(A/N): Hey everyone, welcome back! Are you ready to go to space? Because we're going to space this chapter! That's right, folks - it's time for another story mission from The Bureau: XCOM Declassified, and this one is out of this world! Literally.

Strap in, grab your freeze-dried ice cream, and let's blast off!


Deep within Sector Zulu's makeshift armory, William Carter took off his beloved hat and stared at it for a long moment. For some reason he couldn't quite articulate, it felt strange to leave it behind for the upcoming mission. He knew it was a silly thing to get worked up over, and that there was no way he'd be able to wear it inside his suit. It didn't stop the gnawing feeling in his chest that he was leaving a part of himself here, like abandoning an arm or a leg.

"I won't lie to anyone here - for this mission, you're all going to go where no man or woman has gone before."

The briefing from Faulke continued to echo in his head, constantly reminding him of the stakes and what was coming up. With a heavy sigh he set the hat on the bench and reached into the locker, rummaging around a bit before pulling out what could only be described as shiny silver pajamas. Doctor Weir and Agent Crawford had spent an enormous amount of effort in making over three dozen of these space suits with leftover alien alloys and nylon scraps, and he knew that each one was packed with advanced technology like personal shield generators, jetpacks, and Venn Braces loaded with Commander Implants. But that didn't change the fact that the suits looked and felt like they'd been pulled off the set of a Captain Thunderclap movie.

"Thanks to the phase plotter, our science team has been able to access some of the Outsiders' deepest secrets...including a full map of their Temple Ship, and where they keep their all-important Mosaic. So today, we'll be capturing the heart of their psionic network - we steal Mosaic for ourselves, and this war is all but won."

As he pulled the suit over his combat fatigues, Silas chose that moment to emerge from the power pack. Carter looked down at the tamed little Silacoid with an inquisitive stare, which the blob of black goo was happy to mirror despite lacking actual eyes. Pulling his attention away from suiting up, he took a moment to reach down and scratch his companion under the "chin", then he took the hat and set it on top of the creature's head. The little Silacoid chirped happily and nuzzled his palm, before slinking back into the little nest with a small chitter. He shook his head, grateful at least for the small distraction before he zipped up the back of his suit.

"When we touch down on the Temple Ship, Strikes One and Five will take point and dig into the hangar, forming a defensive perimeter to keep the Avenger safe from hostiles reacting to our arrival. Strikes Two and Four will assist in a support capacity, whether it be operating the ship's anti-personnel weapons, manning a triage station for wounded agents, or providing reinforcements should the other Strike Teams need to fall back. We don't need to take the hangar - we just need to buy enough time for Strike Three to move deeper into the Temple Ship and capture Mosaic, then return to Earth with our prize."

Right...his team would be responsible for the most important part of the operation. Him and Summer and his usual squad, all alone deep in enemy territory with no backup and no guarantee for success. Not that they had many other options - according to Dresner's research, the signals emitted by Mosaic's source were very similar to those emitted by the alien artifact that had bonded with Carter at the start of the war. In theory, this would allow him to interface with Mosaic, disconnect it from the rest of the psionic network, and pacify it enough to transport back to the Avenger. If it was too big to carry, he always had the option of using his telekinesis to move it...or asking the silver-eyed Huntress to use that Semblance of hers to transport it back to the hangar, though even she had doubts she could move something that large.

It was a plan that was based almost entirely around assumptions, and Carter hated those kinds of plans.

But what other choice did he have?

What other choice did humanity have?

"If we thought the Forge was well-defended, then their Temple Ship's gonna be even worse. How the hell are we getting inside without alerting the whole fleet?"

"The same way they were able to attack us without worrying about the nations of Earth collaborating and mounting a unified counter-attack. We take their communication blackout strategy, and turn it against them."

Questions like his were raised about other logistics regarding the operation during the briefing. Other agents were concerned about things like whether the Temple Ship's life support systems worked for them, or whether there would be artificial gravity, or whether it was okay or not to pee in the suits. None of that concerned Carter as much as the fact that they were practically throwing themselves into a hornet's nest - and despite Weir's assurance that they could stop the capital ship from calling for aid, he knew that the Bureau would be fighting their toughest battle yet.

Carter was about to pull his helmet out of the locker - a big dome of transparent metal that looked better suited for a fishbowl than a critical part of a space suit - when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his torso from behind.

He looked back over his shoulder to see the top of a head with dark hair, black at the base that faded to red by the tips of the bob cut. Although he couldn't see them, he knew that there was a pair of eyes like silver dollars beneath that furrowed brow, eyes that seemed to hold an entire world for him to fall into. She squeezed him tightly around the waist, her lithe yet muscular frame obscured by her own space suit but in no way inhibited. He still wasn't sure what he'd done to earn the affection of the woman from another world...but sometimes, it felt like it wasn't enough.

"You okay, Summer?" he asked, patting her hands with his own.

The woman nodded, brushing her face against his shoulder. "Yeah. It just looked like you needed a hug."

Carter chuckled as he twisted around in her grasp. "I see. Is that your way of asking for one?"

"...maybe."

Another rare laugh managed to escape his lips as he pulled her into an embrace, holding her close and resting his chin on top of her head. She seemed to melt in his arms at the gesture, letting out a soft sigh and squeezing even tighter. When she eventually pulled away, it was with great reluctance, and she kept her hands on his waist as she looked up at him with those shimmering silver pools that seemed to glow with their own inner light.

Beautiful...

"What about you, Will?" she asked softly. "How are you feeling about all this?"

Carter snapped out of his daze and shrugged with a sigh. "It is what it is, but what it is sounds insane. We're taking a flying saucer that we built out of alien scraps, going into a crack in the world to cross the universe in less than two seconds, and stealing some kind of nerve center for the whole enemy communication network to bring back home. This doesn't sound like a plan, it sounds like the kind of story a five-year-old would come up with after a week of watching nothing but Captain Thunderclap and Orbit and the Asteroids. And even setting aside how crazy this all is, the fact that we're going in there with no real idea of what we're doing, and that everyone's counting on me and my alien artifact to pull a new secret out of my ass is just...it's a lot of pressure, and I don't wanna fail anyone again."

He wasn't sure what compelled him to spill his guts like that, but the soft gaze Summer was giving him told him that he'd be glad that he did.

"It is a lot of pressure," she admitted quietly, "and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared either. Nothing like this ever happened back on Remnant...but I believe in you. Faulke believes in you. So if you have trouble believing in yourself...believe that, at least."

Carter nodded as he took one of the silvery gloves off his hand, reaching up to cup Summer's cheek with the newly-exposed palm. She leaned into the touch with a soft smile and blush, wrapping her arms around his waist again and pulling him close. Taking that as a sign to continue, he moved his hand down to under her chin, tilting her face up just enough for him to move in and kiss her.

Warmth flooded his veins, and any unease about the mission seemed to fade as long as her lips were touching his. The kiss was short, chaste, and quick, but it was exactly what they both needed. He pulled away slowly and reluctantly, watching her turn as red as her last name and look up at him with those mirror-like eyes.

"Thanks, Summer," he finally said softly. "I...don't think I could've gotten this far if you hadn't shown up in my room at Groom Range."

Summer's response was cut short by the sound of a gruff, familiar voice.

"Well, shit. No wonder it's taking you two so long to get ready."

Carter immediately swore and looked in the doorway to see the rest of Strike Three gathered there, fully suited up and grabbing weapons. Knox was loading up his trusty M14 with DEAF rounds, Shen was activating the forearm-mounted hardlight shield to make sure it worked properly, Adam was grabbing one of the last fusion lances off the rack, and Dawson was tucking shield spheres and flashbangs into his suit's many pockets with a smug grin.

"You're an army grunt, Knox," growled Carter as he and Summer pulled away from each other in embarrassment. "You should know better than to walk in on your CO having a private chat with his 2IC."

"Pffft, you call that private?" quipped Dawson as he selected a plasma pistol. "I don't think either of you understand what that word means. I don't suppose I'll get a kiss before we go too, huh?"

Summer laughed and shook her head. "Not with your helmet already on. Missed your chance."

Dawson gave a little wail of protest, but laughed.

"Did everyone make sure to use the bathroom before suiting up?" asked Adam half-jokingly. "I didn't see any toilets on the Temple Ship's floor plans, and these suits don't exactly have any convenient zippers…"

"We're boarding an alien ship and that's what you're worried about?" Shen shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, I spent all night studying the layout of this thing. It's incredible...a real marvel of engineering and shipbuilding. I just wish we had more time to study it…"

"Well, you can study it all you want when we make those alien bastards surrender like a bunch of spineless cowards," said Knox as he grabbed a HEAT Launcher. "This Mosaic thing's basically their Ark of the Covenant, right? We steal that, and they're basically done for."

"That's the plan," said Carter, giving his trusty Colt a once-over before holstering it on his hip. "The docs said that gunpowder works in space, right?"

"The bullets contain their own oxidizer," explained Shen. "So yes. Guns will work in space. Plasma would still be our best bet where we're going, though - it's the most damaging weapon type we have, and considering we're marching right into the heart of the enemy, we'll need every advantage we can get."

"Maybe, but there's still something comforting about cold hard lead," said Knox. "And 'sides, you eggheads did a great job with that armor-piercing shit. Be a shame not to use it."

Shen laughed. "Hang on, was that a compliment just now? Did I hear that right?"

"Don't get used to it, kid. I've only got one a day."

The familiar banter between Knox and Shen, the jokes cracked by Adam and Dawson...like Summer's affection before, the attitudes of his teammates helped set Carter's nerves at ease. He knew that these men would walk into fire for him if he asked, and he'd do the same for them.

He pulled a plasma rifle off the rack and pocketed some fusion cells, watching the rest of Strike Three make their selections for what was hopefully the Bureau's final mission. Knox's choice was unsurprising - the same M14 he'd used since Groom Range, along with a HEAT Launcher and a belt of plasma grenades for explosive power. Adam was similarly predictable in his armaments, strapping a Z-62 to his hip and sliding a SCOPE on a fusion lance. Shen and Dawson carefully holstered their plasma pistols before picking their main weapons, with the Engineer taking a Scatter Blaster while the Support unfolded what appeared to be a three-pronged rifle and looked it over.

"Wonder why nobody took the Lightning Gun before me," mused Dawson as the capacitors hummed to life.

"Maybe because it's not technically cleared for field duty?" remarked Knox as he folded up a shock spade and tucked it under his power pack. "And no one else is crazy enough to bring untested shit on a mission as important as this?"

"Aw, but that's the fun part of science! Plus, who wouldn't want to blast electricity everywhere?"

"Christ...you and the Kraut must get along real well."

"Not as well as Vahlen does. Rumor has it that they've been working so well over the war, Dresner invited him back to Germany when this is all over. Even promised the guy his daughter's hand in - "

"All Agents taking part in Operation Vindicator, please make your way to the Avenger now. We are departing in T-minus ten minutes."

Carter took a deep breath, and let it out. "Sounds like the clock's ticking down. Everyone ready to move?"

Summer looked at him as she finished stowing her weapons - a plasma rifle and a ballistic pistol, just like him - and dramatically activated Wandering Thorn, the sword extending and heading up in her hand.

"Ready," she declared, her eyes shining with reflected silver light.

Knox racked back the slide on his rifle. "Ready."

Adam strapped a cloak module to his hip. "Ready, sir."

Shen hefted his pack of explosives and clipped it to his space suit's belt. "Yes."

Dawson grabbed one more medkit, just to be safe. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Carter nodded as he secured his helmet, taking a deep breath as pressurized oxygen hissed into his lungs.

"Then let's go make history, ladies and gentlemen."


From the Avenger's cockpit, Myron Faulke had a full view of Strike Three walking from their armory to the spaceship, ready to join up with the two dozen other Agents who were waiting for them in the cargo hold. He couldn't help but think that if this were a movie, this would be the part where the brave heroes dramatically walked towards the camera as they embarked on their climactic final mission, where a cackling villain and an exploding set were all that stood between them and a happy ending. Of course, this wasn't some cheesy sci-fi serial or a war propaganda piece. This was a real mission with real stakes, one that could go sideways in any number of ways, yet needed to be done if humanity ever wanted a chance to continue living as they always had.

He wasn't alone in the cockpit, either. Angela Weaver stood in her own space suit off to his side, hands balled tightly into fists that shook slightly from barely repressed nerves. Alan Weir stood on his other side in stark contrast, keeping a calm posture yet trembling ever-so-slightly with excitement. And of course, Leon Barnes was sitting in the pilot's seat, with Dolly Richardson serving as his co-pilot on one side and Penelope Cohen acting as the comms operator on the other.

Faulke looked over to Weaver as Strike Three disappeared from view. "I'm certain you have objections to me putting so much faith in them once again."

Weaver looked at him, then sighed. "Actually, for once, I don't have a problem with this. Mostly because we don't have any other options."

Weir looked over at the officer with a knowing smile. "It's alright to admit that you've grown fond of them, Angela. No one would hold that against you."

The leader of Strike One looked down at her boots, cheeks glowing red. "That's...irrelevant. In any case, Strike Three's the last team that needed to board, right? Who else are we waiting on?"

Forcing down a smile at the way Weaver shifted the conversation, Faulke flicked a switch near his collar to turn on the radio of his space suit.

"All operatives taking part in Project Vindicator, please confirm your status."

A variety of callsigns and reports were quickly rattled off, and the Director mentally ticked each voice and name off of the list of operatives in his hand. Normally he wouldn't need to rely on such a crude method as a clipboard and paper, but for an operation of this scale, he couldn't allow clerical oversights. This was the Bureau's first (and hopefully last) mission of this size - thirty active agents, with half that number more in the form of support staff and personnel, were all crammed into a prototype spaceship and expected to do the impossible. A single error in judgement, one small oversight, and humanity's first voyage beyond their solar system would end in failure...as would the hope for a free mankind.

He refused to let that happen.

Once he was certain that everyone was onboard and in position, he nodded. Without waiting for orders, Weir and Weaver both left the cockpit and made their way to their designated stations. Faulke himself elected to remain standing behind Barnes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Part of him knew that he left all his cigarettes behind on purpose, to avoid filling the cabin up with smoke. The rest of him craved one anyway.

"Then let's not keep the Temple Ship waiting. Dresner and Weir, open the Gateway. Big Sky, Firebrand, fire up the engines. All combat teams prepare for deployment on my word. Chulski...keep the base under control until we get back."

"We'll keep the lights on for you, Director," said the Chief Comms operator. "Good luck out there."

"Bringing the engines up to seven percent maximum thrust," reported Barnes.

"Phase plotter is warming up now," announced Weir, "It's communicating with Mosaic...confirming the location of the Temple Ship...we found it. Coordinates are locked in."

"Strikes One, Three, and Five are locked, loaded, and awaiting orders in the cargo hold," declared Weaver.

"Strikes Two and Four are standing by," called Nils.

Dresner's heavily-accented voice finished the stations sounding off. "Gateway is appearing in five...four...three...two…"

The green light of the Avenger's cockpit was bathed in cyan light, as a circular portal of unstable energy appeared above the ship. Just as he had during his test flight, Barnes brought the man-made UFO up slowly and carefully, guiding the ship into the crack in the world. One moment, the Avenger and her crew were deep below the surface of the Earth.

The next, they were in the very depths of outer space.

For a brief second, no one dared to move, speak, or even breathe as they took in the surroundings. The Gateway had seemed to drop them off in some sort of nebula, bathing the Avenger in an ocean of color. Greens, blues, reds, and yellows all swirled in a haze around the ship, which suddenly seemed so much smaller in comparison to the unending void that she now found herself in. Humanity's first true trip to the stars had been like jumping headfirst into the sea...and only now, when they were well and truly lost in its depths, did they realize just how small and insignificant they were compared to this brand new world beyond the worlds.

Dolly was the first to find her voice. "Uh...boss? I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

Barnes laughed nervously. "Damn right about that, girl. I don't think we're even in the Milky Way anymore. Who knows what galaxy we just jumped to?"

"We're not sticking around long enough to find out," said Faulke after marveling at the expansive view. "Weir? How's the phase plotter?"

"Running smoothly without any issues," confirmed the doctor. "I've already got the return coordinates saved and ready to be locked in for the trip back home. We just need to fire it up again when we're ready."

"Excellent. Cohen? Any signals on the psionic network?"

Penny hummed and bit her lower lip as she raised the headset to her ear, fighting the bulk of her spacesuit. "...I'm getting a lot of static and noise over the receivers, so much information that the translators can't make sense of it. We must be so close to the source that our sensors can't handle the bandwidth. But it's definitely picking up something."

"Can you pinpoint where it's coming from, sugar?" asked Dolly.

"Um...let's see…" Penny gave the headset another listen, then blinked a few times. "I'd say...twenty degrees in the starboard direction, and about ten degrees skyward. Er, I mean...whichever way is up."

"I hear you, Penny," said Barnes as he gently pulled on the control sticks. "Welcome to space, ladies and gentlemen. Try not to throw up on the walls."

The Avenger glided smoothly in response to the pilot's guidance, and soon the little spaceship was well on her way through the cosmos. The cloud of gas and stardust hung over them and obscured the endless void beyond. Faulke at first found the nebula comforting and reassuring; as the moments dragged on, he began to have doubts on whether or not they had truly jumped to the correct place.

Fortunately, time dispersed his worries. After just a few minutes of straightforward flying, a massive shape with glowing violet lights began to form in the distance. A few minutes more, and the outline became clearer and more distinct. Each silent moment relieved the Director's unvoiced concerns as the target came closer and closer into view...only to replace them with a new set of concerns.

The ship - if it could even be called that - was absolutely massive. Easily dwarfing the entire continent of Africa, maybe even Asia, it loomed over the Avenger in the void like an elephant overshadowing an ant. While the top half of the vessel was shaped like a smooth segmented teardrop, the bottom half was a jumbled mess of floating panels and upside-down spires. And while it wasn't the only ship that hovered in the nebula, it was certainly the largest, as a fleet of massive UFOs of all shapes and sizes orbited around its hull like planets around a star.

Faulke liked to think of himself as an unshakeable man.

But even he couldn't fight the shiver that raced down his spine as he took in the full view of the Temple Ship.

"The phase plotter's resonating and spinning like an overcharged top, Director," reported Weir. "I think it's trying to communicate with Mosaic."

"Let the connection go through," ordered Faulke. "Cohen? Begin the jamming protocol."

Penny swallowed the lump in her own throat and pried her gaze away from the Temple Ship, busying herself with manipulating switches, levers, and dials on her control panel. Faulke had to suppress a smile despite the circumstances - the focused Engineering Agent that worked the controls was a far cry from the nervous little comms operator he'd originally recruited, and to see so much growth in an operative under his command set his own nerves at ease a little bit. If someone as meek and anxious as Penelope Cohen could develop into someone with the technical knowledge to plunge an alien race into silence, perhaps the Bureau stood a chance to pull this heist off after all.

A moment later, Penny gave a firm nod as the green light blinked softly on her console.

"Jamming active," she said resolutely. "We should have about two hours before the other ships begin to suspect us."

"All the time in the world," said Barnes with an affirming nod. "Where are we landing, Doc?"

"According to the schematics, there should be docking bays all along the perimeter of the Temple Ship," responded Weir. "You're going to be looking for an opening on the port side of the hull, halfway between the gunwale and the stern. That dock is the closest one to the central hallway - and it's a straight shot to Mosaic from there. Forwarding the details to your HUD now."

Faulke watched as holographic shapes danced across the cockpit's visor, pinpointing a small opening that almost went unnoticed amidst the complex jungle of machinery and mechanisms. Barnes gave an affirmative grunt, then guided the Avenger towards the designated area slowly and carefully. As the small ship came closer to the monolithic vessel, its already-imposing figure became even more intimidating and overwhelming...especially when Faulke caught sight of four skyscraper-sized cannons lining the top and bottom edges of the rectangular docking bay.

As soon as the Avenger was about to approach the opening, however, a pair of bulkheads slammed shut, denying them entry.

Barnes hesitated. "Uh...boss? That supposed to happen?"

"Probably not." Faulke looked over to Penny. "Cohen?"

"We're getting a message through the psionic network. Like I said, it's hard to parse, but...I think it's asking us for identification."

"Shit. Don't tell me the aliens have fucking airport security too."

Faulke didn't hear Dolly's remark - his eyes were focused on the massive cannons, which seemed to be moving and glowing.

Almost as if they were aiming for…

"Evasive maneuvers. Now!"

The pilot veered the Avenger to the right just as the Temple Ship's weapons came to life in massive beams of emerald energy, narrowly missing the ship's port side. Barnes let out a constant stream of curses as he banked in every possible direction, trying to avoid the deadly plasma-powered rays of destruction. The cannons swiveled on their joints and tracked the Avenger with terrifying precision, even managing to score glancing blows across the hull and leaving scars of molten metal. It was only thanks to Barnes's exceptional skill that the shots didn't do any more damage, but as the seconds ticked by, it became clear that flying defensively wouldn't last forever.

"We need a way inside!" shouted Barnes as he juked to avoid yet another salvo of energy.

Dolly grit her teeth. "Doc, please tell me you gave this thing some weapons!"

Weir, by contrast, sounded characteristically calm. "There's an array of front-facing Blaster Launchers mounted on the bow. Use those to blow open the bulkheads. If one payload was enough to penetrate the Forge wall…"

"...then all six at once should be enough to blow open a hole in this thing," grinned Dolly. "Big Sky, keep her steady for a sec! I'll launch the bombs once you give me a clear shot!"

"I'll do what I can, but if we stay still for too long we're done for!"

Nils's voice came through the radios next. "Strike Two's in position at the top-mounted guns! We'll try to destroy a few of those cannons with the turrets! Should give you some breathing room, and we can use them while you're moving!"

"That'd be greatly appreciated, Tango-Two. Fire away!"

Faulke watched as balls of plasma streaked past the Avenger's visor, splashing against the cannons in waves of green flame. Despite the impressive firepower, the sheer size and density of the Temple Ship's guns made even that seem ineffective and useless.

"Dammit!" growled Massey, "Armor on the guns is too thick!"

"Target the joints!" called Penny into the radio. "Don't aim for the barrels themselves - aim for the little support struts underneath them!"

Sure enough, as Faulke looked closer, he could see a set of hefty-looking pistons under each cannon, pushing with ungodly amounts of force to move the main barrel into position. Strike Two didn't hesitate in switching targets, sending their plasma blasts crashing into the comparatively smaller components. Despite being made of the same material as the cannon barrels themselves, the joints had much less mass and armoring - and thus, melted far more easily in the face of superheated gas.

A cascade of explosions rocked the base of the top-left cannon as more plasma poured in, resulting in the barrel tearing away and floating into space. The beam sputtered once more, then fizzled out.

"Hell yeah, that's the ticket!" whooped Massey.

"Good eye, Pepper!" Nils cheered. "Alpha-Two, keep targeting the top one with me! Echo and Charlie, start working on the bottom guns!"

"Copy that, sir!"

"Of course, dear."

"Mm-hmm."

With the weak point exposed thanks to Penny's observation, the gunners made short work of the remaining cannons. Massey and Nils coordinated their fire to neutralize the top-right cannon with impressive speed, while Walters and Crawford began softening up the bottom two targets. When the second point defense gun fell, Barnes felt confident enough to come closer to the base of each weapon, allowing all four Agents to open fire at once and destroy the cannons in salvos of plasma.

"All cannons eliminated!" called Nils.

"That's what I like to hear!" Despite the danger, Faulke could tell Barnes was grinning. "Dolly? You got those Blaster Launchers charged up yet?"

"Charged and ready to fire on your word!"

"Gimme one sec to reposition...now!"

Dolly slammed the button on her console, and the entire ship buckled as six enormous orbs of unstable energy drifted lazily through space. Each destructive payload picked up speed as it traveled forward, eventually becoming little more than streaks of green light that impacted with the side of the Temple Ship's bulkhead. The result was instantaneous - a flare of plasma the size of Texas lit up the nebula, and if space wasn't a vacuum, Faulke was almost certain the Avenger would have been knocked away in a colossal, deafening explosion.

After a brief moment of fire and soundless fury, the flames cleared, and an opening in the bulkhead was visible to everyone.

"We have our entrance," reported Barnes in relief.

"Just like Pa always used to say," grinned Dolly, "When one door closes, choose a nearby wall and blast it open."

"Focus up, this was the easy part," said Faulke. "Take us in, Barnes. All combat teams, prep for deployment. We're coming in hot."

"Strikes One, Three, and Five are already on standby," reported Weaver. "Get us inside, and we'll head out as soon as the ramp goes down."

"Understood. Good luck out there."

As the Avenger zoomed towards the newly-made entrance, Faulke wondered if all the luck in the world would even make a difference here.

For the sake of the human race, it had to.


Summer tightened her grip on Wandering Thorn with one hand, the other one squeezing tightly to Carter's gloved palm. The sound of pressurized oxygen filled her ears, each breath she took accompanied by a hiss and the faint smell of cleaning solution. Despite the thickness of the space suits she and everyone else was wearing, she could still feel Carter running his thumb along her knuckles, doing his best to reassure her even as his other hand clasped tightly to his pistol.

She could tell she wasn't the only one who was tense. The members of Strikes One, Three, and Five were all crammed into the cargo bay alongside her, hands on their weapons as they waited for the call to go. Van Doorn stood at the very front flanked by the Mucallins, hefting a rotary plasma cannon alongside the redheaded husband-and-wife duo. Briggs, Bradford, and Diaz formed a column on Summer's left, while Max, Zhedrev, and a Commando named Holt did the same on the right. Finally, Weaver and Loveday took up the rear, sniper rifles already sighted and ready to take out distant targets.

Loveday let out a forced chuckle. "Bunch of troops all crammed together on an untested vehicle, waiting for the ramp to drop and let us out into enemy territory...this really is just like Normandy, eh Briggs?"

The other British veteran grumbled. "Again...you and I remember Normandy very differently. Though I'll admit...this part feels familiar, at least."

"It will be different this time," said Van Doorn confidently. "Not only are we better armed than we were back then, we have more at stake. We won't lose. We can't lose."

Weaver nodded. "Soon as the ramp drops, I want the front Commandos to pop their shields while the Supports set up defenses. Engineers lob their explosives, side Commandos lead their teams in a pincer movement, and Recons drop any specialist units in sight before they can use their toys. Tango-Two, I'm counting on you and your Strike to use the Avenger's turrets to lay down suppressive fire, and to deal with any mechanized defenses."

"You got it, Alpha-One. Big Sky just cleared the breach. We're in the belly of the beast now."

"Then let's give these blighters the worst case of indigestion they've ever seen," said Jackie with a grin.

Alfred laughed. "Hah! Well said, lass. Knew there was a reason I married ye."

"Oh, is that right? Is that the only reason? 'cause I can think of two honkin' big ones."

"Aye, but that goes without sayin', it does."

The ripple of laughter that echoed through the hold set Summer's nerves at ease just a little bit. If they were still making jokes despite the seriousness of the situation, then maybe things weren't so grim. Maybe they had a chance.

She looked around at Strike Three huddled around her and Carter. "Do you want us to help you set up the safe zone before we move in?"

Weaver shook her head beneath her domed helmet. "That won't be necessary, Sierra. Your job is to jet up to the catwalks as soon as you have an opening, and push through to the central hallway. You can take shots at the troops in the hangar if you want, but save most of your ammo and supplies for the road. You'll need them for the fight ahead of you - you're going after Mosaic, after all."

"She's right," said Carter, "If this thing's really as important as our alien captive says it is, then the Outsiders will be guarding it to the death. We need to make sure we don't get locked down in extended firefights - the longer we take to grab Mosaic and exfiltrate, the longer the folks here have to sit and fight for their lives."

"So move fast, strike hard, and get out," affirmed Weaver. "We'll buy you as much time as we can. Just don't waste it."

Summer opened her mouth to thank Weaver, to thank everyone for what they were doing for her and her team to have this chance, but the sound of Barnes crackling over the suit's radios interrupted her.

"We're coming in for a landing! Outsiders have already formed a defensive perimeter, and are opening fire! Ramp is dropping in five...four...three...two…"

The pneumatics within the wall in front of Summer hissed and let off steam, dropping the slab of alien alloys to the ground with an unceremonious thud. Her silver eyes barely had time to take in the sight of the docking bay - which seemed to be big enough to house the entirety of Beacon's expansive courtyard - before the plasma started flying and splashing against the back of the Avenger. A quick glance across the room revealed dozens of hostile aliens opening fire in coordinated volleys; Sectoids, Drones, and even Mutons hunkered down behind cover that pivoted into position, accompanied by platoons of Outsider in full suits of ornate golden-red armor. Automated turrets hung from the walls and ceiling, twin-barreled devices adding their endless fire to the barrage of green raining down on XCOM like a monsoon of death.

"Go go go go go!" yelled Weaver, already lining up an armor-piercing shot with her Springfield and capping a Muton. Van Doorn and the Mucallins were quick to comply, forming a wall of hard light shields as they advanced with mighty war cries. Summer, Carter, and the rest of Strike Three kept in step with the charging Commandos, watching as balls of plasma splashed against the blue-white barriers and dissipated. The silver-eyed Huntress tracked the other troops in the corner of her eye, watching as they took advantage of the diversion and slipped into more defensible positions. She drew her plasma rifle and fired a few shots at exposed enemies, but she tried to limit how much ammo she used. As much as she wanted to pop a syringe and dart around the battlefield like a true Huntress, she knew she had to save her strength and her ammo for what was ahead.

The docking bay soon became a mess of green plasma, magenta smoke, and blue alien blood. Explosives thrown by the Engineers and flanking Commandos boomed in deafening choruses, breaking up formations of enemy troops and destroying their makeshift cover. With some of the pressure on the shield-bearing Commandos easing up, it gave them a chance to run to cover and stow their barriers, drawing their massive gatling weapons and spinning them up as they prepared to lay down barrages of plasma. Massive green balls of flame flew over Summer's head and crashed into Mutons and heavily-armored Outsiders, vaporizing them on the spot with flesh-melting blasts.

"This is your best chance to get up to that catwalk and get moving, Whiskey!" called Van Doorn as he stepped out of cover to fire his rotary plasma cannon. "Don't worry about us - we're not going down without a fight!"

"I'd be insulted if you did," said Carter, looking up at the platform that hung over the battlefield. "Warm up your jets, Strike Three - we're going up!"

Summer nodded and toggled the thrusters on her jetpack, kicking off the floor with both feet and leaping into the air while propelled by blue flames. She couldn't hold back the giggle that rose from her throat as she ascended, nor could she contain her laughter at hearing the confused screams of Knox and Adam as they rocketed up after her. With a grin and a flourish, she landed perfectly on the catwalk, cooling her jets and sweeping the new area for contacts. Carter and Shen landed just after her, followed by Dawson making a somewhat-clumsy landing alongside the Commando and Recon.

"Jesus, those things have some kick," grumbled Knox.

"Can we never do that again?" gasped Adam.

Dawson grinned. "Come on, it's not that bad. I kinda liked it."

"Look alive!" called Shen, drawing his plasma pistol. "Enemies closing in!"

Sure enough, a half-dozen Outsiders rocketed up to the platform on jets of their own, opening fire on the intruders with plasma rifles. Without even saying a word, Carter telekinetically flung two of them with bone-breaking force, smashing their bodies against the wall before dropping to one knee and deploying his own energy shield to protect the squad. Squatting behind their leader, Strike Three wordlessly went to work; Dawson and Shen used their pistols to bring down a third Outsider, Knox and Summer coordinated rifle fire to riddle the fourth with bullets and plasma, and Adam delivered a precision shot with his fusion lance that left the fifth trooper without a head. The final Outsider didn't last much longer - Carter stood up and used his power again, this time dragging the lone trooper close enough for Summer to draw Wandering Thorn and slash it in half.

"Nice hustle," said Carter as he let the azure light fade from his hands. "There's gonna be more ambushes like that as we move in, though. Keep your heads on swivels, and let's go."

The squad nodded as they followed Carter down the catwalk, keeping an eye out for more enemies jumping to intercept them. The thrumming of alien weaponry and defenses pounded through the artificial air, loud enough that Summer could still hear it even through her glass helmet. As more and more Outsiders and Mutons poured into the hangar to repel the boarders, she couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty at the idea of leaving her friends in the Bureau to fight this battle all on their own. A quick glance over to Shen revealed that he was similarly conflicted.

Once they were clear of the catwalk and close to a door, Shen crouched low and started fiddling with his Venn Brace. "Go ahead and get ready to breach. I'm going to try something."

Carter tilted his head, but didn't protest. "Whatever you're doing...do it fast."

"Won't take long," said the Engineer as he pushed a few buttons. "Just doing a little trick Weir taught me. Should be seeing results right about...now."

The turrets that were belching fire at the XCOM Agents and the Avenger suddenly shuddered and seized up, locking their joints as electricity crackled over them. Then an instant later they came to life once more, pivoting in place and resuming their fire...only this time they were targeting the aliens that once commanded them.

"There we go." Shen smiled as he stood back up. "Alpha-One, be advised - I've hacked the automated defenses to fight for you, instead of against you. I don't know how long my override will be active, but that should at least take some of the pressure off you for a bit."

"...much appreciated, Romeo-Three. Now get moving."

Carter nodded in approval to Shen. "Stay safe out there, Weaver."

"You too, Carter. Hurry back."

With a nod to the rest of the squad, Carter slammed a button next to the door, making it hiss as it slid open. Predictably, a barrage of plasma waited for them on the other end, courtesy of an Outsider firing squad and two Mutons, but a well-timed shield sphere from Dawson kept Strike Three safe. A kinetic blast from Knox's shock spade scattered the Outsiders and sent the Mutons staggering back, one of the armored brutes walking straight into a headshot from Adam while the other stepped on a landmine that Shen slid underfoot. Weakened by the explosive charge, the remaining Muton barely had time to react before Summer and Carter opened fire with their own plasma rifles, turning the alien warrior into a puddle of radioactive green goop that sank into the floor.

"Firing squad is getting back up!" reported Knox as he pulled out his rifle. "Suppressing!"

"Hang on a sec, Kilo! I got this!"

Everyone looked to Dawson as he pulled the lightning gun off his back, which hummed to life as soon as he unfolded it and pulled the trigger. Sparks began to jump between the three prongs at the front of the rifle-like weapon, before a beam of pure concentrated electricity blasted from the tip and struck the lead Outsider on the chest. The alien trooper convulsed and screamed as the high voltage tore through armor and flesh, the excess current jumping from its body to the nearby Outsiders in bright flashing arcs. By the time the Support finally eased off of the trigger, four smoking corpses fell to the floor in heaps of charred ashes, disintegrating as soon as they hit the alien steel.

Dawson let out a low whistle, and ejected a burning battery. "Now that's what I call 'lightning in a bottle.'"

"Christ," said Knox, shaking his head in disbelief. "Hard to believe that the techs were just sitting on that the whole war."

"We weren't sure if it was practical or ethical," said Shen. "You can probably guess why. Just watch your ammo supply, Golf - that thing chews through power cells like they're potato chips."

The Support groaned, but switched back to his pistol nonetheless. With one gesture from Carter, Summer led the squad down the hallway past the corpses and grisly signs of battle, leaving a trail with Wandering Thorn in the wall to mark the way they came.

"Where are we going, doc?" called Carter over the radio as the team sprinted down the halls.

"You're in the maintenance halls right now, under the hydroponics labs," answered Weir. "Go straight ahead about five hundred feet, then take a right and go another twenty. You should find a gravwell that'll take you to the central hallway - and that will take you to the Mosaic Holding Chamber, where you'll hopefully find what we came here for."

"'Hopefully?'" asked Adam as he brought up the rear, sweeping his machine pistol left and right while backpedaling to keep pace. "What, are they using the Mosaic Holding Chamber for something else besides holding Mosaic?"

"We can't know for certain until you get there," responded the good doctor, "but I have faith in you. Keep moving, William - I'll guide you there from inside the Avenger."

"Appreciate the vote of confidence, doctor," said Carter as he fired on an Outsider that tried to ambush them as they turned the corner. "I think I see that gravwell thing. We just step into it to go up?"

"Correct. Hope you didn't have too much borscht last night."

Summer didn't even wait for the order before she ran and leapt into the open vertical shaft, feeling her stomach flutter in her chest as she soared up on an anti-gravity current. Carter was right behind her, as were Dawson and Shen. Knox and Adam yelled and cursed as they brought up the rear, flying behind the squad and landing at the top floor with significantly less coordination than their peers.

"Y'all just love taking me out of my comfort zone, don't you?" grumbled Knox.

"That's what makes life exciting!" said Dawson with a laugh. He sighted the door ahead of them. "Standard breaching protocol, boss?"

Carter closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, then nodded. "Nothing but Sectoids and Outsider grunts on the other side. Lead off with a flash this time, then we'll mow them down as we move in. This leads to that central hallway that Weir mentioned, so there won't be much cover for us - but that also means that if we catch the aliens flat-footed, we can take them out easily. Everyone ready?"

Summer twirled Wandering Thorn eagerly, while Knox unfolded his shock spade again. Shen drew his Scatter Blaster, Adam thumbed his cloak module, and Dawson pulled out a flashbang. With a wordless nod, Carter hit the button again, and shielded his eyes just before the bright flash of light.

"Move in!"

The aliens screamed as the flashbang went off in their midst, flailing and rubbing their eyes. This gave Summer and Knox the perfect opportunity to charge in with sword and shovel, cutting open throats and caving in skulls with force and precision. Carter and Dawson gave the pair some covering fire with their pistols, while Shen cleared out entire swaths of enemies with wide blasts of red light. When the final Outsider finally shook off the effects of the stun grenade, a glint of light from a distant corner preceded a lance of emerald energy that burned through its head; Adam decloaked a moment later, snapping a fresh fusion cell into his alien sniper rifle.

Once the immediate threat was neutralized, Summer finally let herself look around at the central hallway - though calling it a hallway seemed like an understatement. Indeed, the area absolutely dwarfed the spacious docking bay in size and scale, wide enough that she believed it could have three Goliaths stand shoulder-to-shoulder and still have room to swing their trunks. And if the width of the central hallway wasn't imposing enough, the length of it certainly was. Despite the fact that the walls and floor were glowing with familiar Zudjari panel lines, the far ends of the hall disappeared into darkness, and the ceiling stretched up so high its own lights resembled little more than stars.

"God damn…" breathed Knox. "You could probably fly one of those old B-29's in here without worrying about clipping a wing. Just how big is this damn ship?"

"This hallway runs the length of the Temple Ship, according to the schematics," said Shen. "So...very big."

"Which means we gotta move fast if we want to get to Mosaic," said Carter. "Reload and let's - "

"Incoming! Two Muton Elites coming down right on top of you!"

Adam's alert over the radio made everyone snap back to attention, scrambling backwards as a pair of red-armored brutes suddenly dropped to the ground with enough force to dent the floor. The Mutons let out low growls as they stood up straight, jetpacks burning with embers as they sized up the enemy invaders.

Summer's hand instinctively went towards the switches on her hip that triggered the stimulants. She looked over at Carter, who seemed to have the same idea.

"How long do those things last again?" he asked.

"About thirty seconds, give or take," answered Summer.

"Then let's make it count. Everyone, suppress that left Muton! Sierra and I will take the one on the right."

Taking a deep breath of pressurized air, Summer undid the safety lock and flicked the first of three switches, feeling that familiar stab of pain as the suit's internal needle fed the venom into her veins. The pain was quickly replaced with a warm glow as Aura surged through her, white rose petals swirling around her in nonexistent winds. As Knox, Shen, and Dawson opened fire on one of the well-armored brutes, Summer vanished and reformed above the second, firing on the Muton Elite with her plasma rifle and teleporting behind the brute when it raised its cannon to retaliate.

She leapt out of a cloud of petals and slashed at the Muton's back, channeling her Aura into the blade to amplify its cutting power to the point where she could slice through the armor like soft cheese. The armored brute roared and turned to retaliate, but a telekinetic shove knocked it off balance long enough for Summer to make another leaping slash, this one targeting the throat. While the first cut wasn't deep enough to kill, it left a sizable gash, and weakened the Muton enough to make it drop its gatling-like gun. Carter and Summer soon fell into a comfortable rhythm of alternating attacks against the target, locking the Muton Elite in a perpetual cycle of telekinetic blasts and teleporting slashes until the armor was finally weakened enough for the final blow. The Huntress rematerialized high above the alien and propelled herself into a downward stab with her jetpack, driving Wandering Thorn into its gullet and finishing it off with one final twist of her sword.

With one Muton Elite down in less than fifteen seconds, she darted over to the other brute and drove her sword into its calf. With a twist of the blade, the Muton roared in pain; another twist, and the beast was forced to kneel.

"Whiskey! Gun!"

Carter nodded and used his telekinesis to pick up the discarded rotary plasma cannon, thrusting it into Summer's arms and giving her a chance to jam the barrel under the chin of the Muton Elite. With a warrior's cry she held the trigger down until heat bled into her gloves, enveloping the alien brute's skull in a torrent of plasma that burned through everything. By the time the power cell in the cannon finally ran dry, there was nothing left of the head on the advanced Muton. Only a melted neck stump that filled the air with the smell of burning ozone.

As the last Muton Elite fell backwards, the rest of Strike Three just stared. Summer grinned as she leaned on the now-empty plasma cannon for support.

"What's wrong, boys? Never seen a lady turn into flowers before?"

Dawson just shook his head. "Not since grad school, no. And even then I'm pretty sure I was just sleep deprived."

"God damn, woman, that was somethin' else," said Knox with a low whistle, "Are all Remnant girls this crazy?"

"Not all of them," said Summer with a grin. "Just the best ones."

Shen smiled. "Well in that case...I'm quite glad we got you, Summer."

Her good mood was immediately ruined by the stimulant wearing off, and her Aura vanishing once again. She doubled over as exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks, but fortunately Carter was right there to catch her.

"You good, Sierra?" he asked.

She nodded, letting her boyfriend help her back to her feet. "Y-yeah. Just gotta keep the crash in mind. It's like eating too much sugar, y'know?"

"Well, with any luck, you won't have to worry about that again," said Carter. "Everyone take a sec to reload and check your supplies, then we move as soon as Sierra gets her breath back. Understood?"

Summer looked into those steel-blue eyes, the ones that held so much conviction and confidence when it came to leading a squad, and felt part of her exhaustion already fade.

"Understood, sir. I'll be ready in just a sec."

Carter nodded, then gently set her down as he swept the area with his rifle, though it didn't escape her notice that he kept sneaking glances her way to make sure she was alright. Nor did she fail to notice how, once she got her breath back, he made sure to stay close to her, keeping a gloved hand over hers just like back in the cargo bay.

It was little gestures like that which made Carter - and Earth - fighting for.

And nothing was going to change that.


Now this was curious. Very curious.

In the millenia since the Zudjari had abandoned their homeworld, they had conquered many planets. The space faring species had fought many races, subjugated many forms of life, and toppled many civilizations. Some of them, like the Sectoids, had the sense to surrender when faced with defeat, and were given a place among the conquerors as they built their empire among the stars. Many others proved more resilient. They were not given such an honor.

Yet...he had never actually seen any of these races or species before. Not with his own eyes, at least. Mosaic connected him and his people on a far deeper level, so he could see their memories of conflict. But he had not gone with the armies for their battles - he was too important to travel to other worlds, delegating the conquest instead to his Shipmasters. So although he was familiar with the many, many wars his people had fought, he had never seen the enemy himself.

Until now, that is.

He sat in his throne, tapping his clawed fingers against the crystalline armrest, filling the chamber with the sound of steel digging lightly into ceramic. His attendants seemed nervous as he stared up at the images being projected around him, images that displayed bipedal hairless creatures in silver armor emerging from a spaceship and opening fire on his people with energy weapons. The technology was crude and inefficient, and their ship was a pale imitation of Zudjari engineering, yet here they were all the same. The first alien race to set foot on the Temple Ship in thousands of stellar cycles, and they were here entirely on their own accord.

He hummed. "Tell me again," he drawled patiently. "What is this species?"

The nearest attendant shuddered. "A-according to the memories of the late Axis - may he rest in Mosaic eternally - these creatures are called...humans. They're the reason that the invasion in Cluster Four-Seven-Seven-Nine has failed thus far - they seem to be able to reverse-engineer our technology, and have been using it to fight back."

Another hum. "They are certainly not the first to do so. Doubtless they will be the last. So how did they get here, I wonder? What is different about these humans that…"

His own idle musings caught in his throat as he saw a group of humans in the central hallway, one of whom seemed capable of throwing and manipulating things with their own two hands. While such ability wasn't unusual - many species had developed their own ways of controlling gravity in a localized area - the way that their hands glowed with azure light during the process piqued his interest. He sifted through the memories within Mosaic, looking for other examples of humans doing that particular feat with that same glow, and found only one such specimen capable of doing so...one that seemed to have been spearheading the resistance against the Zudjari since nearly the beginning of that campaign.

"...curious," he hummed once again.

His attendants seemed nervous. "What should we do about this?" asked one, speaking for their cowed associates.

He tapped his fingers against the throne a little more. "Continue to offer minimal resistance for the group that travels the Temple Ship's spine. Let them advance, but wear them down and weaken their resolve. When they are at their lowest, fall back. I will deal with this."

The Zudjari attendant bowed in understanding, then retreated, once more giving him a chance to process the abundance of information flowing into his mind. He tilted his head as he studied the humans, watching their moves and humming in fascination.

There was a presence that clung to that human at the front of the group.

A presence that Origin was very familiar with.


(A/N): And that's a wrap for this part of the mission! Gonna pump the brakes here so I don't end up with another 20k word monster on my hands. Next chapter should hopefully wrap up the story mission, and then we can get into the BIG TWIST™ that I know you're all dying to see how I handle.

Thanks for tuning in, hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you all next time!