephemeral outlines of soldiers firing at it from on the ground. When the colossal construct got close enough, it suddenly dropped out of the air, landing with a ghostly shockwave that knocked the squad off their feet. From that point, it was a simple matter of five well-aimed blue lasers to kill each and every downed soldier, before the image faded from view.
Right...the Outsiders use these things as giant war machines, he pondered. They're entirely mechanical, so they only act how they're programmed to. Of course they'd make it so that the Titans fight on the ground once they're convinced they don't need air superiority - no need to waste fuel, or Elerium, or whatever the hell these things run off of. So when it comes down on us hard, that's when we make our move. So what do we gotta do to make this happen?
Trust.
Carter looked at his squad, who even in the aftermath of a near-fatal crash, still had all the skills and tools they needed to bring down the Titan.
Act.
Now that was a suggestion he could follow.
The world snapped back into focus, time sped up to its usual pace, and Carter's eyes returned to his head as he turned and addressed the soldiers staring at the oncoming monolith.
"Listen up!" His eyes were narrow with determination. "I know how to bring this thing down, but I need you all to trust me, and I need you to do what I say, when I say it! Understood?"
Despite being rattled, wounded, and most likely very confused, everyone nodded as they gathered themselves.
"Kilo, I need you to find Romeo's gatling laser and some good solid ground to keep your footing! Golf, I need you to prep two shield spheres and stay close to everyone else! Alpha, find your laser sniper and get a charge shot ready to fire as soon as I give the order! And Sierra? Get your sword warmed up."
Summer looked confused, then nodded with a grin. Adam and Dawson shared a look of concern, but did as they were asked, anyways. And Knox, despite grumbling, went and fished the massive cannon out from the scattered pile of wreckage, by the blast.
"What about me, boss?" Barnes asked with a determined gaze. Carter hummed for a moment, then nodded.
"I need you to gather up every single plastic explosive that got scattered in the crash and take cover! Hand them off to Sierra when you've got them."
"You got it, boss!" The pilot gave a salute, then started doing as Carter said. With a wave of his hand, the remaining agents circled around him, with Knox taking point, Adam standing back, and Dawson and Summer on either side.
"I'm assuming you have a plan, sir?" Dawson asked with a raised eyebrow.
Carter nodded. "It's a risky one, but if we pull it off…we might have a chance at making it back alive. Kilo? Open fire with that gun."
Knox growled about using the heavy weapon, but widened his stance as he squared his shoulders.
"Come get some you big fucking brick!"
The Commando howled as the gatling laser roared, lighting up the night with a storm of scarlet streaks. Most of them sailed harmlessly into the night sky, but a few tracked across the Titan's black plating. While it didn't do much to damage the massive machine, it did send a clear message - there were people down in the valley, and they were not done fighting yet.
The Titan hummed and droned loudly as it approached, pressing forward despite the onslaught of lasers. When it was ten yards away, the floating tower suddenly stopped, its blaring sounds creating a solid wall of sound as it powered down its engines.
"Golf!" Carter shouted as the machine fell to the earth, "Shields! Now!"
Dawson flung both his spheres onto the ground, creating two overlapping protective bubbles just before the shockwave could reach them. The massive rush of displaced wind and air blew apart everything in a huge swath, tearing up grass and sending loose chunks of soil flying. The only things that remained unaffected were everything inside the shield spheres - as well as everything behind, as the alien barriers did their job of absorbing the force.
"Alpha! Shoot the eye now!"
With the alien sniper rifle fully charged, Adam fired a concentrated blast of pure energy from his weapon, the bolt passing easily through the protective barrier and crossing thirty feet to strike the glowing orb with pinpoint precision. The rupture created by the well-placed shot was enough for the power being gathered in the Titan's eye to discharge outward the only way it could - violently and explosively.
"Direct hit!" Adam called out with a smile.
"Nicely done, Alpha. Barnes, did you find those charges yet?"
"Got 'em right here, Whiskey! Sierra, catch!"
Barnes emerged from the wreckage with a case full of C4, tossing it to Summer who caught it with ease. Then she looked to Carter expectantly. "And what exactly will I be doing with these?"
"There's four generators inside there, surrounding what looks like the brain and heart of this thing. Get in through the hole in the eye Alpha just made, cut the lines that feed to the laser, plant the charges on the generators, then get the hell out of there. We'll keep it busy and grounded so it doesn't take off with you inside."
Summer nodded, though she raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly am I getting inside the eye?"
"I throw you."
Silver eyes widened momentarily, then narrowed as she grinned. "You'd better treat me to a nice dinner afterwards."
"I'll think about it. Now get ready to fly! Everyone else, fan out and start shooting!"
The squad nodded without question, as Adam surged to the left while Dawson went right. Knox held his ground and kept firing as the shield wore off, and Carter and Summer ran straight ahead towards the Titan. The monolith let out a low groan in annoyance, hoping to intimidate the small creatures to make up for the fact that its main weapon was woefully impotent for the moment. Unfortunately for the machine, it only emboldened them further.
"Repairs have started on the eye already!" called Barnes over the radios. "Whiskey, get Sierra in there now!"
"On it!" answered Carter as he slid to a halt and reached out, grabbing Summer and giving her a faint aura of blue light that matched his hand. She let out a small gasp as she was lifted a few inches off the ground, then nodded to Carter, locking the case of C4 magnetically to her power pack as she drew Wandering Thorn.
"Alley-oop!"
Carter swung his arm up and forward as he flung the silver-eyed woman, her screams of shock soon turned into cackles of glee as she sailed through the air. It was a well-aimed throw, easily carrying her straight for the eye before the momentum faded. Just as gravity began to take hold she fell towards the Titan, digging her blade into its armor to secure herself and climb the last few remaining feet. The eye had almost finished its repairs...but a blade of red cut through the newly-made material as though the lens were made of soft cheese, quickly slicing her way inside with a grin.
"I'm in!" Summer declared triumphantly. "And I see the things you were talking about! Cutting the lines now!"
"Might wanna hurry, Sierra," growled Knox, "This thing's looking straight at us!"
"Keep the pressure on!" Carter shouted, "and stay mobile! Don't let it get a bead on you!"
"Carter!" Barnes shouted over the radio, "I found some LAWs in the wreckage. You want 'em?"
"Hold onto them for now," replied Carter, "I'll let you know when I need them."
Snapping his SCOPE over the top of his pistol, Carter toggled the thermal settings and snapped the special rounds into the handle, peppering the surface of the Titan with armor-piercing bullets as he moved. During his barrage he kept an eye on the orange Summer-shaped blob who was busy tearing up everything important with a sword so hot it appeared as pure white through his lens. The Titan's glowing eye, once menacing and imposing, suddenly began to flicker and darken with each wire that Summer sliced in half. When the final connection was severed, the eye went dark altogether, and the monolith let out a helpless mechanical wail as its main weapon went offline.
"Lines are cut and the charges are planted! Gonna need an exit, though - this thing just deployed Drones to try to take me out!"
"Find a way down to the bottom!" called Carter as he ejected the now-empty mag. "I'll give you an opening! Barnes! Fire all those LAWs you found!"
"Understood! Where do you want me to aim?"
"No aiming! Just launch them!"
Barnes seemed confused for a moment, but he got the picture after he launched his first rocket. Carter's hands flowed with alien energy as he held the warhead in mid-air, casting a net over the explosive and keeping it suspended with telekinesis. Another disposable rocket launcher fired its payload, then three more, and finally Barnes added his last warhead to the floating array of explosives.
"That's all I got! Hope it's enough."
Carter grimaced as he kept his hold on the explosives. "It's plenty! Sierra, what's your status?"
"In position at the bottom! Where's the door you promised?"
"Coming right up! Get away from the wall, and get ready to run!"
And with that, Carter thrust his palm forward, sending all six rockets on a collision course with the base of the Titan. A cluster of explosions rocked the monolith's structure, leaving a sizable gap in the hull that lasted just long enough for Summer to dive back outside, pursued by three Drones shooting lasers at her.
"Sierra's coming in hot! Neutralize those flyers!"
A single charged laser blast cored one of the floating alien machines, while the second was hosed down by a torrent of red death. Carter used the last of his telekinetic energy stores to slam the last one into the ground, burying it halfway into the earth and pinning it long enough for Summer to plunge her sword through its processor.
"The Titan's laser is starting to light up again! It's now or never!"
Carter looked at Summer. "Sierra! Detonate the charges! Everyone, hit the deck!"
She nodded and dove to the ground alongside Carter, pulled out the detonator, and clicked the button with teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut.
The Titan paused for a moment as a plume of flame broke through its side, erupting from within its shell. This explosion was followed by three more that blasted it apart from the inside, as the generators and power sources were torn apart by the highly volatile plastic charges. Cracks like glowing red veins began to propagate up and down the monolithic monster like ice beginning to shatter, each one the result of a series of chain reactions that built each subsequent explosion up and added to the devastating finale. The Titan gave one more low menacing rumble as its central orb fizzled out for the final time, moments before one ultimate explosion blasted the entire monolith into a pillar of fire and energy that lit up the night sky for a full ten seconds before finally fading.
No one moved. No one spoke. No one wanted to even breathe until they were sure that the monstrous machine was well and truly destroyed. Carter, Summer, and the rest of the squad all just sat there, in the darkness, waiting for something, anything, to happen.
And eventually, something did indeed eventually happen, as a familiarly timid voice crackled over their radios.
"...oh my god. Strike Three...are you…"
"Penny!" breathed Summer in a sigh of relief. "What - how - "
"We received your distress signal as you crashed, but Dolly had to get the doctor and his team back to the base before she could come back for you. She dropped them off, I stepped in as comms operator, and we rushed as fast as we could to pick you up...but then that Titan moved in on your wreckage, and...wow. We must be about...four klicks away and we still saw that explosion from here. I don't know how you managed to bring that thing down...but it's amazing. Excellent work, please stand by. We've got hot chocolate, warm blankets, and medical supplies waiting for you."
Summer chuckled as she smiled. "Understood, we'll hold position. And it's all thanks to Carter - he's the one who came up with the plan."
Penny laughed. "Then I'll have to give Mister Carter a hug too, after I'm done with you. We see your position. ETA: five minutes."
"Copy that. Over and out."
Stowing her radio, Summer pulled Carter to his feet and then into a tight hug, squeezing and rocking him back and forth. When he didn't respond, she withdrew, giving his hands a gentle tug. "Come on. Let's go and make sure the others are alright, and then we'll be heading home. And then maybe we can see about honoring the people we lost today properly."
But Carter's mind wasn't processing anything his body was seeing or doing - he was merely watching the experience second-hand as it followed Summer, as it checked in with the hurt squad members, as it waved down the approaching Skyranger. Underneath the autopilot, his brain was working furiously, desperately, trying to understand what he saw just before the Titan attacked. That vision...that analysis of the battlefield, that understanding of the machine, that look inside at its guts and inner workings...it didn't just feel like it was all in his head. It felt like it was real, like he was flying and watching things from a distance. Was this some new power from the alien artifact? He'd had flashes of possible tactics before, momentary glimpses of what could happen, what might happen, what should happen, but that "battle focus" was fleeting and unreliable. Nothing quite as vivid or powerful as what he'd just experienced.
What the hell was going on with him?
Everything else he'd experienced since that night at Groom Range made at least some degree of sense. Rapid cellular regeneration? Sure, he could buy that as being part of the alien artifact being bonded to him. Telekinesis? A bit harder to explain, but he'd seen the Shield Commanders do it all the time, so he at least had a basis for it. But this? That sort of control over the battlefield? He didn't know how to explain that. He didn't even know if he could explain it.
He thought back to all the lives that had been lost in the last few days. John Kinney. Michael Redmond. Ryan Steel. And Nico DaSilva. Four good men, dead and gone. Four souls that could never be replaced. Four lives traded away, and for what? For some new alien gizmo they didn't understand? For the chance to blow up a shipyard that might just be rebuilt somewhere else?
No.
No, DaSilva...Nico...he wouldn't want him thinking like that. They'd struck a blow against the aliens today. They'd faced two mechanical monstrosities, both of which were seemingly invincible, until Carter and his team found a way to do the impossible and destroy them. They survived, and were ready to carry the flag in honor of their fallen friends.
But at the same time...would Nico be the last friend of Carter's that would be forced to pay the price of this damned war? Or would he only be the first?
Carter hoped and prayed that he would never have to find out.
A/N: And there, at long last...the Signal from Beyond story mission is finally done. Whew. Apologies if this chapter seemed a little rough in some places - by the time I finished the last chapter and started working on this one (which is only five pages shorter than Signal from Beyond), I was just getting absolutely tired and drained. Not necessarily from the story, just...things in general. Nothing bad, nothing scary, just exhausting things. (I think we all know that feeling about now.)
So after realizing I still hadn't finished this chapter, I just sort of spent a few days powering through to finish the chapter, and after giving it one cursory read through to fix grammar and spelling errors I'm just uploading as-is because I know that if I sit on this I'm gonna add another five pages worth of details and I'm just ready to finish this part and move on. (Plus Cyberpunk 2077 finally comes out within a few days, and I knew if I didn't finish this part of the story by then it just wasn't gonna get finished, period.)
On the plus side, the coming chapters are going to feature some very exciting developments, including something you, dear readers, have possibly been waiting and/or looking forward to. It's okay to admit you're looking forward to it - I can't wait to reach that part of the story either. I'll see if I can get it done before the end of December...but no promises.
Anyways, thanks for reading and being patient! See you next time.
