Puppets

Unknown Location

The Commander was surrounded by snowy plains in a vast frozen wasteland. There was nothing but snow and ice as far as he could see, with some ice shelves in the distance and rolling snowy hills. It was perfectly calm as well, no snow blew into him and no clouds obscured the sun above. It was likely as perfect as a day could be here.

The Commander crossed his arms, noting that he was armored in his XCOM Aegis armor, minus his helmet and weapons. Well, this was certainly odd. His subconscious tended to at least pretend he was actually awake before showing stuff that didn't make sense. Maybe he was just too tired to really put effort into deceiving himself.

If so, good. He would really just prefer to go to sleep and be uninterrupted.

"I did always wonder what the arctic wastes would look like," Farida commented wistfully as she walked up behind him. "Rather beautiful, in its own way."

He turned to see her dressed in appropriate winter attire, bundled up in white jackets and pants. He wondered if she'd ever actually owned any. Though that wasn't a relevant question at the moment. "Welcome back," he muttered, looking away and into the vast white expanse.

"Sarcastic as usual," she chided. "Have you really moved on from me so fast? Do you really care about your scientist more than me? Did you care about me to begin with?"

The Commander took a breath and spun sharply to her. "Enough," he almost growled, making the illusionary woman take a step back. "You and I both know that isn't even close to how I feel." He jabbed a finger at her. "You are not real." His hand swept across the area. "This is not real. You are dead. Farida…she would be happy for me, as I would be for her if our roles were reversed. But don't mention Moira again unless you want this to end a little sooner."

"Yes, resorting to murder always works for you when things don't go your way," she taunted with a knowing smile. "Why bother to debate with people when you can just kill them? You're not killing the Council isn't because of some supposed danger to humanity. You just don't like them because they oppose you."

"Don't trivialize the situation," the Commander warned, deliberately keeping himself relaxed. "I wanted to work with them, I was willing. But they won't let the past die, and their negligence will collapse the world if allowed to continue. They need to be replaced for the good of humanity, regardless of my personal feelings towards them."

"And it isn't even partially for revenge?" Farida instead.

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "Revenge? No. But I will rest easier knowing that justice was administered to them. Not for what they did to me, but what they did to my soldiers."

Farida shook her head dramatically. "Come now, you know justice and revenge are not the same thing."

"I think that's a debate for another time," he responded evenly. "Preferably with someone alive."

"At the rate you're going, I doubt that will last much longer," she said with a smile. "And what exactly did all those people die for, hmm? A few more weeks? A month? All because they believed they actually had a chance because you lied to them. You know you can't win, and you can't even admit that to yourself."

"We killed an Ethereal," the Commander growled, taking a step towards her. "It won't be easy, but we can-"

"One Ethereal who killed half your base," she amended raising a finger. "And do you really think you'll last against another one? Or two? Or three?"

"Probably not," the Commander admitted, shoulders slumping. "But we're going to keep fighting. What's the alternative? We give up?"

"You're always going on and on about doing what's necessary to save people," Farida mocked. "Did you ever consider that you might save more people by not dragging them into a hopeless war that will kill billions? Did-"

She suddenly hacked and her hand flew to her throat as the Commander extended his mechanical arm towards her, hand positioned in a pincer motion as he telekinetically grabbed her throat. "You know, I put up with quite a lot from you," he almost snarled, taking a step toward her. "But even I have a fucking breaking point. Do you really think I don't know that people are going to die in this war? Or worse, that I don't care?"

She couldn't respond, of course, but her oxygen-deprived eyes were begging for him to release her. But she was in no danger of dying. She wouldn't until he willed it. "Do you really think I don't know that our chances are slim, that we are weak against the aliens realistically?" He continued quietly. "Oh, I do. I think about it every day. But what should I be doing then? Telling everyone to give up? No. They believe our chances are better than they are because they trust me. I have to keep ensuring that they know we can win, even if there's only a slim chance."

He released his hold on her throat and she collapsed to the snow. "And to just give up…" he paused, looking down on her emotionlessly. "I wouldn't only be condemning my people to die by the millions, I'd be condemning them to slavery, experimentation; we would be nothing more than more expendable soldiers, with our free will stripped completely. I know that people are going to die, but at least they will die free."

"I'm sure they'll thank you for that," Farida breathed. "They'll be thinking to that once they stare down alien plasma rifles. How lucky they were to die free."

"Do you really not get it?" the Commander demanded. "I can't save everyone! That may be what I want, but I have to accept that is not going to happen! We don't live in a fantasy where one hero saves all the poor innocent people, we live in reality and in reality people die!"

"Is that your excuse?" She demanded, standing up. "It's reality, so we shouldn't even try?"

The Commander's hand unconsciously fell to his hip where his pistol was securely fastened. "That isn't anything like what I said!"

"Yes it is," Farida stated with absolute certainty. "Stop lying to yourself."

He wasn't sure how to properly respond to that. He was absolutely sick of this, and her twisting of what he said so it would have the maximum impact. This perversion of Farida was the worst kind of politician, one who took everything he said and turned into the worst possible interpretation. He shouldn't have to deal with this, not when there was so much else to do.

"Do it," Farida dared. "Kill me. Take the easy way out and end the dream. Run away like you do from the hard questions."

It would be really easy to do it. It wasn't as though she deserved anything else. But he was also filled with a passion to deliberately hold back to not let this ghost have the satisfaction. He closed his eyes, consciously relaxed and opened them once more to Farida's disappointed face.

"Typical," she snorted. "Not making a decision when it counts." Her hand suddenly flew to her throat, eyes flying wider as she realized that the Commander wasn't the one telekinetically choking her. Her neck suddenly twisted sharply to the left and she collapsed to the ground, dead as much as could be in a dream.

For some reason, the Commander wasn't as surprised as he should have been. "She is, as you humans say, 'A piece of work,'" Aegis commented neutrally as he walked up, unchanged from the last time they'd spoken. But this time, his deep and echoing voice held an undercurrent of seriousness that was impossible to ignore.

The Commander physically calmed himself, before turning to deal with the newest problem. "I did wonder if I'd see you again. I can guess why you've come."

Aegis stared up him for a few seconds, his human form as still as stone. "You killed one of us."

"I know," the Commander answered. "Trust me, you don't need to remind me. I did warn-"

"You don't understand," Aegis interrupted, his layered voice becoming more pronounced. "You killed one of us. That shouldn't have happened. It should have been impossible."

"Based on what?" the Commander demanded, trying not to sound too smug. "Because you should have been invincible. Everything can die, and your kind are no different."

"No, we are not," Aegis snapped. "But not to you. Not to a species who hasn't even left their homeworld."

"That is your own fault," the Commander stated bluntly. "You wanted to test us, and because of that you gave us the tools to kill you. Why are you even this upset? That was the test, yes? To see if we could kill one of you."

"An Ethereal would never be sacrificed just to make such a pointless demonstration," Aegis answered firmly. "We know the potential of your species, there was no need to kill one of our own to prove it."

Huh. Well…that was interesting. He frowned. "Then what did the Imperator mean then?"

Aegis' head snapped to him and he began slowly circling him. "Where did you learn that name?" He asked slowly; deliberately. So nothing would be misunderstood.

The Commander blinked. "An Ethereal calling himself the Imperator contacted Patricia, as you're doing to me now." Even though Aegis didn't react, the Commander was fairly sure he knew what was happening. "You didn't know, did you?"

"What did he say?" Aegis asked slowly, tangible power gathering around him as he stared directly at the Commander.

"That there was one final test we had to pass, and that we would know when it happened," the Commander answered, maintaining his stare. "Patricia surmised that it meant killing an Ethereal, especially since there is no other test that we could face, short of a full invasion."

"Humanity passed the final test when you killed the Hive Commander," Aegis stated flatly. "There was no other test. The only decision that remained was what to do with your species."

"I don't believe Patricia was lying," the Commander defended. "Unless you have another idea?"

Aegis looked away into the snow. "No, just the opposite. I do believe you, and I wish it wasn't true."

"More of your kind are going to die," the Commander warned, walking over to him. "Win or lose, humanity is only going to get stronger. You started this war, Aegis, you and your kind. Don't act sad when you have to deal with the consequences."

"We made a mistake," Aegis said.

The Commander looked at him in confusion. "Sorry?"

"Humanity," he clarified emotionlessly. "We made a mistake. I see that now. There was a reason we were sent to your world, and it wasn't because you make excellent soldiers."

The Commander furrowed his eyebrows. "Sent?"

"I am referring to myself and the others dealing with your world," Aegis clarified. "I should have known there was more to this when the Imperator took a direct interest in your species, going so far as to contact one, apparently. There is only one reason for that, when even the Sectoids and Vitakara were dismissed by him."

This was certainly interesting. "And what would that reason be?"

Aegis was silent for a few moments. "Not yet, Commander. But both our species' roles are different than what I originally thought. We cannot continue as we were, for the sake of the galaxy."

The Commander snorted. "What, you think that this will end in peace? I doubt that the Imperator will stand for one of his own dying, and you're deluded if you think we would ever trust you after what you've done already."

"I agree," Aegis said after a few moments. "War is inevitable, and you know it will escalate soon. There is little you can do to prepare. Your armies are nothing against our own, your species is too diverse, too scattered to form a resistance. You don't have enough powerful psions to mount a successful defense."

The Commander's lips curled up. "I know. But leave the details to me. Why do you even care? As it stands you're on the right side, militarily."

Aegis was silent at that. Then he pointed in the distance. "See that?"

The Commander squinted in the distance. There was some sort of squarish building ahead, with a hangar-like building nearby. "What is that?"

"EXALT's headquarters," Aegis answered wistfully. "The Bastion. You know the coordinates now. What you do with them is up to you."

The Commander turned to him incredulously. "I've asked this before, but why are you helping me?"

"Because, Commander, you need all the help you can get." Aegis looked over to him. "We will not speak again here. Use what I've given you well. Your time is short, and the next time we will meet, it will be on Earth."

The Commander inclined his head. "Very well. Regardless of your reasons, I am thankful. It will be an honor to kill you on the battlefield."

Aegis smiled. "Be careful what you wish for, Commander. You might get it."

The entire world vanished and he woke up.

The Citadel, Commander's Bedroom

He woke with a gasp, unfortunately startling Vahlen who was lying next to him, her head resting on his shoulder. She shifted as she woke up, looking up at him blearily. What Aegis had said was important, but it could wait a few more hours until everyone was fully awake. "Sorry," he apologized, relaxing back down. "Didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, we've still got a few hours."

She might have bought that, had she not been a psion. Instead she blinked the sleep out of her eyes and fixed him with an analytical stare while he sensed her probing at him. "What's wrong?" She asked. "Bad dream?"

He wasn't sure if she was trying to be funny or not, but he didn't really feel amused either way. He sighed and sat himself up a little straighter. "Something like that, I suppose. Usually don't wake up quite that dramatically."

Vahlen also sat herself up, looking at him with a frown. "I think you mentioned this before. You don't sleep well, thought you never explained why."

"I did," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Lucid dreaming. Been happening to me as long as I can remember. Frequently too, very rarely do I get a night of sleep with nothing."

The worry eased, then morphed into curiosity. Well, in her defense, it was interesting. "Really?" She asked curiously. "That's incredible."

He snorted. "It was incredible when I was a kid. Not so much now." He paused, trying to think of how to articulate it. "Now it's mostly just judgments and arguments, while my subconscious forces me to defend all of my actions. Literally arguing with myself, but it never feels that way, even when I know none of it is real."

Vahlen went back to being concerned. "And you remember everything? Can't you control it?"

"I can delay it," he clarified. "But it always comes back. I can't get rid of it forever, and there's only been two ways I die or I kill the one arguing with me. Alternatively, I get kicked out by a psion, though that's only happened when Aegis has shown up."

"Ah," she laid one of her hands on his mechanical one. "Are they people you know? Have known?"

"It never really started like this until the War on Terror," he admitted. "But ever since then it's only been one. Farida. Or her likeness at least."

"I see," Vahlen said slowly. "So you've…"

"Yes."

"You haven't tried to…" Vahlen motioned aimlessly. "Remove it…her. You're psionic now, so that might help."

"Perhaps," he acknowledged. "But I don't want to, as tiring as it is. I need to be able to defend what I do, even if ultimately it doesn't matter. Sometimes enemies are more honest than friends."

Vahlen looked like she was going to question that, but then relaxed some. "I understand that, although our work is hard enough without dealing with imaginary opponents."

He chuckled. "Yes, true. But it's always just a dream and I wake up. It's better to wake up now when I'm not alone anymore."

"Flatterer," she chided, moving over to lean against him. "You should take your advice and try to get back to sleep. Even if just for a bit."

Unfortunately he did need to bring up the other part. "It wasn't just that this time either. Aegis showed up."

Vahlen stiffened against him. "What did he say?"

"I think…" the Commander said slowly. "That the Ethereals may not be as honest with each other as we thought. He was genuinely surprised that we killed the Ethereal, and said that we-humanity-had passed whatever tests they had set out for us long ago."

Vahlen looked up at him. "So does that mean the Imperator was lying…or didn't tell them?"

"Both, perhaps," the Commander suggested. "But he seemed upset that we'd managed to kill one at all. It wasn't supposed to happen, so he says. He didn't elaborate why, but I think there's a lot more going on than we know about."

"And are they going to retaliate?"

"Aegis said there would be war," the Commander revealed grimly. "That our time is short. Not that we needed confirmation, but…I suppose we know for sure now."

"Why does he bother?" Vahlen asked. "It seems…counterproductive."

"He was cagey about that as well," the Commander shrugged. "Perhaps he's got his own plan. But he also shared something else: the location of EXALT's main base of operations. The Bastion."

"Well, that saves us some time," Vahlen muttered. "Though we likely would have found it quickly thanks to Annette. But it's still curious. The rest of the Internal Council will need to hear it."

"Let's deal with that in a few hours," the Commander suggested, lying back down. "I don't think we'll have to deal with a major crisis for a while." She snuggled against him and they fell back asleep within a few minutes.

Israel, Tel Aviv

Two guards, limited security cameras, windows and a cloudy night.

Couldn't get much better than this.

Javed Falka, Iranian Quds Force operative, and EXALT agent looked across the street at his target house. Modest, for a cabinet member, but was definitely the home of someone well-off. He would have thought there would be more security, but he supposed that the Minister of the Economy wouldn't be a target for hostile agents.

Until now, at least.

Javed wasn't entirely sure why Director Vyandar and the Spymaster wanted to start a war, but it really wasn't his place to ask. This was why he'd been inserted into Iran into the first place, to act as an agent to watch and execute orders from above. Granted, he'd genuinely expected that the most he'd be able to give EXALT were Iranian operations, names and strategies.

Especially since Iran wasn't exactly doing much these days.

That being said, assassinating an Israeli Cabinet member hadn't been one of the tasks he'd been anticipating having to carry out. He doubted he was the only one either; it was going to take more than one dead Israeli to start a war, even with hard evidence Iran was behind it. So there were undoubtable others, and did make him curious as to the end game.

True, the Middle East wasn't a stable region, and rather backwards in a lot of ways. Perhaps EXALT was deciding that it was time to change that, and Israel was probably the best force in the region to do so. Whether Israel actually had the capability to wage a war against the entire Middle East was up for debate, but that wasn't his problem.

Nope. All he had to do was kill the Minister, plant the evidence, and leave.

Fortunately he was good at that. Very good.

Thanks to EXALT agents within the Mossad, he had the schematics for the house, as well as security rotations, camera placements and alarms. More than sufficient for taking out one man. Even easier since he was unmarried and thus alone. No need to worry about messing up a perfect family.

He casually made his way across the street, making sure to keep out of the lines of sight of the guards, then once on the side, snuck a glance up at the lazily swiveling camera. He raised his silenced pistol and fired. It buzzed faintly and stopped moving. Broken. Excellent. One down, four to go.

He began to circle the house, taking care no one was watching and aimed at the second camera and fired. Another down. He continued circling to the other side and repeated the procedure with the last two cameras. Almost too easy, truth be told.

Now for the guards.

Also a simple matter. They weren't wearing helmets, just typical suits with body armor underneath and no combat gear whatsoever. Javed raised his pistol and fired twice, and both men fell to the ground an instant later, dead. He quickly swept his gaze over the deserted street, and once he was certain no one was looking, rushed over to their bodies and quickly checked their pockets.

Nothing, nothing, nothing, ah, here. He pulled out a keyring with several keys hanging from it. That done, he quickly moved the bodies to the sides of the house in case any civilians came by. What he'd done would definitely incriminate him since he wasn't wearing gloves, and leaving plenty of DNA evidence for the Israelis to follow.

But that was part of the plan.

The bodies taken care of, he walked up to the door and inserted one of the keys. With a satisfying click the door unlocked and he entered the house. Once inside, he didn't even bother searching the lower floor since he knew the bedroom was upstairs. Carefully making his way up the creaking steps, he looked cautiously on the top floor, still seeing nothing.

If everything was right, the bedroom would be the second door to the right. Javed quietly walked over to the closed door, reached for the brass handle and pushed. No reaction, so he cautiously opened it fully…

And smiled.

There he was, lying still on the bed without a care in the world right now. He looked tranquil. At peace. Javed didn't feel the need to drag this out any longer the necessary, so he just aimed directly at the Minister's head and fired directly into the brain, killing him instantly. As blood soaked the sheets and pillows, he began to mess up the room, to make it look as though a fight had taken place.

First he had to move the body to make it look like he'd at least fought back. He shot him a few more times in the arms and legs, as well as forcing his eyes open. By the time he was done, the bed itself was completely stained red, and the man no longer had a peaceful expression on his face.

Family mementos were knocked off, nightstands overturned, blood smeared here and there. Yes…this was sufficient. There was only one possible thing they could deduce from this: The Minister of the Economy had been assassinated, and it was the Iranian operative Javed Reza responsible.

Because they would learn his identity thanks to the DNA and fingerprint evidence he was leaving behind, and would then begin searching for when he entered Tel Aviv. From there they would find where he'd been staying, as well as some partially burned documents detailing his orders. Fake, of course, but the Iranian seal would survive, as well as proof of his identity.

Enough to conclude without a doubt that this operation had been sanctioned by Iran.

Which was all he wanted.

Job done, he quietly exited the house, making sure to ditch the pistol into a trash can.

His old identity was dead now, and he was exceptionally curious to see where EXALT would place him next.

The Citadel, Mess Hall

"What do you think will happen now?" Shun asked from across the table. "It doesn't look like the Commander is going to lock you up. Doesn't really seem like anyone cares now."

Nartha had to agree, and had been pleasantly surprised by the fact that the soldiers were being…normal…around him. Not even necessarily friendly, but just…going about their day. Not looking at him, afraid he'd suddenly turn on them. Amazing what fighting against an alien force with them did for trust levels.

But as for what would happen next…he genuinely had no idea.

"I don't know," he admitted, lacing his fingers together. "The death of an Ethereal is…unprecedented."

"It's never happened before?" Shun pressed curiously. "Ever?"

"Not from any records I've found," Nartha answered. "Though I'm sure there was something that thinned their numbers. But whatever happened to them before, they were essentially invincible to us…until now."

The corners of her lips twitched. "They'll want revenge."

"Not necessarily revenge," Nartha suggested with a shrug. "But I suspect humanity has just attracted a lot of unwanted attention. The Ethereals won't take kindly to the death of one of their own. It's no longer a matter of if an invasion is coming, but when."

"In the state we're in, that doesn't look good," Shun sighed sadly. "A lot of people died. Annette. Myra. Bradford."

"Samuel," Nartha added, feeling a wave of sadness come over him. Even if Samuel had never fully forgiven him for lying, he was still a friend to him at the beginning, and Nartha would never forget that. Without Samuel, he might not have gotten as good of an impression of humanity as he had now. "Not just for XCOM either. The mutons and sectoids might not care about individuality, but those Borelians did. The Vitakara government will have questions now."

"Ah, right," she sympathized. "I know they were your species. Is there any special burial ceremonies that you do for fallen soldiers?"

"Not for the Lurainian," he answered with a shake of his head. "Burial varies from species to species normally. Vitakarian funerals are kept low-key, with only immediate family at them. Maybe a few close friends. Usually no extended family or relatives. Not like how you generally do them. But Vitakara in the military don't get that usually, at best their names are read from a general assembly honoring the fallen. Lurainian and Zararch excluded, of course."

"Makes sense," she sighed.

"Besides," Nartha added with a small smile. "I don't think Vahlen is particularly concerned about following any last rites."

"Probably not," Shun agreed. "So those…other aliens. You recognize them?"

Nartha pursed his lips. "No. I didn't, and that's concerning."

Concerning that it indicated that Ethereals had located a completely new species, and that the Zararch hadn't been aware such a contact had taken place. If they were already integrated into the main collective, then the Ethereals must have known about them for several years, and if that had happened, then there might be even more alien species they had no idea about.

However…he suspected that the Zar'Chon had known about them. He'd had to, since the Zararch were instrumental in the analysis and integration of new species, it was more likely that he just hadn't been allowed access to that information, which did make sense. But it wasn't good news for XCOM, that was for sure.

"How many more species do you think they have?" Shun asked, motioning aimlessly. "Just a rough estimate."

"They could have a dozen, or none," Nartha stated bluntly. "I have no idea. I know that there are several highly advanced species further in the galaxy, but nothing about them. Undeveloped species number in the dozens, and species that can actually be used…in the single digits at best."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Really? There is that much sentient life?"

"Yes," Nartha answered. "But very few reach the state your species is. Most of the time they are hunted to extinction by native animals, a disease wipes them out, or they simply destroy themselves. There are quite a few species the Ethereals find, but don't utilize simply because they haven't developed enough. But they do keep tabs on them for sure."

"But they don't use them unless they're viable," Shun concluded.

"Exactly," Nartha nodded. "Intelligence isn't a requirement, only if they can fulfill a certain role. The chryssalids are one such example. Beasts, but ones that are useful weapons of terror. I once looked at the history, and it seems like they started out much smaller. They were insects that reproduced in the bodies of other creatures, but generally weren't aggressive except during certain times."

"So how were they found in the first place?" Shun asked.

"Well…" Nartha paused, leaning back as he thought. "It was a planet with an underdeveloped species. Nothing worth noting. But one of the observers noticed the insects and that got the attention of an Ethereal, I don't know which one. But I know that the sectoids were ordered to examine the insect, and they created a prototype chryssalid they use today."

"Lucky guess," Shun commented. "Did they…test it?"

"Of course they tested it," Nartha snorted. "They released it back onto the planet and that one chryssalid managed to virtually eradicate the native species, and pretty much everything else that was alive. The experiment was a success, and chryssalids became the newest weapon in the Ethereal arsenal."

Shun looked down at her plate of food, picking at it absentmindedly. "They're efficient, I'll give them that."

"That they are," Nartha agreed. "Moving back to what happens next…well, I don't think you have to fear your species being wiped out. You've proven you have value, and the Ethereals won't just throw away a species that has the potential to kill them."

Shun looked him in the eye. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"That they'll use you?"

"That we'll agree to it," she amended wearily. "Humans…most of us aren't that smart or brave. A planet-wide war will lead to fatigue, and fatigue will lead to protests, and protests will lead to rebellion and soon the Ethereals will just offer peace if we surrender…and I'm afraid most of us will. Especially if the alternative is a never-ending war with a collective that outmatches us in every way."

"XCOM will never give up," Nartha stated. "I don't think the governments will either."

"You know of the domino effect?" She asked.

He nodded. "It won't happen all at one," she continued. "But once it does, it will only get larger. One country will surrender, then two more. Then that gets the other countries wondering if it's worth it. Then say the Ethereals take those countries that surrendered and turn them into false paradises; places they can point to and lie 'Look at what we can offer you,' people are going to fall for that, XCOM or no."

She unfortunately had a point. "I don't think the Commander will allow that," he said, knowing how unrealistic that sounded.

"But what can he do about it?" She asked. "Take command of each country himself? Establish XCOM as the new world government?"

"Not as long as the UN still stands," Nartha muttered.

"Forget the UN," Shun dismissed. "No one cares about them. The countries care about sovereignty. Independence. Working together is only needed when both sides clearly benefit. Nations won't willingly give up that, not even when refusing means the death or enslavement of everyone. I don't delude myself. China would never submit to being under a world power, and I doubt the United States or Russia would agree to something like that either."

"You have a somewhat cynical view of your own species," he noted. "Why?"

"You know what I did," Shun sighed. "I've seen how easily people can be controlled, how little some of them think. They don't care about ideals, freedom or anything like that. The most important thing I've seen for the vast majority is stability. As long as people are kept content, they can be controlled. Talk to those North Koreans if you want to see effective indoctrination in practice. There is an art to controlling people…and it's not difficult."

"In that case…" Nartha paused. "Could that be used to our advantage?"

"Probably," Shun shrugged. "But I'm just a soldier now. That's way above me, but I do have faith the Commander knows what he's doing. Zhang and Patricia to."

"We'll I'll hope for the best," Nartha said. "I suspect I won't be here much longer, even if the Commander has forgotten about me for the moment."

"Oh," she raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

"I don't think I can tell you," he said slowly. "But it won't be here."

She studied him for a few minutes, clearly thinking what that could mean. She was a smart woman, so it probably didn't take her that long to suspect. "You think we'll meet again?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I hope so."

"So do I," she agreed quietly. "You definitely are a lot more interesting than I first assumed."

He smiled. "I'll take what I can get. You are interesting to talk to as well."

"I suppose that's to be expected when two species meet," she commented. "I hope this ends with us winning. After what you've told me, I'd love to see Vitakar."

As did he. "We do that, and I'll show you it personally."

"Sounds like a plan," she said happily, her face relaxing a bit. Then it quickly returned to seriousness. "Looks like you've got company coming."

Nartha turned to see Zhang walking up to him. "This might be it," he told Shun, turning back to her. "In that case…goodbye."

She inclined her head. "Goodbye, Nartha. 活着的我."

He didn't know what she said, but perhaps that was alright. He wouldn't be sad to leave Earth knowing that he had a friend here. Give him something of a connection beyond the greater war. He stood and walked over to Zhang. "Come with me," the tall Chinese man ordered, no room for questioning in his voice.

Nartha obediently followed, feeling rather small beside the much larger man. He'd never really noticed that before, even though Zhang had interrogated him several times. Sitting apparently made a difference. "So what am I going to be doing?" He asked.

"What we discussed," Zhang stated. "The Commander has decided to release you back to the Zararch to act as an agent. As you're more familiar with them, what story you tell them will be up to you, as well as deciding the method of contact between us. And while you're there…there is something you will also do."

Nartha nodded, the cold reality of the situation setting down on him. Fortunately he'd thought of this ahead of time, during one of his long bouts in the cell. He did wonder what they specifically wanted from him, but he figured he'd know that soon enough. "Understood, Director. Here is what my plan is..."

The Citadel, Mission Control

Of course there was a new crisis.

The good news was that it didn't sound like an invasion, but Jackson had sounded…concerned, and the fact that Zhang was coming up as well didn't bode well for the scale of this new crisis. Though he did wonder what could possibly warrant it, besides a war or a Council nation withdrawing. Perhaps the aliens were performing an abduction or a UFO was in the air? Best case scenario probably.

Whatever the case, Mission Control was as busy as he'd ever seen it, especially since Jackson's team was still replacing staff, though they had enough to function adequately now. It was a good thing they'd had replacements already lined up in the event one had to be replaced. It was doubly hectic since the Hephaestus Contingency was being implemented, and they were working with banged-up equipment.

The air in Mission Control still smelled slightly of plasma and ozone, as the holes and scorch marks in the walls hadn't been removed yet, as repairing the computers had taken priority. The hologlobe was back to being functional, as well as all the screens. Zhang and Jackson were conversing over by another screen, Jackson feeling concerned, while Zhang felt…well, curious. And oddly enough, surprised.

It Zhang was surprised, that wasn't good. Ignoring the rest of the analysts, he strode over to them, both turning as he approached. "What's going on?"

"A lot," Jackson answered unhelpfully, pushing her hair back before consulting her tablet. "So what do you want first? The bad news, the other bad news or the good news?"

"Bad news first," he answered instantly. "Let's get that out of the way."

"Right," she sighed. "At least half of the Israeli Executive Cabinet is dead."

The Commander blinked, several scenarios running though his mind. "Dead? Or assassinated?"

"Those two are not mutually exclusive," Zhang commented dryly. "Officially, unconfirmed. Unofficially, there was a coordinated strike on the Israeli government."

"Who exactly died?" He demanded, as Jackson handed him the tablet.

"I think it's easier to say who's still alive," she amended. "Which in essence boils down to Ministers who don't deal with matters of national security or the economy. The Minister of Justice is in critical condition, but they're hopeful he'll pull through."

"Do we know who?" He asked, looking up at them.

"There are conflicting reports so far," Zhang answered, brow furrowing. "They have confirmed one of the assassins was Iranian, and it appears like several of the others are from Saudi Arabia, Iraq and possible Yemen."

"So this looks like a coordinated strike," he said slowly. "Is there any evidence?"

"They have one of the suspects in custody now," Jackson informed. "But yes…and the government is slowly releasing it to the public. The police, Mossad and several independent investigators are going through everything."

"And the Prime Minister?"

"Alive," Jackson said sadly. "But likely because he wasn't at his home when the assassin entered. His family was killed instead."

The Commander was legitimately surprised. Not that something like this had happened, since he'd suspected that would be what it took for Nowinski to enact his Advent Operation. No, what surprised him was that this seemed to be legitimate. The Middle East seemed to have effectively declared war on Israel and he had no clue as to why.

"Are there any formal accusations yet?" He asked slowly, looking up at one of the muted screens running the story.

"Nothing official," Zhang repeated. "Though Nowinski had set a press conference at one. I suspect then it will happen. But the evidence released to the media seems to clearly indicate where the blame is going to be laid."

"Why the hell would they do this?" He muttered incredulously. "Excluding the aliens, this is how you get Israel to start a justified war. The United States might become involved now."

"It is puzzling," Zhang admitted slowly. "There was no indication that anything like this was being planned, let alone coordinated by other countries. Perhaps they feel this is their last chance before the aliens come?"

"How have they responded so far?" He asked.

"Saudia Arabia is silent, as is Iraq," Jackson answered. "Iran has vehemently denied that it was behind it, citing either a rogue agent or a set up by another nation."

"At least they didn't accuse Israel of planting it themselves," the Commander muttered. "But do they really think Israel is going to believe that? Or anyone else for that matter? Who else besides the rest of the Middle East would attack them?"

"Not to this scale," Jackson agreed, shaking her head. "And the attacks are receiving universal condemnation from across the world. Both the United States and Russia have pledged to support Israel moving forward. We might want to make a statement as well, as they are our allies."

"I'll draft something," he promised. "But I think it's clear which way this is going now. Israel is going to take control of the Middle East and I wager war will be declared at this press conference."

"Considering the number of Israeli troops moving out, as well as Russian mobilization, I tend to agree," Zhang confirmed. "This will ultimately help us."

"But the timing couldn't be worse," the Commander said. "A war, even with the backing of Russia and America, will take months. The Ethereals will catch them in the middle of it, and we need Israel fighting the aliens, not other countries."

"But he doesn't know what we do," Jackson pointed out. "By his reasoning, Nowinski probably thinks that there won't be a better chance. And he really has no choice in his response. Others forced his hand."

Which was the problem. Nowinski was not only going to get to take control of the Middle East, he was going to do it completely justified. If one or two people had been assassinated, he wouldn't have been surprised to learn that the Kidon had actually been behind it. But half the cabinet, and his family? No, not even Nowinski would go that far. At the moment, he doubted that the aliens were the first concern on his mind.

"Keep monitoring the situation," he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "And set up a meeting with Nowinski when you can. I should talk to him before the war starts."

"Will do," Jackson nodded.

"So…" the Commander braced himself. "The next bad news?"

"Right…" Jackson's mood soured considerably. "Brazil has officially invaded Bolivia and Paraguay as of four hours ago."

The Commander cocked his head, not sure he'd heard correctly. "Why?"

"It recently came to light that those countries had been partially funding several of the cartels that the Marshal has been trying so hard to get rid of," she explained grimly. "That appears to be an act of war in her books, and she wasted no time sending soldiers to retaliate."

"Is it even legitimate?" He asked.

"It does appear so," Zhang confirmed. "Several high-ranking members of both governments had cartel ties, and even if there's no evidence their respective heads of state knew about it, I find that hard to believe. As does the Marshal, apparently."

"Attacking without solid proof is not good," the Commander said. "Several dirty politicians isn't enough to warrant an invasion."

"The Marshal doesn't need a reason," Jackson scowled. "That's just how she is. She wants to expand Brazil and will take any opportunity presented before her, and will likely have the backing of the people. And few are really talking about this because of the situation in Israel."

The Commander scratched his chin. Something didn't seem right here. "This seems like a massive coincidence. Two wars at the same time? Within hours of each other? Something doesn't add up."

"I agree," Zhang nodded. "As legitimate as this looks, I suspect that everyone involved is being manipulated. The question is who."

"There really are only two possible groups that could be connected to both incidents," Jackson said slowly. "EXALT and the aliens themselves."

"If we didn't know the Zararch had agents who could impersonate humans, I would say EXALT," the Commander said. "But EXALT starting these wars makes no sense, especially since they've likely learned we were attacked and survived. They have to know an invasion is coming. Starting wars isn't really conductive to that."

"Whereas the aliens can take full advantage of it," Zhang finished with a nod. "With one fell swoop they've taken Brazil and Israel out of the immediate picture, as well as the Middle East, and portions of the United States and Russia. Several of the largest countries in the world without firing a shot."

"Damn," he cursed. "In which case EXALT may be in more trouble than we assumed, if the aliens are relying on their own agents instead of supposedly allied EXALT ones."

"There is the possibility EXALT betrayed us," Jackson pointed out. "The Ethereals might have cleaned house and installed friendly puppets."

"Except that the Director would have planned for that," the Commander answered. "At the very least there'd be a civil war in EXALT right now, and unless you've heard something about that, I don't think that's happened."

"I've not seen anything to indicate such," Zhang admitted. "But…this is assuming that EXALT wasn't buying time to begin with."

"They've kept to their truce so far," the Commander reminded him. "But since we know their base, I'll be sure to mention something of that effect to the Director when I pay her a visit."

"I also doubt it's EXALT," Jackson added. "Seeing as how both Israel and Brazil are allies, I don't really see how this gains them any sort of advantage. Unless they have a death wish, using the chaos to insert their own people is the only way I see they could gain. And under ADVENT, all government officials will be psionically screened, which would reveal any EXALT or alien moles."

"They know we have psions," the Commander agreed. "They would have to know it's too much of a risk."

"We'll have to wait and see how both situations play out," Zhang agreed. "My own operatives will keep a close eye on both governments."

"In the meantime, you had some good news?" The Commander asked, turning back to Jackson.

"We do," she confirmed, relaxing a bit. "We've definitely located an alien base in the Arctic. We have visuals, coordinates, everything. No outward defenses that we can see, but I'm certain it's occupied." She handed him the tablet with a satellite image of the base, a mostly rectangular building with ramps along the sides. Definitely alien, and probably went underground as well.

"We should probably strike now then," the Commander said. "Before the invasion hits."

"Skyranger is prepped and ready," Jackson confirmed. "All we need is a team."

"I'll have a team put together," the Commander said. "Including me and Patricia."

"Noted," Jackson nodded. "I'll keep everything running here, and hopefully within a few days we'll be ready to fully transition to the new base. Speaking of which, do you have a name?"

"A couple," he mused. "But I'll make that decision later. Right now it's time for the aliens to defend a base of their own."

Zhang inclined his head. "Then good luck, Commander. We will be monitoring the situation from here."

"Good luck to you as well," the Commander answered, turning to prepare for the attack. "Let's hope this attack goes a little better than the last one."