XCOM: The Atlas Protocol

by Xabiar

After the destruction of the dreadnought, tensions between XCOM and the Council are higher than ever. Despite growing opposition and oversight, the Commander doesn't hesitate to push humanity further into uncharted territory, as well as dealing with an ancient global conspiracy, and a growing number of countries looking to take advantage of an invasion that is only just beginning.

5. The Representative

The Representative

---

The Citadel, Hanger

The skyranger shuddered and after a few seconds became still. Herman listened as the engines died down and the lights in the skyranger flashed to a solid red. Unstrapping, he stood and waited for the ramp to lower. The aircraft was surprisingly compact and yet also seemed to provide enough room for a small squad of soldiers.

Which was rather impressive, considering that militaries tended to…overcompensate sometimes. At least in terms of getting the most out of their vehicles. Something like this would have been deemed impractical due to the low amount of soldiers who could be carried. In fact, he could have sworn he'd seen designs similar to this skyranger about…was it five years ago? Designs NATO had rejected due to "Extreme cost." Not that it mattered too much, but it was still interesting to note.

It would also be interesting to see what other abandoned ideas XCOM might have implemented.

With a hiss the ramp lowered and Herman walked out into what was apparently the hanger. It was surprisingly empty, no fuel barrels or many vehicles. Looking over to the corner he saw another skyranger parked in addition to the one in front of him. Hm. He wondered how many XCOM had. Looking up at the cavern walls he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

A rather interesting and clever design choice, he had to admit. Instead of storing XCOM's fighter jets in rows within the hanger, they were instead placed into slots carved out from the walls. There were six in total, and he didn't see how they were able to be deployed, but he was impressed they'd taken advantage of the unusual base location.

The Citadel…that alone told him he wasn't dealing with the typical military commander. Nearly all military personnel stuck with basic, generic names like "Alpha," "Theta," and so on. There were a variety of reasons for that, but calling an actual military base something out of a novel or movie wasn't exactly common and typically discouraged.

Sort of a shame, but he had to admit it was a little neat to actually have a base called as such. The Citadel had a nice ring to it. Remembering why he was here, he glanced around wondering where he should go. There didn't seem to be any welcoming committee here and the hanger was almost deserted as it was.

"Enjoy the flight?" A voice asked beside him.

Herman turned to see the man he presumed was his pilot approaching. Wearing a typical black aviation suit with his helmet tucked under his arm, the man appeared to be simply appraising him. His brown hair was mostly unkempt but his eyes were striking. At the moment, Herman couldn't guess what he was thinking.

"No issues," Herman responded. "Never flown on one of those before. I assume it's always that smooth?"

The man didn't crack a smile. "Only on missions when everything goes well."

"That not happen often?" Herman asked, shifting to face him better.

The man waved the hand not holding his helmet dismissively. "Nah, but enough to make me somewhat apprehensive." He extended a hand. "Jason Olgard, call sign 'Big Sky.'"

Herman shook it. "Herman Diederick, representative of the Council."

Jason eyed him, clearly being as guarded as possible. "Yeah, I know who you are."

Herman gave him a small smile. "And I presume you have an opinion already?"

"Just curiosity," Jason answered warily. "Wondering why the Council sends someone now."

"They simply wish to make sure everything is up to standard," Herman assured him, not even remotely convinced that the pilot would believe him. "Nothing more or less."

His assumption seemed to be true. "Hmm," Jason answered, keeping his neutral tone. "We'll see."

Might as well see what he could get. It never hurt to speak with people who questioned your motives, in fact, it was an excellent opportunity to change their minds. And he had the sneaking suspicion that he was going to be doing a lot of that around here. "You have doubts?"

"Let's just say I'm worried," Jason replied slowly, his face tightening to restrain emotion. "Things always seems to…what's the word…deteriorate when the UN tries to get involved."

Hm. Skeptical of the United Nations; not uncommon among military personnel and being part of NATO he could attest to some of the missteps of the United Nations. Unfortunately, that was often all people remembered. "You do realize XCOM is part of the United Nations," Herman informed. "Even if it's through the Council."

Jason finally cracked a smile. "I've been on UN ops before, Representative, and I can assure you that this is not run like anything done by the United Nations."

Probably true. The Commander preferred running things his own way and probably considered the procedures conducted by the Peacekeepers and NATO either a waste of time, or unnecessary. From the psychological profile he'd been provided on the Commander, he was very much a man of action. He didn't spend any more days deliberating or discussing than he deemed was necessary. He saw what needed to be done in his eyes and immediately attempted to do it.

He could respect proactivity, but not at the expense of assurance. Herman tended to look more at the big picture including what happened after the mission or operation was completed rather than the short term effects. And if the War on Terror had proven anything, it was that the Commander did not look beyond his current objective.

Despite himself, he was growing more and more curious to meet him. Perhaps things would become clearer then. Still, he had to remember that he was not likely to be welcomed and that the Commander was a very intelligent man by all accounts. Despite his apparent dislike of politics, the Commander did seem to have a good grasp on them and would likely be very aware if he tried any kind of verbal trickery.

He'd probably not react well to it. Direct and straightforward, that was what dossier had said would be most likely to earn his respect. Best be polite at first and see where it got him.

"Well," he finally answered, returning to the conversation. "I look forward to seeing how it differs. It might be a nice change of pace for me."

"Hopefully you don't find anything overly problematic," Jason commented grimly. "The last thing we need is disruption."

"Believe me, I understand how dangerous the alien threat is," Herman assured him. "Nothing will be changed unless absolutely necessary."

Jason gave one nod. "I hope you prove me wrong."

Well, thing was off to an excellent start. He sincerely hoped that not everyone was like this. "I intend to do my best. Now," he looked around. "I suppose I should meet the Commander. I suppose you know where he is?"

"At the moment," Jason looked up. "No. I'm not the one to give you directions. Your escort should be coming any second now."

"I suppose it's late?" Herman asked.

"Yes," Jason nodded, shifting his helmet under his arm. "But we've got a squad coming back from a mission. We're more focused on that."

Ah, that made sense. "I understand," Herman nodded. "I'll wait as long as needed."

"I'll stay until he comes," Jason said, flipping his helmet in his hands. "Wouldn't want to leave you alone here."

"Appreciated," Herman answered, genuinely grateful for the offer. "So how many pilots do you have?"

"Skyranger or Raven?" Jason attempted to clarify. Herman supposed that the Ravens were those fighter jets. Well, he had time.

"Both."

"For the skyrangers, just three," Jason replied indicating the aircraft behind him. "Tristen and Riley, "Fallen Sky" and "Burning Sky" respectively. Then me, of course. We just got some new pilots and Ravens so I don't know all the names, but we have six in total, though the Commander is looking to expand further."

"A rather small air force," Herman commented. "I'd think that you'd need more."

"We do, no question," Jason agreed emphatically. "But it's an issue of time, capacity and funds. The details of which I'm not privy to, though the Commander might be more open with you. We've managed fine so far, but we know the air war is only going to get more intense."

Herman recalled the alien dreadnaught and had to agree. "The aliens can't be happy losing their dreadnaught."

"No question," Jason answered. "I'd wager-ah, seems your escort has arrived."

About time. Herman turned around and his eyes widened in surprise. "General Van Doorn?" He exclaimed in surprise, certain his eyes weren't playing tricks as the bald and cheerful man walked up in black military fatigues with the XCOM logo emblazoned on the shoulders.

"A pleasure to see you again, Herman," Van Doorn answered happily as they grasped forearms as had been their custom and pulled into a quick embrace. Stepping back, Van Doorn continued. "You don't know how relieved I was when I heard you would be the one coming."

"What are you doing here?" Herman asked in amazement. "Last I heard you were called off to some meeting."

"Long story," Van Doorn answered with a smile. "Suffice it to say that I ran into a situation where XCOM had to come and extract me. After a series of interesting events, I decided to stay on and help here." He motioned to the door. "Come on, we can walk and talk at the same time."

Herman walked up to his side and they began walking out of the hanger. He shook his head in disbelief. "I admit, I'm surprised you left NATO. And that no one told us."

"Yes," Van Doorn admitted wryly. "The Council wasn't entirely happy with my decision, but this is where I belong. XCOM is our best chance against the aliens, whether the Council will admit it or not."

They walked in silence for a few seconds. "I suppose you know what I should expect," Herman finally said. "Good or bad?"

Van Doorn pursed his lips. "The Commander is…well, let's say he's not in favor of the Council taking a greater role in XCOM. I've managed to make him a little more open to you, so he probably won't be as…hostile. But don't expect complete cooperation right off the bat."

Herman sighed. "I expected as much. But you know why I'm here, so is there anything I will find."

"Certainly," Van Doorn agreed, surprising him. "But you and I both know that no military organization is going to be completely clean. I suppose it's up to you to decide what you believe is worth reporting. You have a job and I understand that. There will be no opposition for me."

"But I will from everyone else?" Herman finished wearily.

Van Doorn paused as the turned a corner. "That will honestly depend on how you conduct yourself. Be willing to work with us and you'll gain more support. Dr. Shen isn't opposed to you and neither am I, clearly. But everyone else is suspicious at least."

"And what is your impression of the Commander?" Herman asked carefully.

The General hesitated before answering. "From working with him, I can say that he's very determined, loyal to everyone under his command and…I suppose decisive is the best word. But he's fair and will listen to everyone before making a decision."

"Is that for show or does he actually mean it?" Herman questioned. Often times stuff like that tended to be more…symbolic than actually looking for feedback.

"I believe he does," Van Doorn answered carefully. "That being said, he is very much under the impression that his way is always the correct one. He has counter-arguments for most points brought up against him and seems to have used them enough that it's almost rehearsed. Not to mention that his views generally line up strongly with the majority of our Internal Council."

Hm. The more they talked, the more he got the impression that Van Doorn didn't know the true identity of the Commander. By this point it should have been brought up at least once, unless he assumed the Council told him. There was a way to find out; simply asking would do the trick. But if Van Doorn didn't know, that would be a major misstep and cause a whole host of problems. Best to talk to the Commander first unless Van Doorn brought it up.

"I assume this Internal Council is the Commander's body of advisors?" Herman asked as they walked into a lift that began rising.

"Yes," Van Doorn nodded. "It's members include our head of Engineering, Dr. Shen; our Central Officer, Bradford; our head of R&D, Dr. Vahlen and me."

Vahlen. He'd heard that name before, though he couldn't quite recall….he searched his mind for a minute until he recalled something. "Wasn't Vahlen one of the scientists lost during the War on Terror?"

Van Doorn chuckled. "So I believed as well. Turns out it was just a cover, or so I'm told. But she's perfectly alive and as brilliant as ever. A bit unsettling though."

Yes. That matched up with what he now remembered about the woman. Cold, calculating, focused and brilliant. She was the kind of scientist who pushed ethics and morals aside in favor of pure scientific advancement. It seemed he was going to meet a host of interesting people.

"I'd prefer not to upset the Commander on our first visit," Herman finally said. "Anything I should do or avoid."

"Speak to him as a soldier, not a diplomat or representative," Van Doorn advised carefully. "He'll respect you more, even if he still won't like you. But he won't hold back and neither should you, but be smart about it."

"I'll remember that," Herman promised, preparing himself for the conversation ahead.

---

The Citadel, Office of the Commander

Van Doorn had left to bring the representative to meet him. Well, he couldn't put this off forever. Still, he wouldn't let this ruin an excellent mission. The aliens had been defeated, no casualties and he'd convinced the South Korean president to let XCOM secure the area so "More wouldn't be hurt." It couldn't have hurt that the special forces soldiers sent in had been rescued by XCOM and had witnessed a lethal demonstration of uncontained alien technology. A shame that the population had been abducted, but they sadly couldn't have done anything to prevent that.

That being said, he wouldn't have been concerned if South Korea had insisted on some of the tech. Like Israel, they were generally concerned with matters closer to home than XCOM, the aliens or the world as a whole. But one issue was that he didn't know exactly what the country would do with a sudden explosion of technological advancement. But the biggest reason for him was that this might give South Korea advantage in their shadow war with their neighbor.

Not that he would be particularlysad about that, but he was more concerned that would prompt North Korea to end the mostly one-sided war decisively. If South Korea was emboldened by their new advantage, a more public attack could allow North Korea to successfully convince China to back them as they put down the rebellious country.

And that was the last thing he needed or wanted.

These constant rivalries and tensions between countries all over the world were becoming more worrisome the longer this war lasted. It was only a matter of time before some idiot country got their hands on alien tech and used it to attack whoever they considered their enemy. No matter how hard he tried, it would happen one day.

Now, he did have some ideas on hand, but none of them particularly…legal. But if the stability of the world was began to collapse, he would have no choice but to at least try to direct it.

But that was a topic for later. Right now he had issues closer to home to deal with.

Ground rules for the representative had been established. He was to learn no more than was necessary and any additional inquiries he made were to either be directed towards the Commander, or explained in a way that would confuse him, while not technically lying. He would "officially" have unrestricted access throughout the base, meaning everywhere but the holding cells, Alien Containment and the new lab cells being built under the research area.

Zhang and XCOM Intelligence were not to be mentioned under any circumstances or insinuated in any way. In the event that the two met, Zhang was simply a soldier in the XCOM armed forces and that would hold as long as the Commander deemed it necessary. He would be notified of missions taking place, but all Internal Council meetings would be held without him. If he insisted, they would be held without his knowledge.

He had debated attempting to hide the public contingencies, but it would only look suspicious especially since the entire base had access at the moment. The only thing he was concerned about was the Thanatos Contingency, but depending on how reasonable this "Herman Diederick" was, he might be able to convince him of the necessity of it all.

Van Doorn had actually been excited when the name came to them. According to the General, Herman was a reasonable, loyal, level headed and a sound tactician to boot. All of which sounded far too good to be true, and if so, made him a very odd choice for a representative of the Council.

He didn't believe the Council wouldn't send someone they didn't think they could influence, so that threw something of a shadow over Van Doorn's words. Regardless, it might be useful for placating the Council, assuming everything could be controlled.

That was the best-case scenario, and those generally didn't happen enough for him to be reliant on them.

A light on his desk blinked, indicating that someone was outside. Time to finally meet. The door slid open and Van Doorn walked in, the Representative at his side. Herman didn't appear that old, late thirties or forties at first glance. His short black hair was ordered and his clean-shaven face was composed. The Commander didn't fail to notice the scar that ran across his forehead.

Interesting. He also was clad in NATO issue military fatigues, though he must have removed any badges displaying his rank. The only identifying emblem was the United Nations emblem on his upper left chest. At least he could be assured he was dealing with a military personality and not a politician.

"Commander," Van Doorn greeted as they walked in front of his desk and indicated the man beside him. "This is Herman Diederick, Major-General in NATO and Representative of the Council."

"I know," he answered the General. "I suppose I should welcome you to the Citadel."

"It's a unique base," Herman answered, clasping his hands in front of him. "I don't think I've seen anything like it before."

"I can imagine," the Commander agreed, keeping his tone deliberately neutral. He nodded at Van Doorn. "General, I'd like to speak with him alone."

"I'll be in Mission Control," Van Doorn told him as he saluted and made to exit. "Spur Team should be returning in a few minutes."

They waited a few seconds after Van Doorn left and the door closed before either of them made a move. "I suppose I've arrived at a bad time," Herman finally said. "I'd rather not interrupt an on-going operation."

"Quite honestly, there would never be a 'good' time for you to arrive," the Commander answered, walking around the table and handed him a tablet. "But in this case, it's no disruption. Our operation was successful and the squad is heading back now. The mission details are here."

Herman took the tablet and read for a few minutes. "Nearly ten thousand abducted. I'm not sure that could be considered a success."

The Commander sighed. "Until we have a way to predict where the aliens are going to strike, the best we can do is eradicate any that remain. We're not dealing with some upstart nation; we're dealing with a technologically advanced alien race."

"Fair enough," Herman answered, putting the tablet down and appraising him. "But I suppose I'll have to be brought up to speed. In the meantime, I suppose we should address this situation."

The Commander pursed his lips. "I agree. So, what has the Council told you about me? I'd also appreciate knowing their reasons for why they felt it was necessary to interfere in my operation."

"This is still technically a Council operation," Herman stated neutrally. "Whether you like it or not, they have the right to run it as they see fit."

The Commander's eyes turned to ice. "That's a debate for later. Please answer the question."

"What did they tell me…?" Herman mused, then looked directly at him. "Your identity for one, Commander."

He wasn't overly surprised. It was expected that the Council would no doubt use their most damning information to sway the one they sent. "And I suppose you have an opinion?"

Herman seemed amused. "Do you really want my personal opinion?"

The Commander's lips curled into a humorless grin. "Yes."

"In my own humble opinion, you should have been executed," Herman stated bluntly. "Or even in some cell for life. Someone like you should not have been put in charge, no matter how skilled you might be." He held up a hand, forestalling any initial reply.

"That being said, that was made without my input and I can do little about it. You don't have to fear me using your past as a weapon or excuse against you. We have a much greater enemy and I'm willing to…overlook…your crimes for the duration of this war."

Hm. Well, that was interesting. Though he didn't fail to notice that his promise only lasted for 'The duration of this war.' That might have to do. "At least you're honest," the Commander answered, inclined his head. "I can work with that."

"How many people know?" Herman asked, lacing his fingers together.

"My identity? None," the Commander shrugged. "The Council wisely knew that would simply cause issues and simply told everyone I was one of the soldiers under the Commander. A story I've stuck to since."

"I see," Herman said. "In that case, what I've heard on you varies greatly depending on which councilor I've spoken too. Some prefer to let you do your own thing, others are concerned you're making power grabs and authorizing operations outside of your authority."

Typical. At least the Council didn't have anything he hadn't anticipated. "I suppose by "power grab" they mean my alliances with countries outside their little Council or are simply upset I don't share every detail with them."

"A combination of both, I believe," Herman nodded. "You have to be aware that Israel is not on the best of terms with-"

The Commander raised a hand, cutting him off. "Let me be perfectly clear. I don't care if the UN doesn't like a country. If they are willing to work with me and actually contribute to the defense of Earth I will never deny them that. Tell me, why does the UN have a problem with Israel and not Saudi Arabia or China, both of whom regularly violate multiple human rights regulations, set up by the UN itself no less?"

"Politics," Herman admitted. "We both know that and sometimes compromises have to be made. Israel refused to budge on anything and as a result the United Nations considers them problematic. It's not that they actively dislike Israel, more that it is that countries unwillingness to work with anyone. Except you, apparently."

"My point is that I'm going to keep trying to make alliances with countries outside the Council," the Commander said firmly. "So if that's going to be a problem, the Council might as well be prepared."

"I suppose that's going to depend on who you have in mind," Herman shrugged. "Listen, as suspicious as you are of me right now, I'm not going to try and cause problems. But this is a United Nations operation and if you violate the guidelines I will do my job."

The Commander sighed. "Do you really think it's possible to run a war without collateral damage? That is what the Council is concerned about the most, right?"

"Of course collateral damage is unavoidable," Herman insisted, sighing. "But every effort should be made to minimize it."

The Commander shook his head. "It should be minimized, but that is not a priority, nor should it be. People die in war, it's unavoidable. Ending it as quickly and efficiently as possible is the ultimate goal, and if innocent people die, that's something I'm willing to live with."

Herman looked slightly taken aback. "I see."

"No, you don't," the Commander retorted bluntly. "And most of the entire world doesn't either. I'm well aware of my reputation, believe me, and I'm content with it. But the truth is that the majority of the world doesn't understand war or what it takes win one. You can't fight with constraints and rules if you want to achieve victory."

He sighed. "You are a soldier, so you might have a better idea, but even you probably view me as a monster, no? That's not an issue with me, but I do what is necessary, regardless of whether it is right or not. Understand that about me, I'm not going to risk the survival of the human race over a few petty UN regulations."

Herman held back a few seconds after that speech before speaking. "Your point is made, Commander."

"I'm glad," the Commander answered, his tone growing more neutral again. "And like it or not, you are a greater potential danger to humanity than the aliens. You have the power to bring down me, or at least inconvenience me severely. I normally deal with risks like that decisively, but let me be clear here; the only reason I'm not considering you an enemy spy is because Van Doorn trusts you and believes you are reasonable."

"I like to consider myself as such," Herman answered slowly. "But again, I do have a job here and I won't ignore it. But I'd rather work with you against the aliens than have animosity between us."

The Commander nodded. "That is ideal. But I don't allow people into my council unless I trust them. You want a greater role here? Earn it."

"I suppose in your position it makes sense," Herman admitted. "But I won't stay idle until I meet some criteria of yours."

"No, you won't," the Commander tossed him a badge which he caught easily. "You should be able to get into anywhere with this. Any issues, speak to me and it'll be fixed."

"Appreciated," Herman answered as he put the card in his pocket. "I suppose I might as well ask; are you currently conducting or authorizing any illegal operations or projects?"

The Commander looked him in the eye. "No."

Herman nodded. "Then until I find evidence otherwise, that'll work."

"You'll be notified when our next operation is," the Commander told him, going over to his desk. "That should give you an idea of how we conduct our missions."

"Please do," Herman agreed, inclining his head. "In the meantime, I'd like to walk around and speak to your staff."

"Go ahead," the Commander encouraged. "You'll find everything in order."

"I hope so," Herman said as he picked up on the dismissal. "Until next time, Commander."

He left, leaving the Commander alone.

Interesting.

It appeared Van Doorn had been at least partially correct about the man, which was both good and bad. Good in that he seemed a reasonable and level-headed person, and that he didn't seem to be a complete tool of the Council. Which was honestly surprising, he'd have thought they'd take this opportunity to send someone devoted to bringing him down and while he had no doubt that Herman would fulfill his duty if he discovered something, that wasn't his primary goal.

He'd have to question him more about the state of the Council. They were either being extremely reasonable, or there were greater disagreements than he'd believed. He knew the names of the Councilors and where they stood, but given recent events, loyalties may have shifted and they needed to be updated.

The concerning thing was that Herman was going to do his job and didn't seem prone to intimidation. Which he could respect because at least he didn't hide his intention. At the same time, that made it that more crucial that certain things remain under wraps, because if he caught onto something, he likely wouldn't rest until he figured it out.

---

The Citadel, Barracks

Soran carefully put his laser weapon back into his locker. Satisfied everything was in order, he stepped back and shut the door until he heard a click. He liked how organized everything was here, there was hardly any clutter or overly cramped or open spaces. The other soldiers from his squad were putting away their gear as well and some of the other soldiers were watching or walking over.

"What was it this time?" A woman with chestnut hair and a British accent asked, walking over to Creed.

"Alien abduction," Creed answered, turning to her. "Went pretty smoothly, all things considered. In South Korea as well, we actually had some help from them."

"Interesting," she mused, looking up. "Why there of all places?"

"Don't know," Creed answered as he put his rifle away. "But they got the whole town again."

She scowled. "Damn it."

"Has it ever been any different?" Soran asked, deciding to walk up to them. "Have you ever stopped an abduction in progress?"

She frowned at him and narrowed her striking brown eyes. "Who are-Ah, one of the new ones, yes?"

"Yes," Soran extended a hand since that seemed to be the custom here. "Soran Kakusa."

She took it with a firm grip. "Patricia Trask, a pleasure."

Even without armor, she cut an imposing figure. Despite being slightly shorter than him, she was built far better and would probably outmatch him in a contest of strength. She didn't seem that welcoming a person to being with, she appeared very…calculating, at least in her eyes which were quickly appraising him as well. Still, she didn't strike him as inherently dangerous, unlike Carmelita.

Oddly enough, she seemed unsettled by something. She kept darting her eyes at Creed when he wasn't focused on her. Her expression looked confused, as if she couldn't decide what emotion to display. Soran didn't know if that was normal, but she composed herself quickly a few seconds later.

Hm.

"To answer your question, no," Creed said, turning back to them. "Unless I'm forgetting something, Patricia."

Patricia shook her head. "No, we've never stopped one. Came close a few times, but we're always too late."

"Why?" Soran asked, leaning against the wall. "Is it always not detected until after?"

"Essentially," Patricia agreed grimly. "We have no way of predicting where they will strike. Thus, our response is always reactionary."

Interesting. "Then you haven't been able to get into how their communication network?"

"Not yet," Creed admitted. "Though that will probably be one of the next projects the research teams tackle."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Patricia cautioned. "They apparently made some big breakthrough recently. I'd imagine they'd focus on that first."

Creed frowned and glanced over at her. "What did they discover?"

"Don't' know," she shrugged. "But I heard the word "meld" mentioned a few times. No idea what that is. I'll ask Vahlen when I see her later."

"When will that be?" Creed asked, an amused look on his face.

"Later today," she answered with a wave of her hand. Creed looked surprised.

"You were serious," he stated, surprised. "Why are you going to her?"

Patricia grimaced and looked away. "Personal matter."

"With Vahlen?" Creed asked skeptically.

"Like I said, a personal matter," Patricia repeated and shook her head. "Anyway, you missed an interesting arrival."

"Who?"

"The Council decided to send a representative," Patricia answered. "Herman Diederick if that means anything."

Soran frowned as did Creed. "Why?" Creed finally asked.

"I guess the Council wants a bigger voice in XCOM," Patricia guessed. "Or just want a better idea of what's going on."

"No, why now?" Creed repeated, legitimate confusion on his face. "If they wanted that they would have had someone from the beginning. This had to have been prompted by something."

"The dreadnaught?" Soran suggested. "Perhaps the Council was unhappy with the collateral damage?"

"They better have a reason beyond that," Creed stated, his tone turning dark. "I'm tired of hearing that being turned into something negative."

"Politicians don't understand war," Patricia agreed, pursing her lips. "They care more about public opinion than the fact we brought down an alien dreadnaught."

Soran waited a few seconds, looking between them. "I suppose you aren't fans of the UN?"

"I'm not a fan of politicians," Creed answered bluntly.

"I'm not a fan of idiocy," Patricia added with a nod. "And I find both of those tend to fit the UN quite regularly."

Soran struggled to keep his face blank. Such blatant disrespect for the organization they ultimately answered too was…well, extraordinary. Sure, the UN might not be perfect but it was better than anarchy, which is what would probably happen if it didn't exist. Even if it served as a deterrent and nothing else, an ineffective organization was better than warring countries.

Aside from that, if his superiors ever heard talk like this about them, there was no question they'd be punished severely. The fact that the Commander hadn't cracked down on this kind of talk either meant he didn't care, didn't know, or agreed. In that case, it wasn't hard to imagine the UN sending someone to oversee things.

"Then I suppose you're not happy with the representative as well?" He guessed.

Patricia glanced at the door. "That depends if he begins interfering in the war."

Creed shrugged. "I'm sure the Commander will handle it. We don't know what goes on between him and the Council. This could all be planned."

Patricia snorted. "I'd love to see his face when he reads the contingencies." Creed chuckled at that.

Ah right. He needed to do that as well. He often found technical documents boring, but that comment had piqued his curiosity, especially if it seemed to indicate some of the content wasn't exactly something that the UN would condone.

"Do you know what they do with the people they capture?" He asked, moving his hand in a circle. "From the abductions, I mean."

Patricia and Creed exchanged a look. "Nothing good," Creed said grimly. "But no one knows for sure."

"Probably being experimented on," Patricia guessed. "Though I don't know what they could really gain beyond basic anatomy knowledge. They already know what will kill us."

"Let's hope we don't find out." Creed stated.

"Yeah," Patricia agreed. "Well, I'll leave now. I have an appointment with Vahlen."

"Good luck with that," Creed told her solemnly. "Sparring at the usual time?"

"Go with yes," Patricia nodded. "I'll let you know if it changes," she looked at Soran. "Nice to meet you, I'm sure I'll see you around."

"You as well, Patricia." He nodded and she left. Creed walked away to finish putting his stuff in his locker. Well, it seemed he had some reading to do. These contingencies would probably be a good place to start.

---

Scotland, Wilderness

Cerian appraised the five individuals before him. Three men and two women. Three field agents, one technical specialist and one medical specialist. A much larger crew than he'd ever used before. But from their dossiers, they were all accomplished in their fields and most importantly, seemed reliable and discrete.

He'd decided to make his home something of a base until they needed to move or enough people complained. It was isolated, connected and defendable. He'd managed to make enough room for everyone, though that would probably be unnecessary since they would be spending the majority of time away from here.

Sadly, he'd had to move his projects into a different location and cease working on them entirely. He couldn't do two things like this at once and his job took priority. Maybe he'd let Mary, the tech specialist take a look at it. The African-American woman had noticed it earlier and seemed interested to begin with. Something to remember.

Patrick was also here, and probably would be until things got underway. Everyone was here now, so no point delaying. He cleared his throat. "Welcome, all of you," He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm Cerian and I'll be overseeing this operation." He tapped the file in his hand. "All of you seem competent, so I'll just get right into it."

He clasped his hands together. "I assume each of you have heard of XCOM?" Everyone nodded in affirmation.

"The people who downed the dreadnaught, right?" Baston, one of the field operatives asked.

"Correct," Cerian nodded. "And if you hadn't figured it out by now, XCOM is a United Nations organization."

None of them looked surprised. Excellent, he wasn't dealing with a bunch of idiots. Patrick coughed. "Technically, it's a Council organization. As far as the official United Nations is concerned, XCOM is an independent organization."

Cerian waved a hand. "Interesting, but unimportant for our purposes. The point is that XCOM is under UN regulations and as such, must abide within their sphere of influence."

He pointed at one who had his hand raised. Darril, their medical specialist. "Yes, Darril?"

"Just a clarification," he answered. "This Council is part of the UN and if so, why haven't we heard of it?"

"Because it's very secret and composed of all the countries who want their own private UN," Cerian answered wryly and got a chuckle out of some of them. "It's a club." He saw Patrick frown and smiled. "Ask Patrick afterwards if you want more details, but the Council is not of interest to us."

"So what do we have to work with?" Olivia, another field agent asked.

"Very little," Cerian admitted cheerfully. "A challenge for sure, but I'm sure all of you are up to it. Frankly, this wouldn't be an issue if anyone else was in charge of XCOM." He looked at Patrick who nodded, growing grimmer. Patrick had wanted to keep the Commander's identity a secret, but had been flatly overruled by him. This case already lacked evidence and he didn't want to give his agents any cause to think this was anything other than an official mission.

Furthermore, he found everyone tended to work much better when information was shared. "Now I'm assuming all of you know everything is classified, but it bears repeating here," He paused. "The Commander is alive and is in charge of XCOM."

They all looked confused for a moment until Mary sucked in her breath. "Oh," she breathed. "You mean the Commander?"

"War on Terror? Crucifixes and the Caliphate? Yes, the very same?" Cerian confirmed.

The five began muttering to each other in disbelief. "How the hell…" Darril began, then stopped and shook his head.

Cerian held up a hand and they stopped talking. "Yes, and it was made by the geniuses in the Council. But what's done is done and now to the surprise of absolutely no one, they think he'd doing things he shouldn't. Please direct all your complaints to Patrick here." Patrick shot him a glare and he suppressed another smile.

"The Commander has been making several alliances with countries outside the Council," Cerian continued, putting up a map of Europe on the whiteboard behind him. "As far as we know, the Commander has only made official alliances with Israel and Germany," He pointed at the countries as he spoke. "Naturally, this is making the Council nervous. Israel for obvious reasons and Germany given what happened."

Baston frowned. "Is that an issue?"

"Aside from making the Council angry, no," Cerian admitted. "But it's important later," He motioned at Patrick. "Go ahead."

Patrick took the center. "I assume each of you knows the circumstances of the fall of the German government and the rise of the military state now. There is some reason to believe that each of the events that led to this weren't entirely the fault of the aliens."

They waited for him to continue. "In nearly all the attacks, evidence was erased one way or another and we don't entirely have a good idea of what happened before. The most obvious answer is alien intervention, but the interesting thing is that we don't have evidence for that in every single instance. However, in Cologne we might have found something."

"That was where the acid attacks were." Ren, the last field operative recalled.

"Correct," Patrick affirmed. "Two people were identified as thin men by the crowd. How they were discovered, we don't know. But they were beaten to death soon after."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Does that mean anything?"

"The bodies of the aliens weren't able to be recovered," Patrick revealed. "However, we did manage to get an image of the male victim." He put up a picture of a young bearded man, who didn't look that out of the ordinary. The picture was taken at night and by his side was a woman. "Norman Adalard," Patrick continued. "A young activist with no prior criminal activity or anything of note, really."

"Who's the woman?" Mary asked, eyeing the picture curiously.

"Our first target," Cerian answered and put up another picture. It was low quality and only got part of her face, but enough to make out some features. Black hair just below shoulder length and clearly middle-eastern features. Sadly, the details of the face itself were blurred and grainy.

"Our mystery woman met with Norman at a bar and after talking for a bit, they left and presumably went to his place." Cerian put up several more pictures. "These were taken the day after. Notice anything?"

"He seems unsteady and uncomfortable," Darril noted. "A bit different than the one from that bar where he seemed rather happy."

"The shades too," Baston realized. "Sort of the signature thin man identifier."

"Combined with his odd behavior, that is essentially screaming alien." Mary finished, tapping a finger on her mouth. "Curious."

"And shortly after, our mystery woman vanished and hasn't been seen since," Cerian finished. "I don't think it's a stretch to assume she was involved with this."

"Not necessarily," Ren pointed out. "She might have been at the wrong place at the wrong time and bailed when the attack started."

"Do you have suspects?" Mary asked, pulling out her tablet.

"We ran her face through our database," Patrick answered, picking up a file. "We have four possible suspects." He put up four pictures of various women.

"Alberta Rolan," he began. "A Canadian immigrant from the Middle East during the War on Terror. Turned to crime once she arrived and has performed several heists. Highly skilled at seduction and manipulation, she's been a wanted criminal for five years and hasn't been caught yet."

"Namr Ida," Patrick continued, pointing to the second picture. "Iranian special operative who participated in over a dozen operations in the War on Terror. She went off the grid a few years ago and has been presumed dead. Or perhaps not, as the case may be."

He motioned to the third picture. "Yawe Ham, part of the inner circle of the only major criminal organization in Israel. From what we gather, she's the only one keeping the Mossad from eradicating the organization which makes me suspect she is either former Israeli Mossad or Kidon. Speaking of which…"

He indicated the last picture. "Ruth Shira, one of the only identified Kidon agents in the world. Unfortunately, we don't know much about her except that she's an expert manipulator and assassin. Unconfirmed reports either have her coming from a poor family who helped the Israeli military take down a criminal child prostitution ring, a teacher who worked in Iran for a time and reported several terrorists to the Mossad or simply a former criminal who hunted down terrorists instead of officers. No story is confirmed."

"Any you're leaning towards?" Darril asked, looking at the pictures and tapping his chin.

"At the moment…." Cerian paused. "Ruth and Namr. Both are intelligence types and would be the kind of women the Commander would want. I highly doubt Alberta would become involved in an affair this big and I don't see how Yawe could participate in this and continue assisting the criminal organization."

"I remember Namr," Olivia recalled suddenly. "She was something of an icon. Proof that not every Muslim was a xenophobic terrorist."

"I know," Cerian nodded. "But I didn't know her enough to know if this was something she'd do or not. But I'm leaning more towards Ruth in this case."

"XCOM has an alliance with Israel," Ren remembered. "Perhaps they sent her over to work with them."

"Exactly," Cerian nodded, pleased he'd picked it up so quickly. "And Kidon agents are ruthless, emotionless and dangerous. Exactly the kind of person who the Commander would prefer to use."

"So we watch for her?" Mary asked.

Cerian nodded. "And until we get a hit, we search for more clues."

"Were these the only hits," Mary asked Patrick, looking thoughtful. "Or are there more?"

Patrick looked at his own tablet and took a minute scrolling through it. "There were sixty-three hits," he finally said. "I eliminated all the civilian hits and military ones we had files on."

"I'd like to look," Mary requested. "You might have missed something."

"Will do," Patrick nodded. "Sending the list now."

"Alright," Cerian clasped his hands together. "Let's get to work."

---

The Citadel, XCOM Intelligence Control

Abby was torn between anticipation and nervousness. After a week of anticipation she was finally getting called in to actually join XCOM Intelligence. She'd not been idle the whole time, oh no. She'd spent every moment either training, reading up on the general field of intelligence work or performing her medical duties.

She looked down to make sure she was still presentable. Abby nodded, the official XCOM dress uniform was oddly unceremonial; gray pants and a slightly more heavy and ornate gray long sleeve shirt with her combat boots. She'd pinned the medal she'd received from the Dreadnaught operation on the left side of her shirt, though she wondered if that was considered showing off.

Well, her uniform would look bare without it. She had indulged herself a bit and not pulled her hair back, instead letting it hang but tucking it behind her ears. Hopefully Zhang wouldn't care too much. She patted her waist to ensure her laser pistol was there and satisfied, took a deep breath and thumbed the door open.

It slid open noiselessly and she walked inside. It was fairly small, about the side of the Commander's office. A table to the side held stacks of files all in neatly organized boxes. To the other side was a massive computer resting on the bottom with several desktops on table above it. In the center of the room was some sort of…holotable she guessed, showing the continent of Europe in a blue light.

A massive screen hung on the back of the wall and below it was a table, computer, desktop and chair where she assumed Zhang sat. Speaking of which, Zhang was standing by the holotable in conversation with a woman beside him.

She was smaller than Abby, though that wasn't saying much since Abby was much taller than most women, in fact, she was able to look Zhang in the eye. Smooth black hair fell to her shoulders, loose like hers that framed her almost motherly face. Even from observing, there was something warm and friendly about her and her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

There weren't any scars or distinguishing marks on her brown skin she could see, and the brown camo fatigues she was wearing covered up the rest of her body. A laser rifle was slung over her back and two pistols were strapped to her waist with a couple knives strapped to her chest like Carmelita had.

Zhang noticed her and waved her over. "Agent Gertrude, welcome."

Agent Gertrude. Yep, officially part of XCOM Intelligence now. It was sort of exciting. She walked over until she was opposite Zhang by the holotable. "Thank you, Director. I hope I didn't miss anything important."

Zhang shook his head, his scar flashing in the light. "No, I was just discussing some unrelated topics," He gestured to the women. "Abigail, this is Ruth Shira, your mentor."

Ruth gave a wide smile and extended her hand which Abby took. "Glad to finally meet you. I'm looking forward to this."

Abby had to return the smile. "The feeling is mutual."

Ruth chuckled. "I'll ask you that in a few hours, but I like your enthusiasm. Such a rare trait in agents."

If half the stories she'd read about intelligence work were true, that was something she could believe easily.

Zhang cleared his throat. "Before you take Abigail away, both of you need to be brought up to speed on recent events." He looked at Abby a deadly intensity in his eyes. "As an agent now, Abigail, you will have access and knowledge of sensitive information and you are not to share that with anyone outside the Commander, me, or the agents assigned to the same operation as you. Understand?"

She nodded once. "Yes, Director."

Apparently satisfied, Zhang turned his attention back to the holotable. "Excellent. Abigail, since you are not aware, XCOM has fallen to a cyber-attack recently causing the loss of some valuable data. Before that, we discovered evidence that the situation in Germany was being manipulated by several parties interested in the fall of the country."

Abby blinked. How had they not heard of this? The Germany situation she could understand, but the cyber-attack? That meant that Zhang was disturbingly good at suppressing information and she wondered what other stuff the soldiers weren't aware of. Zhang continued.

"One party that we believe participated in both events was an organization called EXALT. Heard of it?"

Abby shook her head while Ruth frowned. "That myth has been around longer than I've been alive," she answered skeptically. "It's been disproven and exposed a long time ago."

"It was," Zhang agreed. "But regardless, that's the name connected to both events."

"What is EXALT?" Abby asked, before things went too much farther.

Zhang looked at Ruth. "Want to answer?"

Ruth shrugged. "Sure, but I only know the basics," She turned to Abby. "EXALT became very prominent during the mid-fifties. The prevailing theory was a global conspiracy consisting of a few individuals who manipulated world events."

Abby frowned. "You mean the Illuminati?"

"Modern day Illuminati, I'd say," Ruth amended. "But essentially the same thing. No one knew how they operated or were controlled. It scared enough countries into devoting enormous amounts of resources into finding this group and removing it."

She paused. "Honestly, some of the evidence was very convincing, looking back. The only issue was that its leading proponent was exposed as a fraud a few years later. Israeli, Chinese and American agents found caches of evidence throughout the world which exposed the whole thing as a hoax. It was verified by essentially every intelligence community in the world, one of the few times everyone agreed on something."

She snorted. "And despite all that, the legend of EXALT is one that refuses to die," she looked at Zhang. "I forget anything?"

"That about sums it up," Zhang agreed. "Though I've looked quite a bit into the original documents and did find some information about the supposed structure of EXALT." He tapped the holotable and it flashed to a flat view of the world. "It appears that EXALT had one major hub per continent, sometimes public, sometimes not. They had one director, who was chosen is some sort of ritual contest where the contestants had to kill each other. I'm highly skeptical of that, but they did appear to have a leader."

He tapped the table rhythmically. "The only other thing I found interesting was that it was something of a collection of dynasties. EXALT was supposedly only controlled by a few select families and no one else. I also find that somewhat hard to believe, since they wouldn't be able to replace their number easily unless the families intermarried, which would become problematic in a few generations."

"Are you saying you believe this?" Ruth asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"I'm saying that we're dealing with an organization called EXALT," Zhang stated firmly. "And thus there are only two possibilities. One: This isn't the EXALT of legend and they are only assuming the name, which I honestly find more likely. Or two: EXALT did exist and managed to fool the entire world and have existed in secret until now."

"Either way, they have to be stopped." Abby said firmly.

Zhang nodded in approval. "Personally, I don't care who they are. They are posing a threat to our operation and must be eliminated. And until we do, I'm assigning the majority of agents to disrupting EXALT and putting this to rest once and for all."

"I for one, would be happy to end this myth once and for all," Ruth stated enthusiastically. "You have an assignment?"

"I need a confirmation first," Zhang answered, looking down at his tablet. "But I will. It's one I think Abby would be useful on as well. Expect to be called in by tomorrow at the latest. That should give the two of you some quality time."

"It will," Ruth confirmed, nodding.

"Then dismissed," Zhang returned to looking at the holotable. "I'll speak to you shortly."

Ruth grabbed Abby by the arm and escorted her out of the room. "Come on, agent. Let's see what you can do."

---

The Citadel, Training Area

Five hours later, Abby would have probably punched the woman, Kidon agent or no, if she'd had the strength to do so. But after being put through continuous exercises testing her strength, speed and agility, she simply didn't have the strength and collapsed to the ground.

Ruth stood over her, a wry grin on her face. "You getting up?"

"I literally cannot move," Abby gasped. "How much more could you possibly have for me?"

"Oh, you finished everything essential a few hours ago," Ruth answered nonchalantly. "But you were doing so well it felt wrong to stop. Besides, I was curious how far you would go."

Abby pushed herself up a little. "I sincerely hope you're kidding."

"I'm not, actually," Ruth reached down and grasped her forearm and hauled her to her feet. "The actual Kidon physical testing takes a couple of hours but no one really follows it. Most people give out around hour three. You made it just past the fifth hour. Congratulations, you are only one of twenty to actually do that, myself excluded."

"I would punch you if I had the strength," Abby warned, too tired to really care about what she was saying. "I still might."

Ruth laughed, a sound just a warm as the rest of her. "Based on that display, I think I'd let you." She let go of Abby and both of them walked to an empty table, both drenched in sweat.

"So did I pass?" Abby asked wearily as she took a long drink of water

"With flying colors," Ruth assured her, wiping her mouth after she took a drink. "You need training on some more refined close-quarter combat and resistance to interrogation of course, but you're more than capable of achieving these."

"That it?" Abby asked warily.

"For the basics," Ruth clarified, motioning with her hand. "There are some techniques you need to know about killing people, but those aren't difficult to learn."

She said it so casually it took her a minute to understand what she'd said. "Techniques for killing people?" She repeated cautiously.

"Well yeah," Ruth said. "We're not assassins for nothing. True, we do more than that in XCOM, but there are some things every agent should know. How to snap a neck, where the arteries are and the most efficient way to strangle a man twice as large as you."

Abby blinked. "You're serious," she stated as she put her water down.

Ruth eyed her with amusement. "Surprised?"

"Well," Abby shrugged. "It's just you say it so casually."

Ruth shrugged. "It's my job. Killing people happens quite often so I've gotten used to it. You're a surgeon, right? How many times have you performed life-saving surgeries on people? Did you ever consider it any big deal?"

She had a point. But still, saving lives was much different than taking them on a regular basis. "But still," she shook her head. "You're talking about people."

"Hmm," Ruth mused, looking away. "Depends on your point of view, I suppose. I've killed quite a few humans in my life, and I'd only consider a few of them worth calling people." She looked back at Abby. "Though I can see your viewpoint, since most agents start out like you. It's normal. Still, I am curious; have you killed someone before?"

Abby paused for a few seconds, then shook her head. "Only aliens."

"Alright," Ruth nodded earnestly. "Well, I suppose the next question should be could you kill someone?"

"If I needed to," Abby answered slowly.

"As I thought," Ruth said, shifting in her seat. "What about someone innocent?"

Abby thought very carefully for a few minutes before replying. Her initial reaction was an emphatic no, regardless of what Ruth thought. This was a clearly important question to her and Abby wasn't sure how she'd react either way. Furthermore, the longer she thought about it, the less sure she became. Could she just kill someone in cold blood, an innocent no less? She finally just decided to be honest.

"I don't know."

Luckily, Ruth didn't seem that displeased by her answer. "You probably won't until faced with that choice yourself."

"Do you think that's going to happen?" Abby asked nervously.

Ruth pursed her lips, growing more serious. "It's a distinct possibility, and one you should prepare yourself for, because it will happen sooner or later. And no, it's not as clear cut as you're probably thinking. It's probably going to be an accident or bad luck."

She turned to face her a bit better. "The first time it happened to me, I was on a scouting op in the Middle East. A rather notorious criminal had made his unofficial home there and I was to make sure he didn't move without my knowledge. Everything was going smoothly until a small group of shepherds accidentally stumbled on my position."

Ruth did look somewhat remorseful as she continued. "They had no clue who I was, but they were clearly terrified of me. I had a choice; let them go or kill them. There was a good chance that if I let them go, they'd go tell this criminal where I was or even just say I was in the area. This criminal had a sizable group of armed men following him and if he learned where I was, they would kill me and move on. Best case would be I survived, but lost the trail. "

"Couldn't you have just tied them up?" Abby asked, lacing her fingers together.

Ruth shook her head. "And do what? I had no clue how long I was going to be there and I had no food or water to give them. I was already in a difficult position because I knew people were going to come looking for them whatever I chose. I had at most a few days before the criminal was spooked and at least then I could track him."

She shook her head again. "No. I couldn't jeopardize the mission just to save a few innocent people. So I killed them and disposed to the bodies. Painlessly, of course." Ruth waved her hand absentmindedly. "And I did the right thing. Several more of the Kidon arrived at my position and we eradicated the criminal and his soldiers and left with no one the wiser. Four people were sacrificed to save hundreds more. That's something I can live with."

Abby didn't know if something was wrong with her because she did understand Ruth's point. Was she a bad person for understanding why and not feeling outraged? Or was it alright since she still didn't agree with it? To her credit, Ruth seemed to understand her internal dilemma and didn't press her to speak.

"Do you regret it?" She asked finally. "Or wish you'd done it differently?"

Ruth frowned. "Killing them? No, I still believe that was the right decision. But the circumstances then were beyond my control. If I had brought that choice on myself, then yes I would."

Abby supposed that was a decent enough answer. At least it didn't seem that Ruth wasn't completely heartless. Actually, she seemed a rather animated and cheerful woman. Prior to this conversation, she never would have guessed she was a professional assassin.

That was what probably made her a good agent.

"If it's any comfort, the majority of people killed in this business deserve it," Ruth finally said. "But you should be ready, just in case."

Abby nodded. "I will, though I hope it never happens."

"As do we all," Ruth agreed. "Though I don't want to worry you too much. XCOM Intelligence is a bit different from the Kidon. Not quite as much killing. Manipulation, sabotage and surveillance are a bit more prevalent."

Abby frowned and sighed. "I think I'm in way over my head."

Ruth snorted. "Nonsense, you're young, bright and good with people. Training is only one part, the application is just as important. As long as you can apply what I teach you, you'll do fine."

"Can you get me ready for whatever operation is tomorrow?" Abby asked ruefully.

"As a matter of fact, I think I can," Ruth answered with a slight smile. "I'm pretty sure I know what op Zhang is referring to and I think it'll be a good exercise for you." She stood. "Come one, let's walk. We've done enough physical training for today."

---

The Citadel, Research Labs

Patricia sighed in relief as she neared the doors. The buzzing that had plagued her had receded enough that she could ignore it without finding a distraction. It was extremely odd, the buzzing tended to fade the fewer people who were nearby. She didn't know whether that was a coincidence or meant something.

Well, hopefully Vahlen would be able to help. The Commander had assured her that Vahlen would be more than happy to see what she could do. Though from what Patricia knew of the woman, it would be more to satisfy her own curiosity and less about actually helping her. Well, as long as she had an explanation, she didn't really care about her motives.

The doors slid open and a rush of sterile and cold air rushed out, blowing her hair back a little. The scientists were busy looking through microscopes and at data from computer screens. Alien bodies and tech were resting on tables throughout the labs and Vahlen herself was standing by a container filled with some strange yellow substance.

Patricia frowned. At first glance it looked like that alien blood and she wondered what possible use Vahlen could have for it. Upon taking a closer look, she realized it wasn't blood, but some sort of…liquid? Gel? It shimmered slightly when the light hit the right places and she thought she saw glowing…hexagons? What was this stuff?

Well, maybe she could casually ask during whatever Vahlen had planned. Speaking of which, the woman had seen her and waved her over. Patricia took a breath and walked over to the table.

"Operative Trask, good to see you on time." Vahlen greeted with a curt nod.

"Thank you for agreeing to take a look." Patricia answered, leaning on the table.

"No problem," Vahlen dismissed while she made some notes on her tablet. "I must admit, I am somewhat curious as to what's afflicting you."

Patricia smirked and resisted the chance to roll her eyes. Of course you are. Well, at least she was honest, despite her questionable words of…was that supposed to be reassurance? Well, it didn't matter.

"So what seems to be the issue?" Vahlen began, appraising her, tablet at the ready. "The Commander gave me some basic details, but not much else."

Patricia pulled out a piece of paper she'd spent hours on recreating the symbols from memory. "This is the problem."

Vahlen took the piece of paper and took a few minutes looking at it, pure curiosity in her brown eyes as she scanned the page. Patricia could almost see her mind trying to come up with explanations for them. "How did you get this?" She finally asked. "I've seen these on some of the tech we've recovered, we believe this is what constitutes the alien language, though I'm certain any preliminary results haven't been shared with the armed forces."

"Surprise, interest, disappointment, potential." She listed off in a row. Vahlen frowned in confusion.

Patricia tapped the piece of paper. "That's what they mean. One word per line."

Vahlen's eyebrows rose, though her voice was more curious than disbelieving. "How could you possibly know that?"

Patricia scowled. "I don't know. That's what I've been trying to figure out for the past few days. I shouldn't even know what these are, yet I do. I shouldn't have any clue what they mean but I do. I can't explain why, but I'm certain that's what they mean."

"Interesting," Vahlen mused, making more notes on her tablet. "Tell me the exact circumstances of when you first saw these…words, I suppose."

"On the dreadnaught," Patricia began. "The first one appeared in my head when I shut off the power conduit. Once I did, it appeared in my head and I knew what it meant. More than that, I could feel what it meant."

"What do you mean feel?" Vahlen asked, appraising her curiously.

"Those words I listed off," Patricia motioned at the piece of paper. "I felt each emotion associated with the word. But it wasn't my emotions, it was something, or someone else's."

Vahlen paused for a minute, clearly thinking. "I've seen the footage from the armor cams. You made reference to the interface of the power conduit 'shimmering.' Something I didn't see on review of the footage."

Patricia shrugged helplessly. "I don't know why, it just…was. I knew what I had to do to shut it down."

Vahlen pursed her lips. "Are you experiencing anything else?"

"There's a constant…buzzing, ever since that mission," Patricia admitted. "It fades when I'm intently focused on something or when there are less people around. I've taken every medication possible but nothing helps. The odd thing is, it isn't painful, not yet at least."

"Anything else?" Vahlen pressed.

Patricia hesitated. There was one thing, but it was so outlandish she didn't know if it should be considered. Vahlen saw her hesitation. "There is," Vahlen stated, eyes lighting up. "Tell me."

"Feel free to dismiss it," Patricia warned. "It's probably just a massive coincidence. But a few days ago I was training, I think. But the buzzing stopped and…I don't know what happened, but I knew someone was coming to see me. More than that, I knew who it was."

Vahlen almost visibly brightened. "Go on."

Patricia narrowed her eyes at her enthusiasm, but continued. "I pushed it from my mind, but a few minutes later, Anius Creed showed up and asked to have our sparring session. I don't know how, but I somehow knew that was going to happen. I was so distracted I probably lost the match."

"Were you expecting him?" Vahlen asked, looking thoughtful.

"Yeah, we do that every other day," Patricia answered. "That's why I eventually dismissed it. I figured my mind was just playing more tricks. But the thing is, it happened again but more intensely. It was today, actually. It was like I could feel his emotions and intention as well."

"Fascinating," Vahlen muttered. "Follow me." Without waiting, she immediately made for the exit and Patricia hastily followed. Vahlen was a fast walker and Patricia had to adjust to keep up.

"You have an idea, don't you?" She half stated, half asked.

"A theory," Vahlen mused as she walked. "You were clearly affected by alien technology, it seems to be the conduit. However, what I find interesting is that if you were affected by something, everyone else who came into contact should have been as well."

"Care to share this theory?" Patricia demanded, trying to keep her focused.

"Perhaps," Vahlen answered distractedly, looking at her tablet. "Correct me if I'm wrong; you're saying that the symbols you saw correspond to emotions?"

"I think so, yes." Patricia answered.

"So that might mean their language is based on emotional cues and not literal meaning," Vahlen muttered, more to herself than Patricia. "And the best way such a language could be communicated is direct mental communication."

Patricia sucked in her breath, hoping that didn't mean what she thought it did. "You mean…?"

"Yes," Vahlen answered, sounding excited. "You might have made telepathic contact with an alien."

Damn it. It actually made some sense, and if she had been contacted by an alien… "It's not still inside me is it?" She asked, trying not to sound overly concerned.

"I don't know for sure," Vahlen shook her head. "But I doubt it. Unless you've been seeing more symbols you haven't told be about."

"So how did it contact me?" Patricia demanded as they turned a corner. "The only contact with alien tech I made was the conduits-"

"Which only you seemed to be able to access," Vahlen pointed out. "And with each instance you received a new message, correct?"

"Yes," Patricia nodded, growing more disconcerted. "I did."

"The conduits we recovered were disabled," Vahlen muttered to herself. "We need to get one running." She stopped in front of a door. "Here we are." Patricia looked up and realized they were at the Medical Ward.

Ok. A few possibilities ran through her mind, the most likely of which was that Vahlen wanted to take scans of her. Reasonable, especially if they helped figure out what the issue was. So even if that was the explanation for the symbols, it still didn't explain the buzzing or instances with Creed.

Vahlen opened the door and they walked into the empty waiting room. Without bothering to ask permission, Vahlen immediately made for the back room and Patricia reluctantly followed. She had the vague impression that they should at least be telling someone what they were doing.

"Here." Vahlen turned into one of the rooms which contained some kind of bizarre scanning equipment. Well, not bizarre, but she was pretty sure she'd never seen it before.

"Sit here," Vahlen ordered, pointing at the little cot that slid into the machine. While Patricia went over, Vahlen went and gathered some cords which she recognized doctors stuck on you when they took brain scans and the like. So her assumption had been correct, it seems.

"Hey? What are you doing?" Patricia looked over to see a man in a XCOM issue surgeon uniform. His large arms were crossed and was glaring at Vahlen, green eyes boring into her.

"Taking brain scans," Vahlen answered absentmindedly as she began working the machine. The man's eyes widened.

"Careful!" He warned as he rushed over. "You even know how to operate that?"

Vahlen stepped back and let him take over. "Of course, but have it your way." Despite her calmness, it was clear she wasn't happy at being interrupted.

Once the machine had settled at a nice hum, he turned to Vahlen. He sighed as he appeared to recognize her. "Doctor Vahlen. As much as I appreciate your work, I would ask that you please ask before using this equipment."

"Apologies," Vahlen didn't really sound overly apologetic. "But the circumstances warranted it. I saw no reason to take up your time."

He ran his hand over her blonde hair. "Well, you're here now. I might as well help you finish."

Patricia looked at him. "Who are you?"

"Combat Medic and Chief Surgeon Blake Harkin," he answered as he began putting some of the sensors on her. "I'm taking over for Abigail Gertrude pending her transfer."

Ah right. Patricia had honestly been surprised when Abby had moved to XCOM Intelligence of all places. A spy was the last thing she envisioned the young medic. A shame, she'd been a decent person and good at her job. Hopefully Zhang would make sure she was safe. She supposed that she'd be working with Blake now since he was the new combat medic.

One all the wires and sensors had been attached Blake nodded at her. "Alright, lie back. This should only take about five minutes. Keep calm."

She hated when people said that. It always backfired since it implied that yes, it was possible something could go wrong. So instead of actually being calm, she would always have that doubt in the back of her mind.

Maybe bad bedside manner was a requirement to join XCOM or something. Whatever, she lay down and the tray slid into the circular machine. The low hum was rather pleasant and Patricia resisted the urge to fall asleep. Before she knew it, the tray was sliding back out and she sat up.

"You got it?" She asked Vahlen who was staring at the screen.

"Yes," Vahlen answered as she tapped on the screen, then glanced down at her tablet. With a nod, she spun on her heel and headed for the door. "Thank you operative Trask. This will be essential into determining your condition, I will contact you if I learn anything." Without so much as a goodbye, she left both of them alone.

Patricia stared at the door in disbelief.

Ok then. She supposed the visit was over.

"She always do that?" Blake asked, sounding amazed.

"She's a very smart woman," Patricia answered slowly. "But…she's not exactly good with people. Very focused on results and theories."

"Scientists," Blake shook his head in resignation.

"Scientists," Patricia nodded in agreement. Well, as enlightening as this had been, she was no closer to knowing what was wrong with her. And she hadn't gotten a chance to ask Vahlen what the "meld" was. Damn, she'd have to ask later. In the meantime, she supposed it was going to be another long day training.

She supposed there were worse ways to spend it.

---

Supplementary Material

XCOM Operative Alien Handbook: Sectoid

OVERVIEW: The alien named the "Sectoid" by Dr. Moira Vahlen was the first alien encountered in the initial invasion. Appearing to serve as support to the larger and more powerful aliens, these creatures can still pose a threat of left unattended to. Despite their vulnerabilities, they make up for it by utilizing the enigmatic forces known as psionics. They are the only recorded alien species being capable of wielding this power.

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION AND CAPABILITIES: Standing at exactly 1.2 meters, every single sectoid encountered is a perfect genetic copy. It is unknown it this is a result of cloning or growing, or simply a trait of the species. The skin is an ash gray and the creatures move around unarmored and completely exposed.

Their spindly arms end in three-fingered hands that are capable of grasping most objects and instead of moving on two legs, they instead scramble around on all fours when moving. On their wrists are small plasma weapons that appear to be attached to the creature itself. Attempts to remove them have resulted in the weapon's destruction.

Their bulbous heads are enlarged beyond what is typically normal for a creature it's size. It lacks a mouth yet possesses vocal cords since soldiers have witnessed the sectoids making chittering sounds. It is unknown if these are their primary method of communication.

The sectoid appears to retain the strength of a teenage human child. Despite their malnourished appearance, they are stronger than they appear. However, they can easily be physically overpowered and subdued with either a knock to a head or ARC Thrower blast.

Note 1: A variation of the typical sectoid has been spotted on several occasions. This "Sectoid Leader" retains the same characteristics as the regular sectoid with the exception of the arm containing the plasma weapons. The arm containing the weapon is augmented with a sleeve of black metal to house a much larger plasma weapon. It is unknown if these Sectoid Leaders possess advanced psionic capabilities

STRENGTHS:

1. Plasma Weaponry: Despite advances in XCOM technology, plasma weapons are still more dangerous than any firearm developed on Earth. The damages this weapon can cause are extensive and often fatal.

Counter: The plasma weapons the sectoids wield are weaker than those employed by the rest of the alien forces (With the exception of the Sectoid Leader – See Note 1). As a result, XCOM has made enough strides in armor that a hit from a sectoid plasma weapon is now not immediately fatal (Except if struck in the head). Please note that repeated hits will still result in serious injury or death.

2. Psionics: Sectoids are capable of wielding the phenomenon known as psionics. They are currently the only known alien species to do so and the effects are highly dangerous and unpredictable. Usage of psionics has resulted in mental breakdowns, hallucinations, mental instability and suspected mind control.

Counter: There is currently no proven or foolproof way to resist psionic attacks. While several soldiers have proven resistant, there is not any shown correlation between them. The most effective deterrent is disrupting psionics in the first place by keeping pressure of the sectoids and killing them as soon as possible (See TACTICS)

WEAKNESSES:

1. Physically Weak: Due to their small size and strength, sectoids are able to be easily overpowered by a normal human adult. Their large craniums make them more vulnerable to weapon fire and head injuries caused by blunt trauma.

2. Unarmored: The sectoid is vulnerable every place on it's body. Laser weaponry is particularly effective as it will cleanly cut the sectoid into pieces with virtually no resistance. They are also more vulnerable to environmental hazards such as fire and electricity (See TACTICS for further elaboration).

3. Support Grenades: Sectoids are vulnerable to the flash-bang, more so than other aliens encountered. It is theorized that their large eyes are the source of this increased vulnerability. Offensively used smoke grenades are also effective for disrupting a sectoid group (See TACTICS for further elaboration).

TACTICS:

1. Laser Trap: Due to the sectoids lacking armor or protection, a laser traps is particularly effective. Simply sustain lasers for no more than five seconds and aim as directed by the Squad Overseer. Use in open or uncovered spaces for maximum effectiveness.

2. Flank: Have two to three soldiers suppress a group of sectoids in cover. As they do this, a second team will move around the side (Determined by the Squad Overseer), and open fire on the exposed aliens. Use on contained or clustered groups for maximum effectiveness.

3. Offensive Smoke Grenade: Throw a smoke grenade into the midst of a group of sectoids. Ensure that the HUD is set to filter out smoke, allowing a clear view of the exposed sectoids. If they are exposed, fire. If not, use this opportunity to advance into a better position. Use on contained or clustered groups for maximum effectiveness.

4. Flash-Bang: Throw a flash-bang to disrupt psionic activity and cause disorientation. Additionally, this opportunity may be used to advance to a better position. Use on sectoids in superior cover, who are contained or clustered, or Sectoid Leaders for maximum effectiveness.

5. Psionic Disruption: Sectoids require an unknown period of time to ready their psionic abilities, which can be disrupted by suppression of the target. A sectoid under suppression has yet to use psionic abilities offensively. This tactic should be used at the discretion of the soldiers, without requiring instructions form the Squad Overseer. Use on sectoids using, or preparing to use psionic powers for maximum effectiveness.

PSIONICS: The following are psionic powers recorded and utilized against XCOM and other beings.

1. Psionic Panic: The Sectoid forces the victim into a state of uncontrolled panic rendering their behavior unpredictable. This has resulted in soldiers opening fire on friendly forces, dashing from cover into enemy fire and complete mental shutdown.

2. Psionic Disorientation (Mindfray): The Sectoid causes the victim's mind to become unstable, leading several soldiers to refer to this ability as a "Mindfray." Victims have reported headaches, disorientation, blurriness, hallucinations, and are often displaying a lack of lucidity.

3. Psionic Merge: The Sectoid has been shown to be able to psionically merge with others of its kind. It is unknown whether this is simply a more effective method of communication, provides physical or mental advantages or is a form of mind control.

4. Psionic Mind Control (Theorized): The sectoid has demonstrated an ability to control, or at least influence the minds of primitive creatures and animals. It is possible that the Psionic Merge is a form of mind control (See – Psionic Merge). The extent and specifics of this ability are currently unknown. To date this had not been performed on humans, but it is unknown whether the sectoid is incapable of this, or XCOM simply hasn't encountered one strong enough yet.