Quartermaster Denisa Kvasnicka clamped down hard on the flash of annoyance that went through her as she looked over the personnel files on her desk. They belonged to individuals who had been denied access to the Xenonaut assault team training program. Normally, this wasn't anything that would peek her interest. Applicants failed out of the program all the time. However, these applicants hadn't failed out of the program, they'd been barred from trying out altogether.

There were three files. One was from a soldier in the Israeli Defense force, another was a US Navy Sailor from the Naval Construction Battalions, or "Seabees", and the third was a soldier in the Soviet Army. While all had combat training, none of them had combat experience. Before the bombings, applicants without any combat experience wouldn't have even been considered, but most of the experienced soldiers had died with the bases they lived on. So, for now, having military training at all was considered enough to be allowed to apply.

Even if their lack of experience was considered a problem, there were other applicants with almost identical backgrounds who had been allowed to enter the program, even if their odds of success were low. So, if it wasn't their background, then it must be another trait they had that was keeping them out. One quick glance at the top of each of their files could tell you what that trait was.

They were all women.

Denisa stood on the threshold of Combat Chief Eric Wilson's office and knocked on the door frame. He looked up from his work and smiled pleasantly.

"Hello Quartermaster, please come in. What can I do for you?" he said.

Denisa returned the smile politely. "Chief Wilson. I had some questions about some applicants for the training program that were rejected."

She set the files on his desk. He briefly flipped through them and, eyes narrowing slightly, said "Alright. What did you want to know?"

"Why were they rejected?"

"Because they are women."

"That argument is irrational, even if the average woman is unlikely to be able to meet the physical requirements, it's foolish to not at least allow them to try-"

She cut off in the middle of her thought as she realized he had not said what she was expecting. What she was expecting was the same tired and poorly veiled patronizing arguments about physiology and supposed psychology that made women unsuited for the job in the minds of men like him. She hadn't expected him to just...

Eric smirked. "Weren't expecting me to just come out and say it, I take it? Perhaps I should try growing a moustache again, so I can twirl it and thus better fit whatever image of me you've concocted in your head."

He leaned forward and smiled, not unkindly. "I'm willing to come out and say it because I'm not ashamed of my reasons."

Denisa stiffened and narrowed her eyes. "Very well, let's hear them."

He sat back. "I could make the obvious arguments about physical capabilities and the like, but with modern technology that's becoming less and less relevant. Even if it weren't, the reality is that there will always be exceptions. I have no doubt that there are and always will be some women out there who can not only succeed in this job, but excel."

Denisa was more than a little baffled. "Then why...?"

He stood up, looking out the window to the training room, watching his men. He itched idly at the stump that remained of the arm he had given up in the fight for humanity's survival, in a battle that had happened before some of the young men out in that room had been born.

"War is older than recorded history. Maybe even older than fire. In all that time, it has always been men who are expected to fight it. There have been exceptions, of course, but for the most part it's deeply ingrained in even the most egalitarian and progressive of cultures. It's only in the last century that our societies, on the whole, have begun to open up to the idea of women serving as soldiers in an official capacity."

He looked at her. "But it's still too early. Our culture and traditions haven't adapted yet. The simple answer is that we don't know how to incorporate women into units like this. It just hasn't been done before, or at least, not like this. Sure, partisan groups and militias and the like have done it before, but that's a different environment, different stakes."

He turned back to look out the window and sighed. "Those men out there, they're good lads. But they're only human. They're subject to the biases and norms of their culture, like everyone else. Those biases are unfair. We can work through them...fuck, we should work through them, someday. But not now."

He turned to her again, stepping closer. "I have no doubt that, if humanity survives, their daughters or maybe granddaughters will proudly serve alongside their sons and grandsons under arms. But here, and now, I just can't justify disrupting unit cohesion and cooperation by starting a bloody social experiment. And like it or not, that's what this will be. An experiment. It's not right, it's not fair, but we don't choose the history and culture we inherit."

Denisa wore a tight expression. "It's...it's just wrong. You know it's wrong."

"Yes, it is. But I'm in charge of getting our troops ready for combat, and I have to do what I believe is most likely to set them up for success. It's not fair, it's unethical, but it's necessary."

Denisa snatched up the papers and left the room.

Eric sighed. He took one last look out at the young men in the training room, and then he went back to work.

Denisa was angry. Not at the world she lived in, not even at Eric. She was angry at herself. Because Eric was making sense, at least to her mind. She still disagreed, though she couldn't quite find a concrete reason as to why, yet. Maybe she just disagreed because she very much wanted him to be wrong. The fact that she was even considering his words was why she was angry at herself.

In truth, she had been somewhat ambushed by Eric's words. She was a woman who had pursued a career in the military. A career in the military in a Warsaw Pact nation, who made NATO countries militaries look like bastions of gender inclusivity by comparison, despite that very obviously not being the case. Put more briefly, she had a depressingly wide experience of discrimination against women in the military. And in every case she'd ever encountered, she'd never once had someone make an actual, rational argument, albeit one she disagreed with. Sure, some might wrap up their prejudices in the veneer of reason, but at their rotten core they were always born of bad faith.

The fact that it was Eric was one of the things that made it different. She just couldn't bring herself to believe that he had that same malice and prejudice at the root of his argument. She respected him. Liked him, even. He was professional, but pleasant. He had always been respectful, he'd never once made her feel like she had some particular need to "prove her worth". To prove that she had the right to be in her position, rather than a man (a feeling she was all too familiar with from her past experience). And yet, here he was, advocating for policies she found morally repugnant, but in the same respectful, good faith way he did everything else. It was...unpleasant, to have one's beliefs tested like that.

Denisa rubbed at her eyes, leaning on her desk. She then abruptly got up and went to see the Commander. She had to try, even if she knew it wasn't going to work.

Commander Jack Miller was somewhat surprised when his secretary informed him that his visitor was Denisa. Anything she needed to bring up to him, she almost always did in her weekly logistics reports, or the department heads meeting. It was a rare thing for her to seek him out personally.

"Send her in, Janice." He said into the intercom.

Denisa entered, looking...off.

"Commander. Thank you for meeting with me."

He smiled. "Thanks are unnecessary. What can I do for you?"

"I have some concerns about our recruitment policies, which I was hoping to speak with you about."

Jack raised an eyebrow. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that.

"Alright, let's hear it."

"It has come to my attention that some applicants have not been allowed to attempt the training program, despite meeting all qualifications. Female applicants, to be specific."

Jack's other eyebrow went up and joined its sibling. "I see. Have you spoken with Eric about it?"

"Yes."

"Did he have an explanation?"

"...yes."

"I take it that the explanation was unsatisfactory, then?"

She frowned. "I don't think there can be a 'satisfactory' explanation for discrimination."

Now it was Jack's turn to frown. "That's a strong word to throw at a man that I believe both you and I respect."

"Nevertheless, it is accurate. It's not discrimination that's born of malice or prejudice against women, or at least I don't believe it is, but it's still discrimination."

" 'Not born of malice or prejudice'...then I fail to see the problem."

Denisa didn't try to hide her shock. "Sir...?"

"Quartermaster Kvasnicka, the Xenonauts is an organization that contains communists, capitalists, and God knows what else under the same roof, and manages to not have them kill each other. Why do you think that is?"

"I-...I fail to see the rel-"

"It's because our organization is not a political or ideological organization. Our only ideology is pragmatism, and we have only one political objective: The continued survival of the human species. An objective every sane human being, regardless of politics, can agree with. It is our first and only concern. If you have moral or political objections, then you should've left them at the door. If Chief Wilson is not acting with 'malice or prejudice', as you stated, then that means he has taken this action because he believes it facilitates the fulfillment of our mission in some way. As far as I'm concerned, that's all that matters. If you believe otherwise, then make your case for why it doesn't. Otherwise, I'm going to continue to let my subordinate oversee the department I have entrusted him with as he sees fit. I would say the same thing if it was Eric in my office and your policies he had a problem with."

Denisa was stunned. She managed to recover after an awkward silence. "Sir...I'm willing to make the case for why it needs to change."

He nodded, keying the intercom. "Very well. Janice, tell Chief Wilson to come to my office if he's available."

Denisa looked at him, a question on her face.

He shrugged. "I'll need to hear his reasoning as well if I'm to make a decision."

"It's not that, I was just...hoping I'd have some time to prepare."

He riased an eyebrow again. "I'm not an English teacher, Denisa. I'm not looking for a persuasive essay. I'm going to hear what you both have to say and then I'm going to make a decision. Then, all three of us are going to get back to work."

Denisa wracked her brain, trying to piece together an argument from the swirling mass of thoughts and feelings the whole situation had inspired.

Why do I think it needs to change? Because it's wrong. Why is it wrong? Because it's immoral. Why is it immoral? Because it restricts people based on inherent traits that they have no say in. Why is that a bad thing? Because it's bad for society.

Then the real question, the difficult question, came.

What does that have to do with achieving the mission?

She didn't have a coherent answer to that, not yet.

Eric entered the room, looking at Denisa sadly when he noticed her. "Went over my head, I take it?"

The Commander went to her defense, surprisingly enough. "She brought a concern about one of our organization's policies to her superior, exactly what she was supposed to do. Is there going to be a problem?"

He shook his head. "No, I understand why she did it. What do you need from me?"

"Your side of the discussion. Why are you dismissing female applicants out of hand?"

Eric looked at his feet for a moment and sighed. "I'm not exactly thrilled to be the one making this argument, I hope you both know that. I'll give you the short version: Introducing women into the social dynamic of our combat teams has the potential to create social friction, which would play hell on cohesion and morale. Ethically speaking, it's wrong, and I believe it's something that will need to change, but that change will be disruptive. Disruption is not something we can afford in the middle of a war for our very existence."

Denisa tried her best to find the words. "We are in a war for our existence. Which is precisely why we cannot dismiss valuable human resources. Women make up half of the human population. Reducing our potential pool of talent by 50% based on things that might happen is detrimental to our success. Every other department has recognized this, and recruits talented women as they present themselves. Why, then, should the combat teams be any different?"

She was finding her stride now, and was more than a little surprised at herself. "This hasn't come up before because we have always recruited from the best and most experienced soldiers available to us, and, well...those were all men. That was the world we lived in. However, even then, most of those men didn't make the cut, because there are qualities that make a Xenonaut that go beyond talent and combat experience."

She looked pointedly at Eric. Those were his own words she was using, from a conversation they'd had some time ago.

"The bombs changed our recruitment pool, but they didn't change the qualities we are looking for. How many women are out there who can make the cut physically, and also possess the qualities and attitudes we are looking for? Fewer than there are men, even I'm willing to admit that. Biology is a cruel mistress. Still, if there's even one excellent Xenonaut out there who is also a woman, it will be worth the trouble. The kind of people who can go into battle against these...nightmares...don't grow on trees. It is in our best interest to cast as wide a net as possible."

She stopped speaking, and looked at the Commander expectantly.

Jack smirked, and looked at Eric. "Well, that's convincing enough. Got anything in the way of a reply, Chief?"

Eric sighed. "I've made my case. If it doesn't match up to hers in your eye, there's not much more I can do about it. Truth be told, being the bad guy is exhausting. If you're in her camp, I'm happy to put it behind me, despite my continued misgivings."

"Alright then. I am in 'her camp', so I expect to see any future female applicants being given a fair shake."

Eric nodded. He looked at Denisa. "If any women make the cut, I hope you both know me well enough to be assured I will still do everything in my power to prepare them to fight our enemies - as I would any trainee- , and this discussion we've had will have no bearing whatsoever on the way I treat them."

Jack smiled. "I do know you, and I am assured."

Denisa managed to smile as well. "Yes. Me too."

Jack nodded in satisfaction. "Wonderful. Now, get back to work. Both of you."

Hey there. If this gave you a bit of tonal whiplash, allow me to explain the nucleus of the idea for this chapter:

For those of you who haven't played the game, Xenonauts generates both male and female characters to serve in your squad. This is understandable, as XCOM - it's primary inspiration- does this as well. However, something interesting that the game does is generate a "background" for every character as well, which includes their nationality and military service record. All of the characters are special forces operators of some sort (as this chapter implies). All of the female Xenonauts are apparently real go-getters, as they somehow managed to obtain an extensive service record in the special forces. In the 1970s. When (in almost every military) women weren't allowed to serve in combat at all, never mind in the special forces. Impressive.

This was just a very minor worldbuilding quirk that I always found somewhat amusing, but when I went to write this story, I had to decide if I was just going to not address it at all the way the game does, or if I was going to attempt to provide an explanation. The bombing aspect of the story gave me an idea for the explanation, and I thought that it could make for a potentially interesting character and world building opportunity. I've had this idea in my back pocket for a little while now, and my more eagle-eyed readers might have noticed that all of the Xenonauts (the ones who fight on the ground, anyway) have been heavily implied to be exclusively men. This was on purpose. I didn't know when I was going to address this idea, but I knew it was coming.

Before I go on, I really want to emphasize that I'm just trying to write a story that will be interesting to read. This isn't a political manifesto or social commentary, it's just me using a minor quirk from the game that inspired this story to write a (hopefully) entertaining and interesting little side story of a chapter.

Anyways, I tried to write it in such a way that it felt like thinking people having an argument rather than my Mary Sue of the week beating up a sexism strawman. Whether or not I succeeded is up for debate.

I realize that this is kind of an odd thing to write about in a story about aliens invading the Earth, but this interesting little quirk from the game has always stuck with me, and I got bit by the inspiration bug especially hard for some reason, so here we are. More "normal" chapters will follow after this.

As always, thank you for reading.