April 23, 1958
Deep in the bowels of the Pentagon, a frenzy was in progress. Analysts and experts and advisors of all sorts scurried around and spoke in hushed voices, all in reaction to the incredible event that had occurred earlier that day:
In space, not far beyond the orbit of the moon, an incredibly powerful heat and energy signature had been detected. The military had quickly stepped in, clamping down on civilian observatories that had also discovered it, and military analysts brainstormed theories of what exactly it could be.
At first it was, naturally, thought to be some kind of Soviet device. They had, after all, launched the Sputnik probe not even a year ago. It wasn't inconceivable that it was some kind of non-publicized Soviet project.
Then the device did something impossible: from what America's best physicists could tell, the craft's mass was not...static. When it appeared to activate its engines and move on an intercept course with Earth, it moved faster than any craft ever made by man. The Soviets couldn't possibly have something so advanced. No one on Earth had that kind of technology. So, with the impossible eliminated, the improbable remained: the craft was not of Earth.
Hence, the incredible frenzy sweeping through the Pentagon.
-ooOOoo-
Lieutenant Commander Ernest Smith led his flight of F-8 Crusaders on their assigned patrol path. The higher-ups had not deigned to disclose what exactly it was he and his men were patrolling for. As such, it came as something of a surprise when a colossal aircraft appeared out of the clouds. The fact that he could still clearly see it despite its obvious distance gave a measure of just how enormous the craft really was.
"Uh...command, this is eight flight. We've got a visual on an unidentified contact, please advise." he said into his radio. Even for a consummate professional like him, concealing the unease in his voice was a challenge.
"Eight flight, command, please describe the contact." came the reply.
"It's...very large. Larger than any aircraft I've ever seen. Profile is not aerodynamic, almost...boxy looking, though there's what looks to be some kind of engine shape in the rear of its profile. Can't see much detail at this range." there was no response for almost a full minute.
"Command, please advise." he said again.
"Eight flight, be advised, contact possible UFO of alien origin. Say again, alien origin. You are to approach at low speed and attempt communication." came the eventual reply.
What?
Aliens? "Attempt communication" how the hell was he supposed to do that? Despite his misgivings, he followed orders, and his flight moved in towards the UFO. When they got to a closer range, Ernest could see the craft in greater detail, including what looked very much like some kind of weapon mounts to Ernest's eyes.
"Command, be advised, UFO appears to be armed. Please advise." he said into the radio.
"Eight flight, you are to broadcast the following message…"
And so, Ernest Smith became the first human to attempt to communicate with an alien intelligence, broadcasting a simple greeting over his plane's radio.
Thirty-seven seconds later, Ernest Smith became one of the first five humans to be killed by an alien intelligence, as the UFO fired on eight flight with a laser array, instantly destroying every plane in the unit, save one. The remaining pilot jerked his plane down into a rapid dive, acting on instinct. The move saved his life, as when the UFO fired again barely a second later it only damaged the plane instead of completely destroying it. The pilot was able to return to base in his half-dead plane, the sole survivor.
-ooOOoo-
With the rapid mobilization of so many NATO aircraft in the North Atlantic, the Warsaw Pact had begun a mobilization of its own, fearing NATO invasion. It was then that secret talks between the two great powers began. The NATO scientists confirmed what the Soviet ones had already suspected: the contact seen in the skies earlier had been of alien origin.
Even as the two powers discussed their strategic options, the US was about to take a gamble. The UFO was pretty hard to miss on radar, what with it being the size of a guided missile destroyer that had somehow learned to fly. Pinpointing where the craft was going wasn't difficult: it was heading for the north of the US's eastern seaboard. With the destruction of eight flight, a decision was made.
Almost a hundred planes were ordered to converge on the UFO's position. Their mission: to shoot down the alien ship and protect the eastern seaboard, at any cost. The planes gathered together and then made an attack run on the ship.
The UFO's laser defense fired non-stop, and some kind of extremely advanced kinetic weapon now joined the fray, claiming the lives of dozens of pilots in less than a minute. However, some of those pilots were able to get their missiles away, and even against the incredibly advanced alien defenses, some missiles were still able to hit their target.
The damage to the ship was substantial. It was forced on a dramatic trajectory change, heading for what was likely to be a crash landing. It's likely impact spot would be in Iceland.
-ooOOoo-
Lieutenant John "Jack" Miller led his platoon forward with the rest of their infantry company. It was still something of a shock to know that, barely two miles across from them, a unit of Soviet infantry was likely advancing in the exact same manner. What really floored him was the knowledge that those troops were advancing as allies, not enemies. Like everyone else in the operation, he'd been briefed on what it was they were facing. Nevertheless, it still surprised him how quick the two mortal enemies had been to set aside their differences. The higher-ups must be scared shitless if they're working together like this.
Not that Jack could blame them. He was scared shitless too. He had a duty to his men though, he couldn't let them down. So, when the torso of his point man suddenly exploded, splattering blood over the green Army fatigues of the men behind him, he didn't miss a beat.
"DOWN!" he roared, hitting the dirt even as he shouted.
Bullets whizzed overhead. Alien bullets. Jack looked around and saw his men returning fire, M14s barking as they spat their .308 caliber bullets at the enemy. It didn't seem to give the aliens much pause, as all around him men of his own platoon and of the rest of the company died grizzly deaths as the strange alien bullets ripped through them. They were getting ripped apart, even at this range.
"We have to move up! Everyone, on me!" Jack screamed to be heard over the noise of battle.
The other officers had apparently had the same idea, as all around him the troops sprang from their cover and began rapidly advancing forward. The casualties were grievous, but they were rewarded when the humans got close and for the first time saw their enemy in the flesh. Jack didn't stop to think as he fired at the...thing that had been knocked down in front of him. A strange purplish sheen appeared over the alien as Jack fired, which only prompted Jack to fire more. Eventually, the purple thing dissipated, and blood splattered out of the fallen alien.
Only when he was sure it was dead did Jack really look at it. It wasn't an attractive sight. The alien had a sinister appearance. Blood red eyes and a squashed nose hung over a strange mouth filled with razor sharp teeth that it bared even in death. It's body had two arms and two legs like a human, but that was the end of its similarities. It held three claw-like fingers on each hand, with spines on its elbows. It's knees looked more like a dog's or a rabbit's, and it wore no shoes on it's clawed feet. It was clothed only in simple briefs and bandoleers of some sort draped over its shoulders. It did not fit the image of the enlightened alien come to save humanity from itself seen in so many movies these days.
Jack didn't get to look at the alien for long, as the human attack continued, with troops flooding in at breakthroughs in the aliens' defensive positions. Real progress began to be made when tank support, in the form of M48 Pattons, rolled in and began firing on the more fortified alien positions.
Casualties were still horrendous. The dead far outnumbered the wounded, as the incredibly powerful alien guns ripped apart the insides of anyone unlucky enough to be hit in their center of mass. Most of the wounded had been hit in one of their extremities. Not even the tanks were safe, as even the alien small arms seemed to be able to shred through their armor if they concentrated their fire for long enough. Despite this, the advance still continued. Jack led what was left of his platoon through the carnage, stepping over the corpses of a strange, four-eyed alien that seemed to be of an entirely separate species than the ones he had encountered earlier.
When he could see the form of what must be the alien ship in the distance, his platoon came under heavy fire. Jack was hit by a graze in his lower leg. Unfortunately, the nature of the alien weapons meant that even a graze was a serious wound. He was, reluctantly, evacuated to the rear line while his senior NCO took command.
-ooOOoo-
With his leg wound dressed, Jack had little to do but sit around at the field hospital, his leg propped up, and wonder anxiously about the fate of his men. To occupy the time, he'd found himself chatting with a fellow by the name of Eric, a British Lieutenant who'd taken a grizzly wound to the arm, and seemed to be eager to take his mind off of the injury.
"Well, let's suppose it really is a scout mission, who would they be scouting for?" Jack asked.
"Their equivalent of a nation, presumably. Perhaps they're just the advanced unit of a larger alien fleet, already on its way." Eric said.
"What could they possibly want? What could they get here that they couldn't find on some other planet that isn't occupied by a bunch of angry natives? If they can manage to travel here, they can manage to travel anywhere, right? So why not just move on to the next world?" Jack said.
"Maybe livable worlds like ours are a rare commodity. Could be that there aren't enough of them to go around, so it's worth the cost of invasion. Of course, this is assuming that resources are a motive for them at all. They could have a motive that we wouldn't be able to comprehend. They're not even human, after all." Eric said.
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by an incredibly loud noise and gust of wind that rattled the cloth of the tent they were in.
"The hell was that?" Jack shouted.
The explosion had been the detonation of the alien vessel. The human troops, who had been steadily closing in, were eviscerated in the blast, along with what few aliens survived, and almost everything else within a little less than a kilometer.
-ooOOoo-
The "Iceland Incident", as it came to be called, was one of the most closely guarded secrets in human history. Those few who were still alive who had witnessed the course of events and survived were sworn to secrecy, destined to be kept under surveillance for the rest of their lives.
To the rest of the world, the Iceland Incident was a watershed moment in the Cold War, where an attempted Soviet invasion of Iceland was stopped by a rash deployment of a nuclear weapon on the island that scared both sides into a truce. Direct lines of communication were opened, treaties were signed, and both nations weathered the political and diplomatic fallout of their official actions.
To the few hundred people who knew the truth, the Iceland Incident was the single most important event in recorded history. The survivors of the event on both sides were gathered together to found the Xenonauts: a joint Soviet-NATO organization that would meticulously research the incident, and develop weapons and tactics to protect humanity from a now very real alien threat.
At first, the Xenonauts enjoyed a wealth of funding, and were able to set up underground surveillance facilities and radar arrays were set up around the globe.
As time passed, and research of the crash site continued, it became clear that not much of any use could be salvaged from what little remained of the alien crash site. Even evidence that the alien attack had occurred at all was spotty. Only a few grainy photos of the battle had been taken, and every alien corpse had been atomized in the blast.
As the years went by, and the Xenonauts' supporters in both powerblocks died or retired and were replaced by people unaware of the Top Secret event, the leadership of both sides withdrew their support as geopolitical considerations made them suspicious of the joint organization. Eventually, funding dried up so much that it was a struggle just to keep the lights on at the headquarters.
Despite it all, the Xenonauts still clung to life, determined that humanity's greatest asset against the alien threat not be extinguished.
-ooOOoo-
I've been chipping away at this idea for a while now, and I decided that I would begin to post it on this site. There was some hesitation on my part due to the lack of any sort of Xenonauts content with which to list this story as the crossover it is. I ultimately decided that enough people were following me on this site (and only this site) to warrant posting it here as well. To fans of my other story, fear not, this story has not and will not supplant "Isolation" in terms of priority for updates, and I still fully intend to finish every story I am currently writing.
As always, thank you very much for reading and please share your thoughts in the comments.