Chapter 3: Icy Questions

(Bradford's POV)

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. The steady, pacing footfalls of Central Officer Bradford as he found his path through the maze like winding corridors of the Avenger. It was almost uncanny to think, after so many months of Inhabiting the enclosed space, the Middle aged Old Man of Xcom as he was referred to by the young, idealistic troops – could still get lost within the vast bowels of the former Alien craft. He could see it now, Vipers, Mutons, Berserkers, Sectoids – all milling about their day as they walked the length and breadth of these halls – who's ceilings were big enough to accommodate even the larger Advent MEC's and Andromedons. It made him shudder, made him sick to his stomach that such a very thing could be a possibility again – with their unwelcome guest within one of the cargo holds, freezing her scales off.

"Someone doesn't look Happy" Said a familiar, gruff – albeit well spoken British voice, as the Olive clad Xcom operative entered from whatever dark shadow he'd been concealing himself within. A heavily scarred, haggard face Bradford had gotten to know all too well, given the fact he was one of the longest serving Veterans within the Resistance – though that was mostly due to the fact he'd made it past his early Thirties. "You don't know the half of it, Smith. The Commander's got me on Babysitting duty for a Viper Prisoner." Bradford's voice was solemn, yet resolute in his duty – He didn't like the idea of an alien on board – But wouldn't go against the Commander's orders. The Hooded face of Smith would've darkened as his own boots clicked against the floor – more soft of foot than the bulky Bradford "A Snake? Here? After all they've done to us?" His demeanour was tense as his shoulders hinged upward slightly "Remind me to pay it a visit" Smith's fists clenched in a silent brooding anger.

Bradford released a long, exacerbated sigh, He knew Smith's history, he shouldn't have mentioned it – but he did. Idiot – he scolded himself silently as the pair rounded a nearby corner "Aye, Orders are to pull whatever useful intelligence it has. From there on out – Your Guess is as good as mine to the Commander's intentions". He left it at that as they entered into the "Holding Cell" that Bradford had the Engineers hastily cobble together in the few hours before the Skyranger's return to the Avenger. It would do, for now at least – but even he could feel a pang of pity for the Viper as to the chill of the room, and he was all too aware of Smith's entry alongside him.

(Viper's POV)

The Viper's mind was assailed by many things after her captors had shoved her into what could only be described as an Icebox of a room that chilled the Serpentine to her very bones. The folding bed was pitifully small, even if she crammed herself onto it – more than half of her tail flopped out onto the cold metal floor – further sapping what energy it could from her. The Thin blanket also doing very little to alleviate or insulate her from the cold seeping in. She was shaking, Violently. And the sudden hiss of the door sliging open – to the sight of two men. Two grizzled looking men – One standing with an air of authority, Greying brown hair and an olive jumper, a Combat knife being most present upon his chest rig. And the Other, Hooded, dressed in Olive green Combat armour, like the other Xcom fighters. He was harder to read, behind a stoic mask that veiled a torrent of emotions below the surface. Kitty and Domino – the two kinder ones stood sharply from their peculiar little game, saluting the pair as they entered. "At Ease" Bradford spoke, routinely "You two go get some rest. We'll take over from here." The Old man of Xcom's words were not a request – they were an order – and Domino and Kitty quickly exfiltrated the walk in freezer that encompassed the holding cell. Abandoning the Alien to her fate – with Domino looking back onto the pitiful alien with some remorse.

The Darker tinted Viper reared up and approached the Cell bars, being regarded coldly by Bradford as he fixated her with a hard stare. "Remind me when we lost our compassion, Bradford? It's a bloody Ice cube in here." The Hooded one, was first to break the tense silence as the crimson eyed Viper stared down the Brown eyed Bradford – a voice akin to that 'Chives' man who had regarded her with such utter contempt before – yet it was much more rounded, refined – and most of all, it was calm without a tinge of malice in it. Lighthearted maybe as the Viper fixed him with a hard stare. She was frightened, that much was true – fearful for her life, what would happen to her – even if she did escape. Bradford fixed the man with a hard stare, of whom headed out of the room – perhaps taking the hint that he wasn't wanted.

With his companion out of the way, Bradford slowly slid a chair along the floor, and set it down with the back facing the serpentine, parking his rear upon it with a slight jostling sound as his equipment moved with him, yet his eyes never moved, never wavered from her...thoughts flashed through her mind as to the man's cold, calculative demeanour..he was going to torture her, wasn't he? The cold…that is what they were using to torture her, to prise some answers from her – all the while a thumping headache bore down on the Viper. She hissed in a low sigh, before the man spoke once again "Tell us what you know." He began, only to be met with silence.

(Smith's POV)

A Viper...god above the sight of the damned creature still breathing in his presence made his blood run cold. How Bradford agreed to bothering to question the damn thing had left the thirty-eight year old Operative shaking his head in dismay as the steady booted footfalls sounded on the metalled floor below. Rumours were already abound on the Avenger of the Alien on board – what they would do with it. This wasn't like the initial invasion – where Xcom had access to the greatest minds, soldiers and engineers to build containment areas – no. This was an underground, guerrilla cell that was at best considered a terrorist organisation – and with good reason. The very fact that the Commander had Shen and Bradford cobble together such an impromptu – and what he would call, Inhumane – cell to hold the creature in. It had shaken his resolve. The strategist in Smith told him any advantage gained by interrogating the creature would be worth it, while the distinctly Human element within boiled with a searing rage and contempt. In fact it was taking a considerable amount of his willpower to suppress his sheer and unequivocal anger, that the Commander would first – put them all at risk to capture a live alien, exposing sheer amounts of sensitive data to a mind that couldn't ever be trusted…Smith found that out the hard way when he was younger. And against his better judgement as he walked, found himself drawn into a long, unhealed memory.

Six Years Ago – Phoenix, Former United States of America

The Operation was meant to be a simple in and out – Grab the VIP, Leave quickly before ADVENT interceptors arrived – your typical Smash and Grab. There they all were, such young, innocent faces that deserved their world back. The Four Smith siblings...his younger siblings – who'd garnered quite a reputation from the Resistance as being a highly adaptable, cohesive unit – quite unlike the untrained rabble that comprised most of the other resistance cells. They'd been scouted and recruited into Xcom just a few months prior, and already were among Bradford's go to choices for a balanced operation – requiring just the right mix of stealth and aggression...and here they were, having slid down the guide rope of the Skyranger and into the city below...their faces...Laura, the second Eldest, her long Brown-Blonde hair tied back in a neat ponytail, a Shotgun in both hands and a blade across her back. Then Thomas, the Third child – His face masked by a hood and a bandanna shrouding his nose and mouth, a Cannon in both arms, and an old grenade launcher over his back. And lastly, Emily. The earliest of the Gremlin Mk.1's hovering earnestly over her shoulder, and a rifle in her hands...and lastly, him – a revolver on his hip, and his Sniper Rifle...Vespid he'd called it after the snake skin pattern he'd spent time coating on it in a telltale olive green. Idiot, who names their guns anyway? Edgy teens and children…

The Operation had proven to be a complete dud, a Decoy used to draw out resistance operatives...and he and the others found themselves cornered in a local shopping mall. Stuck in desperate battle with ADVENT peacekeepers. Hypersonic rounds slung over his head, one grazing his cheek...and then the Vipers arrived, Two leashed Tom and Laura with their tongues, and with only ruthless grace capable of being executed – bound them in their coils with a menacing hiss...their cries of pain as they struggled feebly...they made him want to be sick. He was pinned down, unable to move, unable to return fire, all the while more and more rounds hammered against his elevated position. There Must've been at least two dozen of them...and Emily...She was not ten meters from him, tears slinging down his face in an endless cascade "I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die!" she wailed, over and over and over...and he was only faintly aware of the wounds that had pierced her armour. This is how it would end...why did he have to bring them with him?! They should be safe, somewhere else, not here...he'd failed his promise to Dad, made in the Unification war...He'd protect them...and now here they were, dying – with him powerless to stop it. Feeble Revolver shots fired out from behind the wall which he cowered so eagerly behind, garnering a few gurgles and cries of pain from the Peacekeepers...A defiant last stand.

He wouldn't break. They wouldn't break him, they wouldn't break his family...Laura and Tom had gone silent...and Emily's cries were ruthlessly cut short by an ADVENT Stun Lancer's baton...He was the last one..Retrieving a grenade from his belt, and yanking the pin, he lobbed the heavy metal object after counting to two, right into the middle of the peacekeepers...silencing three of them, and in that moment, he could see the Vipers finally release the limp bodies of his siblings...cold, merciless predators...He felt fear, and a chilly wanton for furious retribution...he needed to make their sacrifice count...but even that didn't stop the overwhelming pangs of loss that assailed him. He'd mourn them later. His mind closed off, and blatant logic retained it. He was situated in a superior position on the third floor, over the Advent troopers, There were only two stairwells, both on opposite sides of the floor, and he wasn't sure about through the back rooms. Advent troopers were fortunately stupid, so would probably stick to the two stairwells...Lowering himself onto his belly, he slowly edged his way out from behind the wall, and set his rifle down on it's bipod...this would work, all the while the ADVENT troopers continued to sling suppressing fire at his position, well over his head.

He held out on his own, for three hours – with those three hours feeling like a lifetime apart. Conservative with ammunition as he felled trooper after trooper, alien after alien with his trusty rifle. When that run dry – He had his revolver, and his combat knife, which he likewise, remained conservative with...It took the Resistance that long to get a team of twenty fighters to get to him, and what they found looked like a scene of a massacre. Fifty lay dead – Mostly Advent troopers, a few officers, A handful of Vipers and Sectoids, mostly piled up on the Stairwells. When they approached what they considered his position, they found him, his armour and the flesh beneath seared by Plasma, a dead viper slumped next to him, having resorted to a brutal melee with the human – leaving two distinctive fang marks upon his right shoulder. Raising his revolver feebly towards the approaching soldiers, his hands shaking, threatening to drop the revolver...he had only three shots left by his estimate, all the while his exhausted vision fought against passing out with tenacity only a human was capable of...They never found the bodies of his younger siblings, Advent probably having burned them with all the plasma fire. And that was the final insult even he couldn't fathom as to the reasoning in his pain addled mind...as the resistance medics got to work stabilising him, before entering the Skyranger. Then, and only then, did he allow himself to pass out.

Present Day – The Avenger, Over Former Latvia

His hands twisted into balled fists in his frustration. He hated Vipers and everything about them. A few blankets clad in his arms...why the hell did he feel pity for such a creature – the very same one that had stolen his siblings from him? His face twisted from it's otherwise solemn visage into that of mild frustration that he often withdrawn to during his brief moments of letting his mind wander, before yanking it back – like a dog with a choke chain around it's neck. Constantly reminding himself to be vigilant, to not get caught up on the follies of emotion – emotion gets people killed in combat, in war – and trust was a thing in short supply. Smith had no friends left, besides perhaps Bradford, Shen and the Commander – the first two looked on him amicably, as a fellow veteran – Bradford even quietly stating that he looked fondly at Smith – him, Bradford and the commander being some of the very few souls that remember the world before the Unification Wars, The Commander however? He was an Enigma – even if it was a He. Nobody besides the Bridge crew, Bradford, Shen and Tygan knew what the Commander even looked like. And to Smith – The commander was both emotionless and ruthless in his determination to win the day, liberate earth – and wouldn't stop at anything to let that go – even if it meant resorting to acts of terrorism to somehow damage the emotionless alien's morale? So be it. Smith made his opinions known, open and frequently – and the common rookie looked up more to the veteran soldier – than the distant, enigmatic commander that had, only until recently, brought them dozens of victories – but never deigned to know his men on a personal level.

The brilliant mind of the Commander was a brutal strategist, plain and simple. Willing to sacrifice hundreds of lives if it meant achieving victory, yet he never walked with the men who were on the ground, fighting day in and day out, losing nights worth of sleep over the carnage they had caused, and the slaughter they had wrought onto otherwise peaceful cityscapes. It frustrated Smith no end – so much that he wished Bradford was still in charge. Bradford at least drank with him, Bradford at least talked with him. Bradford was one of the only senior command staff that gave a damn about the men and women that put their lives on the line...christ, he needed to just unwind at some point. All those long, drawn out missions he'd spent weeks on had left him wound up tighter than a spring..

HISSSSS. The door to the Icebox of a holding cell opened – dragging Smith back from his thoughts while stepping forth with the blankets in his arms. With nary a word to Bradford, his green eyes met with the defiant crimson of the Viper...even now he shuddered lightly under their reptilian stare. Though regardless, he slid the blankets under the cell door. "Some blankets to keep you warm, Viper" He spoke in a blunt, low tone that only drawn out the contempt he held about the creature...The shivering serpent looked almost confused – perhaps lacking the idea of the concept of compassion as her head slanted to the side towards Smith...Some naive little corner of his brain held out hope that the Viper would at least appreciate the kindness, all the while his cynicism silently scolded his softness.

"No luck getting it to talk, Bradford?" He enquired, his head turning to face the Old Man with an inquisitive piqued brow while the Serpent moved back from the bars to wrap one of the blankets over her shoulders. Central shook his head with a low sigh, while the grating of wood against metal sounded against the floor, and the Xcom Operative deigned to join in on the questioning.

(Viper's POV)

"Now you're not freezing to death, you can tell us about the facility our operatives captured you from. What were you doing there – your role in the facility?" The Olive clad male spoke in a surprisingly kindred kind of voice – seating himself on a chair just outside of her cell...this human was different. She let her mind ponder while curling her tail beneath her, shrouding it beneath the thick blankets he had provided, allowing her some blessed relief from the biting cold...she was dead anyway – even if she escaped back to her sisters...maybe if she talked, she wouldn't have to stay here any longer? Maybe even be given some food and water..."Ressssearch Station" she at last muttered lowly – her forked tongue flicking out from her serpentine maw, her crimson eyes studying the other human before her. His eyes widened somewhat after she had spoke, likely shocked that she could speak one of Earth's languages. "Research Station? Researching What exactly? ADVENT isn't exactly known for it's Research wings" He probed deeper...there was something about this human – the way he talked, carried himself...as if his words were spoken with a lacing of ice to them – such subtle changes compared to this "Bradford" who was much more reserved and stoic.

"Natural Earth Toxins...Venom and Poison samples" She answered once again – keeping her words short, simple yet vague enough as to not go in depth to her work – doubting the human had a deep education in the structure of certain natural earth toxins. While it was hardly the most sensitive of research, it still kept her at least partly sworn to secrecy for now. "What was your position at the facility?" "Resssssearcher" her forked tongue flicked out again, tasting the air. "You mean...you're a scientist?" The human almost choked on his own words – he appeared almost surprised that an alien such as herself could put her mind to something other than the military – like most of her sisters did. "Yes" Her crimson eyes were set on this peculiar human – while "Bradford" seemed to be taking notes...Why was the Olive clad human being so passive with her? He could've acquired the same information by peeling off a scale at a time – He wasn't torturing her – he even brought her these "Blankets" that kept her warm...it was a peculiar sensation to be wrapped up in the cloth of an earth animal called a "Sheep" - much unlike the surgical chill of the Sleeping pods she and her sisters made do with at ADVENT facilities…

The Snapping of fingers brought her back to the present...she had to stop doing that – drifting off. "Hey, I asked why were you researching Earth toxins. Was it for weapons?" The male asked calmly once again...even she didn't know the answer to that question while her tail coiled uncertainly around the base of her..she kept answering as best she could though – it was all she could do, right? "I do not know. I was told to research it, what for I do not know" He head bowed somewhat...now there would surely be punishment, they wouldn't believe her, would they? She shuddered a little beneath the blanket, while the olive clad male merely stood there, his piercing green eyes staring daggers into her scales. "Fine, you better not be holding anything out on us. You're lucky that the Commander's taken such an interest in you, Viper. But even I doubt his mercy if you lie to us, hm?" There it was again..that icy coldness that matched the room so perfectly it was almost poetic. What would become of her? Would they tor-.. "But..I'm going to be a nice guy for once, and give you the benefit of the doubt. If there's anything you can share about what the hell you were doing in that facility, you share it – and I guess we'll have to try and make your stay more comfortable."

A soft metallic thunk and electrical whirring spoiled the otherwise sombre air of the room...but then it hit her, a wave of...warm air. Her crimson eyes watched the human before her, head tilted...had he done this? Silently she was both grateful and equal parts frightened of him..he was surely important to have had someone else do this. Bradford had, yet again been silently taking notes, as he glanced up to the Olive clad human while the room warmed along with the mood. "What do we call you anyway?" The Olive clad man asked...she didn't have a human name..she had those "number" things the humans called that marked her designation, her silence likely caught on to the men present "You don't have a name" Bradford quietly spoke "Fitting of ADVENT to not even care enough about their troops to give them something to cling onto" There was a thin string of anger in his words...both these humans had been here before the unification war..they had to have been. "Kalli." The olive clad operative spoke up – to her..."What?" she was...surprised..why was this human giving her one of the name things? "Kalli..that's what we'll call you." The Olive clad man still hadn't shared his own though as he begun heading for the door. "What is yours?" she could only help but enquire – she had to know this one, he was kind "Smith" he muttered to her, before at long last, the male headed outside alongside Bradford. If Bradford was frightening, then she could only help but want to uncover what this "Smith" was like. She'd never had the opportunity to "Work" with humans before...maybe she could join them? They would surely reward her for helping them.

Several Hours Later.

(Smith's POV)

"Absolutely fucking not" Smith growled when stood around the planning table on the bridge of the Avenger. "You're telling me, you want us to re-infiltrate an Advent research station that is likely going to be swarming with half a division of troops – with the alien in tow. How on earth can you even trust her, Sir?" He was glaring up at the Commander's Gremlin...Oh god how he wished for something heavy to smash it's glorious little eye sockets in. "You are going to be infiltrating with her, Smith. You know more about working in an Advent facility more than anyone else, and she might still have valid access codes" The Commander's own Gremlin glared at the indignant operative "They know she's Missing, Sir. How the hell are we going to explain a weeks long absence?" "We're not going through official channels. Which is why you are infiltrating with her – since you had the nice curtsey to name her for us."...A fist slammed down on the Holo-table...this was NOT happening. "Respectfully. Sir. I am not one of your old operatives." Smith was furious..they were forcing him to work with the alien species that had killed his siblings..they knew how angry it made him, surely "You are one of my best reconnaissance and infiltration operatives, so shut your trap and be ready for the call. You have two weeks to convince her to work with us" The commander's gremlin was stoic, logical and blatant and to the point..it frustrated Smith no end that he was right – in the end. Anything gleamed from the research facility could bolster their own..and god, the resistance needed every ounce of strength it could leech from the enemy...it didn't make him feel right though.

Author's Note: Aaaaand that's a chapter that's been in the long time coming. It's been a long absence from this little project and i've been wanting to dive back in for some time with some fresh inspiration. Hopefully you guys enjoy and let me know if I can improve on anything.