Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the characters, but they're coming into their own.

Lieutenant Maine Ockmann

06:30, Day 1

XCOM Base Hangar

Maine stepped from the Arvus' descending ramp gracefully, Bjerke's abrasive laughter following her a few steps ahead of the thick-set Lead Corporal himself. A strange character, she thought with a small smile. He seemed affable, if unpredictable. She wondered if he would willingly get closer with anyone in the unit- he seemed to avoid any communication other than jokes, insults, and his roaring laugh. His heavy accent somehow made him seem more intimidating rather than silly, and the thick black beard didn't exactly lend itself to a friendly look. But despite this, she liked him. Admittedly, Maine had not yet met a comrade she wholly disliked, but she felt like there was something more to Bjerke than he let on. She resolved to attempt to get through his guard at some point.

As the two stepped away from the Arvus, it wasted no time in moving away from the hangar entrance, and floated into line with a few other lighters of the same design. The hangar door shut tightly behind them, the sides seamlessly merging with the mountain outside, giving almost no trace as to the location of the base entrance. The hangar was relatively cramped, but Valkyries and Arvuses lined the walls as well as they could in the small space. Maine looked around interestedly. The flyers were in good condition, but were nothing special. She hoped their regiment was well-supplied. She only had a reasonable laspistol and her medical equipment with her. She looked over at her erstwhile travelling companion to find that Bjerk's attention was focused on the small group of people that stood in a loose formation nearer to the hangar's exit, presumably near the base.

"Our new comrades." Maine stated neutrally, watching the Lead Cpl.'s reaction. She noticed an expression she couldn't decipher briefly make an appearance, but was quickly smothered by Bjerke's thick, bearded smile.

"Aye! Let's hope they're not all a bunch of milksops. I suppose we're expected to go introduce ourselves, eh?" Without really waiting for an answer, he strode confidently into the midst of the soldiers. There were about two dozen of them, and a more varied group Maine had never seen. There were, of course, a number of experienced but fairly average-looking sorts. One of these was surrounded by much of the group, and seemed flustered by all the attention. They seemed to be excited about something- she caught the words "cook" and "delicious" float over the excited babble. There was a grizzled man whose face seemed a ruin. Perhaps from a death world? He didn't seem to be speaking as much, but was certainly part of the group.

Another tall man seemed to be making half the noise on his own, ranting to the younger solider in the middle of the group on how not feeding him first could- from some perspectives- be seen as heresy. Yet another man with arms like pistons wore a gas mask on his head, and stood very still at the edge of the group, watching the proceedings without a move. A massive, modified multi-laser was propped beside him. There was a soldier who was obviously a sniper, one who appeared to be attempting to get part of the groups attention, but they shunned him. Maine understood why. The guy was just… unlikeable, in some intangible way. She resolved to avoid him. A strange man in decorated armour stood quietly within the group, making a remark here or there. Another guardsman seemed to be watching him closely at all times, which tipped Maine off that he must be a psyker of some kind, if the intricate force staff he carried hadn't already. Near him was a guardsman with a sword and obviously cybernetic eye.

There was also a man with a drawn, taught face bearing the symbol of professional medicae on his uniform, just as it was on hers. She looked forward to getting to know him, and maybe learning something from one another. She searched for her rambunctious companion, wondering where he had got to while she had observed the group. Coyne had already began talking loudly to anyone who would listen about his previous exploits and expectations from them. A woman who had been withdrawn to that point might have been the only one paying attention.

Suddenly the hangar doors rumbled open once more, and she turned to face the incoming lighter. It seemed to fly a little unsteadily, and landed with a rather louder thump than her own had. Before she could wonder why, the door burst open and an ogryn tumbled out, wailing at the top of its…his lungs.

"DARRRRK! 'ARREN, IT WAS DARK IN DERE!"

Maine shook her head. She had rarely worked with ogryn for this very reason. Temperamental. Loyal to a fault, of course, and tougher than nails, but unpredictable. Not her style at all. A hulking guardsman jumped out of the Arvus after the great creature- evidently 'Arren'- and attempted to console him. The ogryn eventually consented to be led over to the others, which reminded her to attempt to integrate herself as well. It wouldn't do to be last, though she suspected that this constituted most of their outfit. It was not meant to be large, from what she could tell. Just looking around the hangar was enough to tell her that. Engineers worked at various tasks, carrying tools and supplies across the room. She could see weapons stacked neatly near the doors, seemingly waiting to be moved within. The entire area had an air of busy work, and competence- but also stank of secrecy and covert operations. Everything was just slightly… furtive. As if what they were doing wasn't typically non-heretical.

Maine shook off her doubts and approached the group confidently. She decided to attempt to get near to the younger guardsman who seemed to be the center of attention. She pushed past the shouting commissar, and craned to see. However, rather than being ignored as many of the shouting mob was, when he spied her, his face lit up in recognition and relief.

"Lieutenant Ockmann! Welcome to the to the XCOM facilities! I'm Corporal Brauhm, field medic and marksman." He shouted at her over the clamor. Maine struggled closer, until she was right beside him. He saluted, and they shook hands.

"At ease, Cpl. Why exactly.." She gestured wordlessly at all the attention he had. He shook his head ruefully.

"I'm also the cook here. My services are fairly popular with the men and women of our regiment."

Maine knew what guardsmen were expected to eat normally. She shuddered slightly. "I can see why. You said you were a medic?" The clipped, almost irritated tone of voice that she typically spoke in didn't seem to faze him one bit.

Brauhm nodded eagerly. "Not the caliber that you or Lead Sergeant Thorne are, of course. But I've been assigned to be your comrade for the duration of our mission! It's an honour to work with you, Lt.!" He saluted again. Maine hid her smile as best she could. Thorne must have been the other medic she had noticed earlier. She hoped that Brauhm was as competent as he was enthusiastic. She already suspected he was- he had steady hands that were the mark of a competent medic and marksman both- and probably cook, she reflected.

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Cpl. Have you met anyone else yet?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but the base doors opened and a tall man in scratched but obviously well-maintained armour stepped through. He didn't say anything immediately, but he had a presence that drew the room's attention to him. All quieted, even the commissar bellowing in the back. He came to a stop in front of the mass of soldiers. The lower ranked soldiers snapped to a salute promptly, and everyone else followed suit at various paces. Quite aside from the Lt.'s stripes on his uniform, this was Richard Dick, one of the only survivors of the outbreak of Xenos that they had heard so little about. But the little they knew was enough to tell them they were in the presence of someone who had seen too much. He sighed and ran his hand over his bald head.

"At ease." He spoke quietly, but his clear voice carried easily to every ear in the room. "Now that you've all arrived, the Inquisitor wishes to brief you on what we're facing here. What little we know, anyway. On me, by rank. March!" He turned smartly the way he came and began walking briskly out. There was a pause as the men and women took in what he had said, and then a flurry of practiced motion as they arranged themselves by rank and followed the Lt. through the door. Maine was quite close to the front, being one of the higher ranking officers present, but she could hear Coyne mutter mutinously about how far back he was. There was no milling around or pushing- the regiment was fluid and practiced. There were no wholly novice soldiers here.

As they marched through the base, Maine's impression of a covert operation were further enforced. The walls were cleanly cut out from the stone of the mountain, and though well-lit and smooth, it was very obvious that they were underground. They passed a number of rooms, among them the barracks, where she saw standard beds and tables for the mess lining the walls- albeit far fewer than she was used to seeing. She figured that too many men here would only hinder their progress. It looked like there was a bar further in, in addition to training facilities.

The mission control room came up next, and they filed in. She was impressed but no longer surprised by the level of tech displayed. The room was a hive of movement, reports being passed back and forth, and orders spoken firmly. However, there was no panic or disorder. It was a well-oiled machine, centered around the great holo-globe hanging in the center of the room. Red and yellow flags poked up from various spots on what was evidently Korsk's surface. There weren't too many, but Maine suspected more would appear as their mission progressed. A tall man in Inquisitorial armour stood with his back to them, overseeing the room and occasionally picking out a flag and inspecting it more closely. Richard approached him as the troops finished forming up inside the door, making sure to leave room for any person on business to get through.

"Sir. Your regiment." After speaking, Richard stepped smartly into line at the front of the group, standing respectfully at attention with the rest.

The Inquisitor turned around. He had a long, gaunt face, and heavily lined eyes. Despite his weathered appearance, he was alert and sharp, and it was obvious they were in the presence of an acutely tactical mind. He looked them over, not judging them, but appraising them- looking at each individual as one would a tool, valuing each by their material worth. It was unsettling, but Maine approved. It was the kind of leader that was needed for this outfit.

""Good morning ladies and gentlemen." His voice was low, and somehow soothing. It had an air of competence. "You are here because I have personally selected each of you to be inducted into a special forces I have dubbed Xenoform Combatta, or XCom. I am Imperial Inquisitor Lucius Evander Paullos. I will be your commander while you are here. My word is your law for your stay." He eyed each of them in turn. "You have been chosen for your unique or exceptional skills and exemplary service in the past. I see men and women from many different places before me, but united as one under the Emperor. You will be as brother and sister here, in this new regiment, and against this foe." He gestured at the holo-globe behind him. A twisted, inhuman shape with too many arms appeared on the screen. There were no gasps among the guardsmen, but it was as if everyone drew back from the image without moving. They knew what this was. Tyranid. The word was one of unknown fear, faceless and remote, but all the more terrifying for that. A designation of 'Genestealer' appeared beneath the image, detailing what was known of its combat capabilities- as well as some speculation.

"This is the enemy," said Inquisitor Paullos unnecessarily. He described the events that had occurred months previously on Korsk, and the xenos nature of the 12th legion that had erupted in hybrids. The guards' faces were grim, but determined. He began to finish his briefing. "The genestealer is stronger than you, faster than you, and some of them are probably smarter as well. You must be disciplined and work as a team in order to survive and succeed. Your orders are to get to know each other. I want you functioning as a flawless machine come deployment. You will be on standby in shifts; we could receive a mission at any time." He met all of their eyes again, very seriously. "There is a heresy afoot, ladies and gentlemen, and your efforts are all that stand between your families, your homeworlds, and boundless alien hunger. Guardsmen: you are no longer soldiers of the Imperium. You are soldiers of Humanity. Dismissed. " He turned back to the holo-globe.

The troops filed out of Mission Control and made their way back towards the barracks. There was little talk. Each guardsman was pale from the realization that they would soon be fighting aliens instead of rebels. But no one was afraid- or if they were, they used that fear to feed anger instead. No Tyranid would be setting foot off this planet. They would stomp out the infestation here.

The next week went quickly. Maine spent her time researching their enemy as much as possible- little though that was. She was worried about her ability to stand up to such creatures. Though confident she would be able to repair any damage their devastating claws could inflict on her comrades, she wondered who would stitch her up if she was hurt. As such, she had great pleasure in talking with both her assigned comrade, Cpl. Tobias Brauhm, and the reserved Lead Sgt. Fraser Thorne. She imparted what tricks she could to them, and learned a bit from Thorne as well. He was a dour man, but very good at what he did. She worried somewhat about the substance abuse that she noticed- she was a doctor, after all- but she wouldn't be the one to rat him out to his superiors, unless it caused a problem for the men he cared for. She would wait and see.

Tobias on the other hand was likeable in every way. Not only was he affable and kind, but the food he made had him beloved of the entire regiment. He could only cook so often, of course, and hardly for the whole base, but when he was able, it was a treat. He seemed to know his medical work, although his situational awareness needed practice. He focused too much on the job at hand, rather than being aware of the battle around him.

As well, Maine made a point of seeking out Lead Cpl. Coyne Bjerk whenever she could. She couldn't say why, but he interested her. Maybe it was just a result of lingering camaraderie from the shared Lighter flight, but regardless, she tried to make sense of the strange, loud man. He was often at the bar whilst off-duty, accompanied by the other more drinking-prone members of the squad. Thorne was usually there was well, which suited Maine fine. The quiet woman who had listened to Coyne at their first meeting was sometimes seen at the bar as well, sipping something dark that smelled unhealthy. Maine learned that her name was Cpl. Nadine, and she had been assigned as Coyne's comrade. Perhaps that explained her initial attention with Coyne. Regardless, Coyne didn't seem to mind Maine's company at these times, and often referenced her brusque treatment of him at their meeting, to the laughter of the men and women around him. He was popular with many of the regiment for his loud humour and booming laugh, though some seemed to be irritated by his lack of professionalism and need to be the center of attention. Maine didn't blame them, but Coyne certainly knew how to hold a spotlight.

She got to know the other members of the squad less personally, though she enjoyed the company of one 'Bob'. He was gruff, but perhaps she felt some kinship, as he was almost as scarred as she. Maine found him to be likeable and funny, and surprisingly kind despite his outward appearance. By and large, the regiment was a good group of men and women, and Maine enjoyed getting to know many of them. However, no one forgot the reason they were there, and when the alarm signaling deployment sounded, there was not a guardsman caught slacking.

Thanks for reading. Review if you want. It's not like I want you to, or anything.