XCOM: The Advent Directive

by Xabiar

Australia has been annexed, the United Nations is in chaos, the world is under siege and the Ethereals have taken the field. Facing the full might of the Ethereal Collective, the Commander must rally XCOM, the newly formed ADVENT, and several other allies and rivals to unite the divided nations by any means necessary, for failure now will mean the fall of humanity once and for all.

15. Demands of Necessity

Demands of Necessity

---

The Praesidium, Situation Room

There was very little good news in the wake of the battles.

Patricia had returned to the Praesidium with her squad mostly intact, in addition to a UFO Transport and Gateway. That, and they managed to kill one of the little surprises the Battlemaster had left, which had apparently almost killed the entire squad. Even with the ease of which Patricia had disposed of the majority of the alien forces, the victory felt hollow since it had, in retrospect, not been anything more than a diversion.

Seattle was essentially lost, even though they had extracted a heavy toll from the alien forces, but destroyed most of the city in the process. The casualty list was massive, including several veteran XCOM soldiers, and it would have been far higher if he hadn't insisted Saudia have the military prepare contingency plans in case of being overrun.

And that was the problem. No matter how skilled they were, no matter how intricate and detailed their plans were, none of that mattered when they could eventually just be overrun with sheer numbers. It was a stark reality he had…not ignored, not entirely, but certainly pushed to the back of his mind; reduced its importance; pretty much whatever to ignore the fact that no matter what, they would probably die from nothing more than being outnumbered.

Psionics did somewhat even the playing field, but not when there were clearly ways to counter it, and the enemy had psions of their own.

Aegis had given him the numbers before, and it put into perspective the…futility…of this war, even if everything somehow went right. Every single individual species' army outnumbered the combined military might of every single human military, even with the increased numbers from recruitment. The Muton species alone was half the size of the Human race, and Aegis hadn't clarified if that was for the entire species, or only combat-ready soldiers.

Humans were too easy to kill.

It was just that simple.

It wasn't that the other species were innately superior to Humans. The battles had shown that. With the exception of the Ethereals, each species had shown that they could, in general, be overcome by Human weapons and tactics. Some easier than others, but it wasn't hopeless. The issue was that there were just more of them than Humanity could ever hope to match in a reasonable amount of time.

Portland had, amazingly, been held, but it was another hollow victory because while ADVENT had managed to hold off the Muton army, they hadn't been able to exact nearly enough enemy casualties to make a noticeable impact, and once whatever alien commander had realized that the best he could do was overrun with superior numbers, he had instead sabotaged the city outside the zones of control ADVENT held.

Electricity, water; all of that had been severed or sabotaged and immediately afterwards the alien army had retreated, content to force them to leave of their own volition, while keeping heavy watch on any efforts of ADVENT to repair it. Supply lines were being attacked, and planes shot down. The position was untenable, that much was clear, and it would only be a matter of time before ADVENT had to abandon it.

Vegas was little more than shiny rubble now, as the Battlemaster had made good on his promise to destroy the city. ADVENT had helped to an extent, strategically collapsing buildings onto hordes of aliens, similar to Seattle. The majority of the defenders were dead, and only around twenty thousand had managed to retreat safely.

They had admittedly killed at least three times their number of aliens, which would have been an acceptable loss had numbers actually meant anything to them. It didn't matter how many Mutons, Vitakara, or Andromedons died, they were all ultimately replaceable and for every one that was killed, all it did was delay the inevitable a little longer.

Then there was the Battlemaster himself, and he was one of the only ones whose death would actually have an impact. The problem was that the very idea of managing to kill the Battlemaster seemed laughable. True, the Templars had only had mere weeks of training, yet the Battlemaster had disabled them with ease, going so far as to fight them while blinded.

Debriefing Iosif and Carmelita had been unpleasant from what they'd described to him. It had looked that way from the footage of the battle, but both Iosif and Carmelita were convinced that if the Battlemaster had really wanted to, he could have killed them within minutes. The only reason he seemed to keep them alive for so long was because he appeared to want practice.

Practice.

The Commander stared at the footage playing in front of him on the holotable. The same footage of the Battlemaster played over and over, from every perspective he could find. What was he hoping to find here? Weaknesses, tactics, anything that gave a sliver of hope that he could be beaten. And he could be, the Commander was certain of that. Everything had a weakness, some kind of vulnerability.

So he believed, but the more he learned, the more he was wondering if the Battlemaster was the rare exception to the rule. Aegis had given details on the Battlemaster a while ago and had noted much the same thing.

His armor was nigh-impenetrable, and Aegis suspected that only the same type of metal might be able to be strong enough to penetrate it, or defend against his sword. The only glimmer of optimism he could glean from this was that Shen's swords, set to the high-friction setting, seemed to actually do more than just glance off the armor, but actually cut it in a minuscule way.

The Battlemaster had seemed to think the same thing, judging by how quickly he took Karen's swords out of the picture.

So one possible weakness. Two if he counted offensive psionic powers. Chan might actually be able to cause of damage. Annette as well, had she still been alive. But that highlighted another problem: The Battlemaster didn't tolerate threats. The instant it seemed like his life was in danger he stopped playing and removed the threat.

Karen's swords had caused damage. Literally seconds later he had them telekinetically thrown far away. If a soldier posed something more than being irritating, he would just kill them outright. The Commander didn't know if Karen had been a victim of this, or she was just unlucky and the first one the Battlemaster had chosen to kill. But he was certain that if a psion like Chan was in play, the Battlemaster wouldn't waste time toying with him, he would simply kill him within seconds.

The Commander had to admire his intelligence, even if he despised him at the same time.

So what was the solution? More Templars? New weapons? Try to overwhelm him with psions? Get Aegis to actually do something? Or was it time to take more drastic measures?

Problem: Humans were too easy to kill.

Problem: Aliens outnumbered Humans by an unfathomable amount.

Problem: The Battlemaster was almost impossible to stop, let alone kill.

Problem: There were other Ethereals actually worse than the Battlemaster.

Problem: Humans were still divided.

Problem: Every single one of those problems is too major to ignore.

And the issue was that none of them could be solved quickly or easily without taking drastic action. Traditional ethics was not something he held himself to, but he had standards and didn't begrudge people for following them. He knew there would be some who viewed what Vahlen and her team were doing to the Human body as strange and unnatural, and wouldn't want that anywhere near themselves.

He'd planned to let genetic modification be a choice each soldier made, like the MEC pilots. Now he was wondering if he could afford to do even that. Every soldier lost now was too major to ignore. Could he honestly say that approach was truly worth preserving? Did he even have a choice now that there was a very real possibility that they would lose if these steps weren't taken?

There was a problem with his priorities. Even now he was still too idealistic. He was looking forward to the future too much, working with a failed fantasy where personal choice was an actual and legitimate option. Manchurian Project be damned, the last thing he needed now was Vahlen wasting time trying to keep Humans under control out of some apocalyptic fear that they could take over the world. That was a problem for after the war, that was a concern that should only be realized when the fighting was done and they had to pick up the pieces.

What was he actually concerned about? Defection? Betrayal?

He laughed to himself.

If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that every member of XCOM would rather die before letting the aliens win. No, betrayal had never been a reason, but his attempt to keep the most powerful people in the world from abusing their abilities on other humans. He was tackling a problem that had yet to manifest just because…why?

Was it to prove that, somewhere, he was not as bad as he knew he was? That he still respected human choice, and wanted for at least one of his achievements to be objectively seen with approval? This, from someone who cared nothing for superfluous praise and validation?

He scowled, hands gripping the holotable tightly as the footage played over and over in front of him.

He wasn't a good person, so why should he pretend otherwise? Logic and pragmatism were far superior, and that was why he had gotten this far; that was why he was still alive. He saw lines and he crossed them if there was no other choice, so this should be no different. There were still so many problems in the world that he had refrained from interfering in out of the sake of being apolitical.

Apolitical.

Sure, that was what he wanted XCOM to be in the future. Work with ADVENT, not work for or control them. Don't interfere in their matters. He'd given Saudia all the tools needed to create, if not a perfect society, one that was free of most of the failures of the past. And to her credit, Saudia was rising to the challenge, because she too understood what was really at stake.

He wasn't blind to the fact that normally, after such a defeat, there should be people in the streets. There should be some kind of outcry.

There wasn't. Probably due to her wisely keeping it quiet.

Apolitical.

Was that even a word in this time? Every decision had ramifications across the world now. For every country that did not join ADVENT, ADVENT was that much weaker. For every pointless Human war that persisted was one taking precious resources away from the alien invasion. All he needed to do was send Patricia over to China or that idiot in Canada and force them to join for the preservation of the Human race.

One XCOM squad could decapitate any minor threat the countries in the Middle East might pose. The time for surrender had long passed, as far as he could tell. The governments deserved nothing after seeing they stood no chance, and yet, persisting anyway. XCOM had collapsed governments before, but only as it related to the alien threat.

But that was a petty argument, since everything now affected the war against the aliens.

He closed his eyes and took a breath.

He was stressed, tired and likely not thinking clearly.

But major decisions needed to be made.

"You can't sleep?" He glanced up, partially surprised that Vahlen had managed to get this close without him noticing her. She looked like she had been sleeping, as she was out of her laboratory attire and was wearing more casual clothing for sleeping. He noted absently that her hair was also down and she hadn't bothered putting on shoes before coming.

Probably waiting for him, he supposed, feeling somewhat guilty to keep her waiting without letting her know- "No," she suddenly interrupted, raising a hand and walking around. "Don't you even begin feeling that way. I should have guessed you'd be somewhere here."

He shrugged, looking back down to the holotable. "For what good it does."

"And is it working?" She asked, gently taking his chin between her fingers and turning it towards her. "How many times have you watched that? Ten? Twenty?'

He closed his eyes, sighing. "I have no idea."

She reached over to grab his hands and he let her turn his body towards her. "And what exactly have you managed to find from that that we didn't find at the meeting?"

He rested his forehead against hers. "That we're all dead unless we make some big changes."

"You know you shouldn't do this all on your own," she chastised, looking at him with concern both in her eyes and emanating out of her. "Ignoring pointless romantic comparisons, you're going to make mistakes in judgement if you sneak up here in the middle of the night and dwell on how bad the situation seems."

He let go of her left hand and used it to rub his eyes. "I'd kept all of you up far past what was needed. People need sleep, I can't right now. No point in wasting time I say. I'm not-"

"You're not well, mentally or otherwise," Vahlen interrupted, more harshness in her voice than he was expecting. "I can feel how much stress and exhaustion you are under from the other end of the Praesidium. You're probably making it impossible for any reasonably powerful telepath to sleep tonight. You need someone to share it with," her voice softened. "So here I am."

He simply pulled her into a hug.

They stood there for a while, both of them relaxing against each other, reminding themselves that they weren't completely alone in the struggles facing both of them.

"Thank you," he told her, knowing she could feel how much those words conveyed.

"Anytime you need it," she answered softly against his chest. "That's what we do for each other."

"That it is," he answered, just as softly. "Although I still don't think I'm going to be able to sleep anytime soon. Unless you make me."

"No, I've got a better idea," she said, gently disengaging from him. "I saw what was in your head while walking up here. Difficult to ignore and you needed someone who sees how you think to really help." She walked around to the opposite side of the holotable, brushed a few unruly strands of hair behind her ear and looked him directly in the eyes.

"We're both not going to get to sleep, I think," she continued, shutting off the footage of the Battlemaster. "So we're going to start going through those thoughts and plans in your head. We're going to think them through logically and clearly, which you were definitely not. And we'll do that until Zhang, Jackson, or Patricia decide to check up on us."

He had to smile at that. "I think that is an excellent idea. Since I was, ah, not 'thinking clearly', perhaps you should decide what we go over first."

"Fine," she said with a look of intense concentration on her face, already typing on a tablet she had picked up. "Your first identified problem: Humans are too easy to kill."

---

Switzerland, ADVENT Command

Saudia sat alone at her desk, no one nearby to disturb her as she dwelled alone on the ramifications of the past few days. She was thankful that the Commander had the foresight to include certain provisions in the Directive, and that she and Elizabeth had worked for this contingency well in advance.

Unfortunately, it was a so-called victory that she didn't want to have. In fact, it only made things more difficult for her.

Morale was dropping fast in the wake of the losses, and she couldn't entirely blame everyone.

They were losing. Badly.

There was no way around that fact, and the worst part was that no easy answers presented themselves to her. Or plausible ones of any kind. No, if things stayed as they were, the aliens would win within one year, probably sooner.

She personally wasn't as affected as everyone else, and was keeping her mind on the big picture. The war wasn't lost. Not by a long shot. So, there were some facts she was keeping at the forefront of her mind:

One: The aliens only controlled a relatively limited section of the world. They had the major cities in Australia, a town in Japan, and some major cities on the American West Coast. All in all, not that many. Granted the losses were no good for morale, but they still held the advantage when it came to land mass.

Two: ADVENT could beat the aliens. They'd done it before, both with and without XCOM help. They just needed to be smarter and wiser than the aliens for it to happen, which was a somewhat difficult task since the Battlemaster was proving to be too competent for his own good. It was irritating, since she couldn't help but respect him in a way.

The main problem that she had highlighted was that in the end, it would come down to a numbers game. Humanity could probably kill several billion aliens and they would still have some to throw at them. No, they couldn't win this conventionally. They were playing within rules imposed in their minds.

Rules that were simply one species against another, winner take all.

Wasn't fair and didn't work. So a new strategy needed to be developed. The rules needed to be changed or they simply needed to cheat.

The question was how they should cheat. What would be the best answer to what the aliens were doing here?

That was something she knew she couldn't figure out on her own. Luckily she had an excellent and competent team of advisors overseeing the various departments and agencies. No, she didn't believe the war was lost yet. The Battlemaster was a problem, but only because he was smart. She'd surprisingly noted that the Battlemaster seemed to have gotten into the Commander's head, which she knew had to have been his intention.

The Commander was a man who rarely, if ever, lost. But when he did, it fucked with his head severely. He would second guess himself, become predictable, and try things as safely as possible. The trick with the so-called Templars had been novel, but Saudia had known the best they were going to do was slow the Battlemaster down.

Slowing him down was a pointless goal. He had to be killed. That was what they should be working towards. No surviving, or slowing him down, but purely killing him. But the Commander was almost preparing for defeat, he was acting almost hopeless and scared of the Battlemaster. That was, admittedly, completely justified, but it didn't solve the problem.

Saudia drummed her fingers against the table, her chin resting on a propped up fist. To her it seemed simple: Kill the Battlemaster and they could win the war. Most of the aliens were inferior to Humans, especially Vitakarians and Mutons. Take away their leaders and they were worse. They weren't winning on skill, but numbers.

The Andromedons were a problem, but they were fewer and they would have many more weaknesses than the Battlemaster. And the Sectoids…come to think of it, she didn't recall seeing them at all in the past few months. Though they were another inferior species, with laughably weak psions compared to Humans. With the exception of the Hive Commanders.

Of course, there was the likelihood of another Ethereal showing up if the Battlemaster was killed. But she had her doubts that he would somehow be worse than the Battlemaster, with the exception of this Imperator leading them. Still, even the weaker Ethereals were dangerous, and they had to deal with the problem at hand.

The Battlemaster was one Ethereal. One with a limited area of effect. Capturing cities was all well and good, but his reach was limited and he couldn't be everywhere at once. The fact that he was, right now, seemingly invincible didn't matter so much in that perspective. So that meant he needed to be kept off the front lines whenever possible.

ADVENT needed some kind of victory for PR if nothing else. There needed to be strikes against alien holds, or the razing of their armies. The Mutons might have been unfeeling brutes, but she suspected that even Andromedon and Vitakara morale could be damaged.

There had been enough toying around. The aliens were on Earth, and Earth belonged to the Humans.

It was time to remind them of that. Luckily she had several operations she could enact, ones that had been in the process for weeks, but now might need to be bumped up a few days. She needed to talk with the Commander as well. XCOM would probably be needed for some of these, and it was extremely possible that aliens would launch even more attacks soon.

The little bit of good news to come out of this entire debacle had been that the EU was finally coming around. France had begun making efforts to join after Paris was almost taken, and when they realized how unprepared they were for an actual alien army. And Hassan had told her that it would likely have a ripple effect.

Europe had now seen first-hand the strength of the aliens. She found it darkly amusing to have the knowledge that if the idiotic politicians in charge didn't start using their brains, there were definitely some in the militaries that would be concerned enough to take matters into their own hands. But she felt it wouldn't come to that. They would join ADVENT in the end and that was the end of story.

Canada was another issue that seemed almost petty in the scope of the threat. Prime Minister Jace might be idiotic enough to openly refuse to help, but she truthfully no longer cared about what he wanted. Necessity demanded that Canada cooperate, and she would ensure they would, one way or another.

But it would require some deftness not to make a martyr out of him, for the moronic pacifists that refused to accept that anything other than ADVENT would result in death. Then again, against her Peacekeepers and army she supposed it really didn't make much difference what they wanted.

All they had were weak, hollow words and threats. They threatened nothing but her ego.

She had armies.

And it was perhaps time to consider bringing this world to order much more forcefully than she'd wanted. The survival of the human race now depended on it.

---

The Praesidium, Medical Bay

Nuan groggily opened her eyes, then rapidly closed them to hide the white light shining from the ceiling. What happened? Was the first thought to come to her head as she slowly adjusted to consciousness.

The battle…the Battlemaster…they were losing…Karen died…Carmelita was an ineffective idiot…

My arms!

Her eyes snapped open as adrenaline flowed through her at the realization. The first thing she did was look down as best she could to where her arms were.

Or should be.

Because right now they were just stumps, the ends covered with some kind of soft device, probably medical. The left one had lost about half of the forearm and the right had been amputated right up to the elbow. They didn't hurt thankfully, but there was just…nothing.

Nuan swallowed as she unconsciously tried to move her fingers and arms, while also realizing that they weren't there anymore. It was so alien as to be difficult to grasp. It was difficult to believe this was actually happening and not part of some nightmare.

The only good news to her was that she appeared to have been rescued by XCOM. She doubted the aliens would have tried taking care of her, and the room she was in was distinctly alien based on the shimmering gray metal and subconscious throbbing in the back of her mind. So that meant at least some XCOM soldiers had survived.

She hoped Iosif had made it.

The multicolored shield that constituted her 'door' suddenly dissipated and a bald man in a medical uniform walked in, a tablet in his hand. She'd seem him before, he'd been one of the soldiers who apparently was also a Praesidium Medic. "Calm down, Nuan," he said slowly and deliberately as she jerked her head in his direction. "It's going to be alright."

"My arms are gone and that alien destroyed us like we were nothing!" She hissed. "How could it be alright?"

His forehead furrowed and lips parted slightly. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I don't speak Chinese."

Oh, right. She consciously made sure she was speaking English to answer him now, although the initial burst of fury had dissipated, leaving only exhaustion. "It doesn't look alright to me, doctor…"

"Harkin," he answered. "Blake Harkin. I'm sure you've seen me around. I double as the chief battlefield surgeon when I'm not on missions. And it's not as bad as it looks, trust me."

Nuan attempted to relax, trying to ignore the feeling of nothing where her hands should be. "The others…?"

"Iosif, Carmelita, Esinam, and Cassandra managed to get out," Harkin reassured her, consulting his tablet. "The Templars are the main reason you're still alive. They pulled you out after you were wounded and called for an extraction nearby. They got everyone alive out before the Battlemaster remembered to kill them."

Ok…that was some good news. "And the battle?"

Harkin grimaced. "No good news there. After XCOM evacuated the main ADVENT force received orders to retreat and enact contingency plans. They made the aliens pay dearly, but as it stands, the city of Las Vegas no longer exists."

Nuan didn't care at all about the city, it could eventually be rebuilt if the Americans really wanted it. But it seemed like such a waste of life now. What did they have that could possibly stop the Battlemaster? All fighting him seemed to accomplish was getting people killed, and had it not been for a liberal dose of luck, she would have been one of them.

"What about the other battles?" She suddenly recalled, also vaguely noting that he'd been on the Paris operation.

He scratched his chin as he hesitated answering, and she absentmindedly noted that the light shining down on him briefly highlighted the almost imperceptible hexagons on his skin. Gene-modded. Huh, she hadn't known that. "We succeeded in pushing the aliens out of Paris," he began slowly. "Although there were some complications. We did manage to recover one of their transports and a Gateway. Lost Iida, but we were lucky all things considered. Seattle though…the aliens control what's left of it. XCOM was overwhelmed and was forced to retreat, and ADVENT didn't have the numbers to hold."

She supposed it was good Paris was safe. They'd probably join ADVENT now because of it. "Wasn't there another city?" She remembered. "Botelan?"

"Portland," he corrected automatically. "News is…mixed. ADVENT did manage to hold it, but we don't know how long they can stay. The aliens, instead of striking the city proper, hit the utilities leading to it. Water, power, electricity, supplies. ADVENT doesn't know how long they can hold the city without it becoming unfeasible. And the aliens didn't take many casualties, although thankfully ADVENT didn't either."

"And everything is 'alright'." She repeated dully. "You Americans are optimistic."

"Well, you're clearly feeling better," he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I was more referring to your injuries than the current state of the war. I assume the Commander will be making some changes to our strategies in the coming days. Hopefully that Ethereal actually decides to help instead of sitting around doing nothing."

Nuan glanced down at the stumps of her arms. "So what will you do?"

Harkin set down his tablet and fixed her with a stare that didn't exactly instill confidence. "We can do a lot with MELD," he began. "But we can't regrow limbs. Haven't really tried, truth be told, but that isn't an option for you sadly. Which means you'll be fitted with prosthetics if you want that. They're functionally identical to the real thing and will actually be much stronger, if you want to look at the positives."

She raised an eyebrow. "Considering my options, I'd rather have that than nothing. But…how similar is it to my- what my arms felt like? Is feeling there?"

Harkin's lips twitched. "I know it's not as sensitive as natural flesh, but like I said, it's functional. There are forms of pain receptors, although they will be received differently by your brain. From speaking with some of the recipients, you won't have the same…delicacy, I believe is the right word. You'll likely not be able to play the piano very well, but you'll be able to write as good as ever."

But she'd have hands…which was better than nothing. Still, she felt a wave of sadness wash over her as she realized that there would be some sensations she would never feel again. Although she knew she-

"[Damn!]" She abruptly swore to herself. She'd somehow forgotten that she couldn't-no-shouldn't make any decisions without authorization by her superiors. Why had that not been the first thing she'd thought of when waking up? She didn't even know if they wanted her in XCOM anymore, let alone if she should be taking their tech.

If you hadn't been so loyal and gotten enhanced like Iosif suggested, you might have arms no-

No. She quickly crushed that line of thought. She knew her place and followed her orders. Unless she got permission, she shouldn't make decisions like this without permission. And she certainly shouldn't blame them for her condition now.

"It's not that bad," Harkin said, misinterpreting her outburst. "The Commander has one, and he's described it as 'different' but it only takes some getting used to-"

"No! Not that," she interrupted, sounding irritatingly emotions. "I need to contact my superiors."

"Oh..." he said, nodding slowly. "Nuan, don't worry about that. They're appraised of your condition. They commended your bravery in fact. They also have authorized any prosthetics you need."

"Show me," she demanded. "I need official documents."

Harkin smiled. "Lucky that Zhang demanded all of what they said in writing. Something about Chinese loyalty conditioning."

She flushed as Harkin handed her his tablet. "Zhang can go straight to hell." The insinuation that she was a conditioned puppet was almost as insulting to her as a criminal being so highly placed here. As if Zhang actually knew anything about loyalty outside of money. She bet he was only here to avoid spending the rest of his life in jail.

Nuan glanced over the documents, and did confirm they were genuine. She felt a warm glow as she read the words commending her. Praise was rare, and she immediately relaxed when she realized that they actually did care about her. Good, good, she would have to write up a detailed report as soon as possible. They needed to know the extent of the threat about the Battlemaster.

"Thank you," she told Harkin, handing the tablet back. "When will I receive my prosthetics?"

"You're scheduled for tomorrow," he answered with a smile as he tucked the tablet under his arm. "You'll need an additional few days for recovery while you're prosthetics are calibrated. Then you'll need at least a week to get used to them, to retrain your brain to remember all the actions you knew; eating, holding a gun, lifting. You likely won't be able to develop finer motor control right away. I'd say you'll be out of any combat operations for at least two weeks, possibly three."

That was a remarkably quick recovery time, she knew, but at the same time it seemed like an eternity. But it was probably needed. "Then I guess the sooner the better." She paused, hesitating for some reason before speaking further. "Is Iosif fine?"

"Tired, but he's recovering," Harkin answered. "I don't know what he's been doing, honestly. I'm guessing the Commander's debriefing him, and I know he's spent a lot of time with Aegis. He did come by when you were out, and said he'd come visit sometime when you were awake. Might not be until after your surgery, although I'll update him you're up."

She winced knowing that he'd come to see her when she was so…disfigured. Maybe he didn't care as much, but she'd have preferred he had not seen her like that, it would be better if she was whole, if not exactly the same. "Tell him I'd like to see him after I get my prosthetics."

"Got it," he said with a firm nod. "Any other questions?"

Nuan shook her head as best she could on the pillow. "Not right now."

"Then I'll leave you to rest," Harkin said. "Your sacrifice has and will not be forgotten. The Commander wants you to know that, and that goes for all of us as well."

She wasn't sure how she felt about that. All she'd done was fight like everyone else, and she'd gotten hurt for it. That she'd done her job didn't make her feel more special than anyone else. Praise for something like that was strange…but she didn't dislike it. It made her feel valued if nothing else, not just another soldier here.

"Thank you," was all she said, closing her eyes.

At least she wouldn't have to wake up too many times with the phantom pain where her arms had been.

---

Lancer Operational Command, United States of America

Saudia quite liked how the former USSOCOM Headquarters had been converted into now what was the headquarters of the Lancer division. From her understanding, it had formerly been known as the MacDill Air Force base and United States Special Forces just happened to have had a section to themselves.

That was gone now, and reorganized into a purely worldwide training and operations center. The Lancers were drawn from the best special forces units in the world, or at least those who hadn't been recruited to XCOM. SEAL's, Rangers, KSK, Special Forces Brigades; all working together and learning from each other.

Lancer Operational Command had also since been completely locked down to any civilian presence. Only the highest ranked in the ADVENT Military were able to enter; even representatives and politicians didn't know the inner workings. Saudia had been sure to invest enough resources into making the Lancers the most effective and deadly special forces organization in the world, even aspiring to surpass XCOM, though that was unlikely.

Luckily the former Commander of the USSOCOM seemed to have a very good idea of how to effectively accomplish that goal. Helion Weekes was perhaps the most dangerous man she had promoted into a position of power. He didn't command soldiers, he was one through and through. He was even taller than she was, and visibly stronger as well, though not in his prime any more.

From his history she knew Weekes had been a Navy SEAL and been one of the best operatives. Once he couldn't perform up to standards he transitioned to a command position, and a few years later he'd been in charge of the entirety of the United States Special Forces. Thus he'd seemed the perfect candidate to head a global equivalent. It helped that he was intelligent in addition to being a tactical mastermind.

Since being promoted, Weekes had been working with the Science and Engineering Agencies to ensure his soldiers were receiving the best equipment, in addition to closely following all ongoing developments. He'd also developed cross-national training regimes to eventually standardize the Lancer Corps into a superior fighting force, removing training and tactics that were inferior and only elevating the best.

In addition to that, he'd ordered construction of multiple science labs with genetic modification as a priority. Given that he hadn't brought that up before, she was assuming that was going to be a topic of discussion in addition to the overall situation. That Dr. Tygan was also here indicated such, and of course Commander Christiaens was also present.

All of them stood around a holotable in the well-lit room, with the walls holding whiteboards and maps all marked with various markers and notes. This was clearly Weekes's center of command. He stood opposite her, while Laura and Tygan were on opposite sides as they waited for him to start.

"The situation is bad," he began, the deep baritone was often surprising to most for the first time in its intensity, which was unmitigated with age. "We know it, so I won't repeat it again. The fact is that we need a solid plan. Sitting back and waiting for them to attack us is only going to cause us to lose ground and wastes soldiers."

"I agree," Laura said with a sigh. "Japan was unexpected and gave us a false impression of what we were facing. The fact is that our soldiers are inferior to a significant portion of the alien forces. And, to put it bluntly, they are too easy to kill."

"The question then, is how we can solve that," Saudia finished, clasping her hands behind her back. "We have a limited number of soldiers when compared to the aliens, and we can't replenish them quickly. So we have to work on preserving the ones we have."

"That's only solving part of the problem," Weekes shook his head in disagreement. "We're acting too passive. We're letting them come to us and not striking them where it hurts."

"And where would you propose we strike?" Laura asked, raising an eyebrow. "If you haven't noticed, we're somewhat confined to one planet. It's impossible for us to strike anywhere that would hurt them."

"I will only buy that excuse when Earth is completely ours," Weekes shot back, crossing his arms. "The aliens do control parts of Earth, right? That's why we're here after all. And how exactly can we not reach those?

Saudia's lips curled up at that point. He wasn't entirely wrong. "I would say it is because the aliens are heavily fortified in the cities they control, Chief Weekes. But your point is correct. We cannot be passive forever. Should we rely on defenses to hold our ground, the Battlemaster will methodically destroy us."

"Our method of handling the Battlemaster is also flawed," Weekes added. "I think we can say for certain that throwing armies at him and expecting that to work is a bad idea. We need to start manipulating him; drawing him away from targets of interest, keeping him on edge. We need a deterrent."

"If I may pose a query," Tygan spoke for the first time, slightly inclining his head as he spoke. "Have we noticed him exhibit any caution to any of the current arsenal of the ADVENT Military?"

"He seemed eager to get out of a collapsing building in San Francisco," Laura shrugged. "But that doesn't mean much. Even he would probably suffocate trapped under tons of rubble."

"I watched the combat footage in Las Vegas," Weekes said thoughtfully. "Twice he seemed surprised, or at least reacted differently. When that XCOM soldier threw that grenade with flammable gas, he rushed out of the way. I also noted that he reacted very violently when that XCOM Templar attacked him with her swords. I did not see any visible damage, but it seemed to spook him rather quickly."

"The symbiote weapon also seemed to slow him down temporarily," Laura recalled with a nod towards her colleague. "Perhaps applied to a larger scale?"

"Mhmm, that is a feasible approach," Tygan nodded. "I can speak to Dr. Munju on some potential applications. XCOM has also graciously forwarded a large number of research documents on their MELD and genetic engineering programs, presumably to assist us in enhancing their own forces."

That more than anything made Saudia concerned. If XCOM was worried enough to share their own gathered information beyond essentials, it meant they didn't think they had the time, or resources, to wait for ADVENT to advance to a point where it would pose a major threat. "Generous of them."

"The Commander isn't an idiot," Weekes stated. "I know he's probably hating the fact that he had to send them. But he knows XCOM isn't enough to win. They're skilled, but it will be us who win this war. Which brings me to how we should use this gift XCOM has given us." He nodded to Tygan.

"Yes," Tygan cleared his throat. "Several of the genetic enhancements XCOM has applied to their soldiers have been included here, in particular, the Iron Skin and Biomuscular Regeneration are of interest, as well as some that modify vision and disease resistance. I have determined that we can apply these enhancements to our own soldiers, should we choose to."

"The other half of the problem," Weekes continued, a fierce grin on his face. "We die too easily. We're a physically weak species and that needs to change. Despite how it turned out, XCOM did have the right idea with their Templars. They keep the Battlemaster occupied. More than that, the aliens don't have much of an answer for them as their work in Paris proved."

"I assume you have a suggestion?" Laura said.

"First and most obvious, I want the entire Lancer Corps to undergo extensive genetic modification," Weekes began, raising a finger. "Second, both the Battlemaster and the Templars highlight a weakness in the alien army – Namely, that they have few counters for melee combat outside of the Berserkers and those Oyariah. We should exploit that."

"How?" Laura asked. "Giving all of our soldiers swords as well?"

"No," Saudia realized. "The Lancers."

"Exactly," Weekes finished with a smile. "Not the entire Corps, of course, perhaps a quarter. But we've seen both how well modified soldiers perform in combat from XCOM, and that the aliens will be devastated in close quarters. I've looked over the schematics for their weapons they sent over. We have an opportunity here. Chancellor, with respect, I don't think we have a choice."

"Yes, but I would caution being overzealous with our supply of MELD," Tygan interrupted slowly. "Modifying the entire Corps would be a significant investment, and without facilities to make more, we could risk 'putting our eggs in one basket' so to speak."

"But we know how to manufacture MELD," Laura pointed out. "So why aren't we doing it?"

"It is largely due to the amount of, and limited supply of specific locations and components," Tygan explained. "It also takes a respectable amount of time to manufacture in any large quantities-"

"Not good enough," Saudia interrupted, raising a hand. "We need more. France has joined us. The EU will likely follow. I will be discussing plans in regards to building factories devoted exclusively to the manufacturing of MELD." She looked at Weekes. "And you have my permission to proceed. Do what you think will suit us best. You have more experience than I in this. But do not waste our resources, do you understand?"

"Of course," he answered, inclining his head. "And I never would ask unless it would have a tangible benefit."

"Good," Saudia nodded. "And as for your point about being idle…that needs to change. I have requested that XCOM join us for a joint operation. I expect they will respond soon and we can prepare an organized operation of retaliation."

"Excellent," Weekes said. "It is past time we begin to collaborate with them. They aren't our rivals and whatever disagreements and tension between you and the Commander should stop. After all, we have larger problems to deal with."

Saudia couldn't entirely disagree, but then again, Weekes didn't know the full context of what he was referring to.

The Commander would work with her, but he would never trust her.

---

The Praesidium, Situation Room

"We need to make changes."

The Commander saw little reason to not be completely blunt. Everyone here was under no illusions. Aegis didn't need to be here unless he was actually on their side, and the Commander was thinking it best that until that happened, they needed to start planning to win without him. If Aegis really wanted to know what they were planning, he'd have to actually make himself useful in combat against the aliens. Tech wasn't going to cut it anymore.

"I think that's obvious, Commander," Jackson said with a nod. "I'm assuming you have some in mind?"

"I wouldn't have called this meeting if I didn't," the Commander said, nodding towards Vahlen at his side. "Vahlen has been helping me, but I need everyone's input on this before going forward."

Patricia crossed her arms. "I don't suppose you have an idea for the Battlemaster?"

"I have some ideas," the Commander answered. "The first thing I am doing is authorizing the Artemis Contingency against the Battlemaster. I know the risks, but he warrants them."

Shen pursed his lips. "I'll have some of my team begin working on weaponizing the MELD…but I do feel the need to warn you that this could ultimately backfire."

"I know," the Commander answered grimly. "But in terms of options, we don't have many. Weaponized MELD might be enough to actually kill him. The only other options are nukes, collapsing buildings and swords out of whatever metal his equipment is made out of."

"The MELD swords did seem to damage the armor," Zhang noted. "That's useful-"

"Except he threw them away the instant he noticed that," Patricia interrupted with a scowl. "He's not a fucking idiot. That's the problem. Even this MELD weapon is going to really have one chance to work and then he'll know we have it. And what do you think he's going to do when he sees a missile heading for him? Stand there and let it hit him."

"No," the Commander said, smiling for the first time. "But I do think there is a way we can play him a bit. Aegis told me that his UFO is equipped to detect nuclear activity. The moment he detects it, he bails out which does infer that a nuclear blast will kill him."

Shen's eyebrows furrowed. "That seems to be a large assumption. How exactly do you know he'll flee if he detects nuclear activity?"

"Based on what Aegis has told me and my own observations," the Commander answered. "The fact that the Battlemaster even has his personal ship equipped specifically to detect it means that at the very least it's a concern of his. Aegis has also stated on multiple occasions that the Battlemaster doesn't like taking risks, and an unknown or unexpected variable suddenly entering the equation would raise the risk significantly, and perhaps entice him to pull back and reassess."

"He definitely doesn't even tolerate things he knows can hurt him," Patricia noted, nodding. "Like I said before. The instant he realized the swords could hurt him, he removed them. Thing is, one or multiple nuclear weapons heading towards him might be something he can't personally handle. He doesn't seem the type to risk his life unless the odds are something he can handle."

"Then again," Jackson shrugged. "It could be that he has common sense. I wouldn't blame him at all if he got word of a nuclear missile incoming. I doubt even he could survive one, no matter what kind of bullshit magic armor he has."

"Shocking," Zhang said dryly.

"Sarcasm aside, it gives me an idea," the Commander continued. "We don't need to kill the Battlemaster to negate him. Just scare him away. Jackson…how feasible is it to fake nuclear signatures?"

Jackson's eyes widened and she actually smiled. "I'd have to check that, but I don't think it should be too hard. Vahlen might know more, actually."

"Why even fake a signature?" Zhang asked. "Why not use live weapons and just not use them? Or even place them in cities as a deterrent. Sure, the Battlemaster could risk us not blowing up our soldiers, but he knows who you are…and that you'd nuke a city just to kill him. Would he risk that?"

"That depends," Patricia mused. "He might call our bluff…the question is if we are prepared to blow up cities to kill him?"

"Of course we are," the Commander sighed. "If that's the only way to kill him. But I want to keep him guessing. If he always has the fear of nuclear weapons in the back of his mind, it might make him not directly participate until he comes up with a solution."

"What I'm concerned about is that he has to have prepared for something like this," Shen noted slowly. "Or do you think this might be his weakness?"

"The unknown? Possibly," the Commander shrugged. "However, if the Artemis Contingency fails, I'd much prefer him directing from the back than the front."

"It sounds good," Jackson nodded approvingly. "So what's next?"

"We need more psions," the Commander said. "The simple fact is that we're far outnumbered and outgunned. So we can't throw away people and treat everyone as disposable. The Templars performed as well as could be expected, and they'll only get better. I'm going to expand that program and have Vahlen awaken as many psions as possible."

Zhang narrowed his eyes. "The Manchurian Program-"

"Fuck the Manchurian Program," the Commander sighed wearily. "It's diverting our resources. I'm not worried about the potential of some psion going rogue. Not anymore. We need advantages, we need psions, we need everything we can get and wasting them on a safeguard that might not even be necessary is borderline moronic."

He paused. "I'm not ordering research be stopped, but we need to prioritize. And another truth is that mandating that ADVENT shouldn't have psions is self-defeating. I don't completely trust Saudia, but I trust her willingness not to betray us now. ADVENT can recruit more, probably weaker psions than our own, and even a weak psion could make the difference."

"That's…surprisingly reasonable of you," Shen commented, adjusting his glasses. "I didn't think you'd risk giving ADVENT such a powerful tool."

The Commander gave a humorless smirk at Shen. "I'm not going to be idiotic about it. When the Manchurian Program is complete, I will require that every ADVENT Psion undergo it, and we have access to their code words. Until then, I think a small bomb in their heads will ensure they don't do anything stupid."

"Not without flaws, but it should suffice for now," Zhang said with a single nod. "As much as I dislike Saudia, we do need more psions, and ADVENT is the best means of accomplishing the acquisition of mass quantities."

"We can have some of our own train them if needed," Patricia nodded. "Or maybe let ADVENT develop their own methods. Aegis will help me with the psions we have here, and Iosif and the other Templars can help others in the Program. When are you going to tell her?"

"We're going to tell her," the Commander said. "It's time we both meet and make plans together regarding the future of the war. A joint meeting of XCOM and ADVENT Command. Patricia, Zhang and Jackson, you'll come with me to meet them."

Vahlen stepped forward. "Before the Commander gives some details regarding what will be discussed, I also think we need to push the genetic modification for our soldiers. We can't have them dying from stray plasma bolts anymore. It might be necessary to make it mandatory."

"After this, I think you're going to get a lot of additional volunteers," Jackson noted. "But we have to watch our MELD stores. We have a lot, but even modifying half our force will drain them significantly."

"Which is why we're going to change that," the Commander said, looking towards Shen. "I want you to take Aegis' plans for the MELD manufacturing plant, and make twelve of them. Jackson will secure off-base locations if you need it, but I don't want to have to worry about MELD stores again."

"Ah, I'll begin work immediately," Shen promised, blinking rapidly. "Although we'll need some raw materials-"

"You'll have them," the Commander dismissed with a wave. "On a similar point, what are you doing with the Gateway and recovered alien tech from the Transport?"

"We've stripped the alloys from the craft, and are analyzing the intact alien computers," Shen explained. "Aegis said he was surprised that there was no CODEX system installed, which means this was one of the earliest iterations of the craft."

"Or the Battlemaster removed it in case we won," Patricia noted. "Everything sent on that mission he had to be able to lose."

"In any event," Shen continued slowly. "The intact Gateway is one of the only solid positives to come out of that battle. Schematics and theories are useful, but having an actual Gateway to observe will speed along our research significantly. The alien computers will also, I believe, allow us enough to finally reverse-engineer them completely."

"And finalize the Firestorm Project?" Vahlen asked.

"I should think so," Shen nodded. "Our largest hurdle was replicating the alien systems we've recovered from other UFOs. In theory we could simply use intact alien computers for Firestorms, but that ultimately means we'd always be limited by how many computers we had. It will also help us with every system in the Praesidium that runs on alien tech."

"Well done," the Commander agreed. "Now, the last major point. I'm going to suggest that ADVENT end this pointless war in the Middle East once and for all, and we're going to help."

Jackson frowned. "Isn't that in clear, ah, violation of us being apolitical?"

"Depends on how you look at it," the Commander shrugged, not bothering to hide his irritation with the whole situation. "On one hand, of course it is. But on the other, this is a drain on resources that ADVENT could be using to put towards the aliens. The Middle East is just sitting there not being useful, and it all comes down to the war having a detrimental impact on the actual war, and thus threatening humanity."

The Commander rested his hands on the holotable, and fixed each of them with one unblinking glare. "We can end this war. So why shouldn't we?"

No one disagreed.

Patricia finally spoke. "How then?"

The Commander straightened and his lips curled into a smile. "We cut off the heads."

---

Japan, Nakashibetsu

"[How is it daddy?]" Mari asked through the screen, her face taking up around half of it while Sandara stayed in the background, smiling to herself. "[What are you doing?]"

Ah, he'd missed them more than he realized. "[I'm keeping everyone safe from the aliens,]" he answered. "[I'm doing it with some really good people.]"

"[Did you shoot one?]" She asked.

"[Mari!]" Sandara chastised in the background.

Duri chuckled. "[Maybe, the fighting gets a little chaotic sometimes. But nothing for you to worry about. The aliens don't stand a chance against us.]"

He sincerely wished he didn't have to lie, but Mari didn't need to know the horrors of war quite yet.

"[Well, duh,]" Mari said, rolling her eyes in exaggeration. "[They're scared of you.]"

His chuckled was almost sad. "[I wish that were so.]"

"[Alright, the two of you off to bed,]" Sandara said, gently setting Nabi on the ground off her lap, and his younger daughter gave a final wave joined by Mari.

"[Good night daddy, talk to you soon.]"

Sandara hustled them off to bed and he waited until she eventually got back and let the facade drop. Damn, she looked like she was going to cry. "[Tell me the truth,]" she said quietly. "[How is it there, really?]"

He was silent for a few minutes. "[Here? Not that bad, in all honesty. We're heavily fortified and the aliens can't make a move without getting slaughtered. But…well, I assume you've been watching the news?]"

A nod.

He grimaced. "[I guess it depends if they hit here next or not. If they do…it's not safe for any of us. I don't know if we'll live or not. I'm not going to get myself killed by being stupid, but the aliens just seem to be better than us.]"

"[Can't you do something?]" She almost pleaded. "[You're on the front lines! Can't you be transferred somewhere safer?]"

He rubbed his forehead. "[I could, maybe. But this is where I'm best. My entire team has stayed alive so far, which is a small miracle in itself. All I would accomplish by asking to leave is condemning someone else to potentially die in my place. I don't want that.]"

"[I know, I know,]" Sandara sighed, wiping her eyes. "[But it's awful living here alone. The girls make it bearable, but I'm terrified that one day I'm going to have a soldier show up at my door and tell me you died 'heroically' or some equally meaningless story.]"

"[I'm sorry I can't be there with you,]" Duri said quietly. "[With all my heart I want nothing more than to be with you right now. But we both knew this would happen one day. I'd say we were luckier than most. If it were any other place I'd have no problem with you living on-base, but Japan right now is no place for you or the girls. I won't put you in danger willingly.]"

"[And I wouldn't put the girls in danger like that,]" Sandara gave a weak smile. "[You should see Mari. She's so proud of you, she'd been telling everyone at school about how amazing you and all the other soldiers are. She's made friends with a lot of girls going through the same thing. You would be proud of here.]"

He felt some tears pricking his eyes as his wife spoke. "[We raised her well.]"

"[And I need to be happy for her,]" Sandara said. "[She shouldn't grow up afraid. None of them should. I'm glad you didn't tell her what it's really like. Not yet. She isn't old enough yet.]"

Duri nodded. "[Hopefully the war will be over by the time she's old enough. I pray so anyway.]"

"[So do I,]" she nodded. "[Please be safe. I love you.]"

"[And I love you too,]" he answered back. "[I'm always thinking of you.]"

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then the screen went black. Duri just sat there in the chair for a few minutes numbly staring at the screen. He just wanted to see and hug them again, but the time to do that looked to be nowhere in sight. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed them until now, which he'd unconsciously buried in his work and friends.

"You alright?" Cara's voice asked from just outside the makeshift video-conference room.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing his eyes and standing. "It's just…well, I miss them."

She nodded, her blue eyes seeming brighter in the dim light. "No shit you do. Didn't realize you even had a family until recently."

"Not something I really feel the need to bring up," he shrugged. "But what about you? Have a husband? Boyfriend? Family?"

She snorted. "No. Dates usually end poorly for me; guys can be idiots sometimes. For the best I think. Military doesn't really fit that lifestyle." She eyed him sideways. "No offense."

"None taken," he said. "Times like this I realize why it's discouraged."

"And as for family?" She shrugged. "No biological parents, at least none that I know of. I grew up in an orphanage for a time, me and my brother got adopted by another family. They're in Florida thankfully. My brother is probably enlisting, like the patriotic fool he is."

Duri chuckled. "And you're just here out of the goodness of your heart."

"Sorry, but I prefer my siblings alive," Cara answered back, only sounding partially sarcastic. "He just thinks he's the next great thing, but he's not a soldier. I'm only here because I wanted to kill people."

Duri started. "Sorry?"

"I met a lot of bad people growing up," Cara said emotionlessly. "But I couldn't do anything about it. I'd hate to think what might have happened if I hadn't been adopted. But I never forgot and I made plans. It seemed simple at the time. Bad people didn't deserve to live and the military killed bad people. Seemed like an easy join."

She shrugged again, a bit more wearily. "I don't know if I had a death wish or not. I always requested the most dangerous places, the hottest zones so to speak. Anything for a chance for me to actually remove some evil from the world."

Duri was wondering where this was going. "And did you?"

"Remove evil? Nope," she answered nonchalantly. "But I killed a bunch of scared kids in the War on Terror. Brainwashed scared men who believed in some release from their miserable lives. Saw a lot of action in that war, killed a lot more people. Some of them bad, but it wasn't at all like I'd thought. It was the exact opposite of satisfying, revolting almost. You don't shoot a teen in the head and come out alright."

Her lips twitched. "Killing people fucks with your head, no matter who you are. There's a reason veterans wake up screaming in the night. There's stuff in their head that they did. I can handle it. But I don't want it. My brother isn't like me. He'd never be the same again in a war. And no, them being aliens doesn't make a difference. They bleed, they scream, they die. They clearly think, they have some kind of emotions. I'm not a patriot Duri, I'm only here so someone else doesn't have to be."

She waved absentmindedly. "Guess you didn't need to hear all that, but hey, you asked. Keep it to yourself alright, I don't talk about it with everyone." And with that she turned and walked off, leaving him alone.

He'd had no idea she'd had such a traumatic past. She'd certainly never shown it before.

Maybe that was the point. She put up a front for people, just like his wife did for their daughters.

"Don't worry," he told the air. "Your secret's safe with me."

---

Tehran, Iran

Roman stood together with the rest of the Shieldbearer Officers and ranking staff. The Colonel General apparently had something he wanted to update all the command staff on. He personally hoped that it was news about how the war was progressing in other parts of the Middle East. Iran had taken up several months, and there was still a decent amount of territory left.

All of them were in full combat armor, with the helmets off of course. If there was one thing Roman saw that was common with all of them, it was that they looked utterly exhausted. Not necessarily about the war, but that they were wasting their time. Sure, the Middle East probably had some value, but compared to what was happening in America, all of them were itching to actually fight something that was worth their time.

And the Middle East certainly was not.

But they did their jobs, like good soldiers.

Ivan Frolov stood in front of them, table before him which held nothing but a map, and a projector displayed it on the wall behind him as well. He was with two people Roman had never seen before, one of which was a fairly short and bald woman wearing the uniform of an ADVENT Officer, helmet removed of course. Interestingly enough her armor was a dull gray, not the traditional red he'd seen from the other officers. Her fair skin and softer features indicated that she wasn't local or likely Russian either. American probably.

The other person was a man wearing no armor, but a black uniform of sorts that held no badges or means of identification, but if Roman had to guess, he was ADVENT Intelligence. Possibly Kidon since his skin was a darker brown, and he had heard him speaking with a noticeable Israeli accent.

Roman didn't like him just based off his body language and false voice. Intelligence agents always made him uncomfortable, and the fact he felt the same way around this guy definitely made him think he was right in thinking this man was a spook.

"For the benefit of our guests, we will begin," Ivan said, speaking English presumably for the two beside him to understand. It was a good thing most of them knew English, though Roman could hear some in the back mumbling to each other, translating to their friends who didn't know. He presumed Ivan knew about it, which was why he paused after he began.

"This is Marshal Amy Kilian," he continued, nodding to the woman. "And Operator Moshe Emanuel, from the American and Israeli Divisions respectively. They've been spearheading the American and Israeli operations below Israel."

"And we personally thank you for your contributions to taking Iran," Moshe said, inclining his head in respect. "Israel Command personally thanks you for your sacrifice here, and we will never forget your help."

Well, it was the least they could do. Oddly enough Roman felt he was being sincere, and really, why wouldn't he? Not every day you had major world powers working to help you take revenge. Because that was ultimately what this was about. The Middle Eastern nations had done something stupid and killed people in their government. Israel retaliated, with extreme prejudice.

Not that Roman didn't like it, but thanking them seemed more like an obligation than anything.

"ADVENT wants this war ended," Ivan continued. "I've received that loud and clear from the top. Based on recent events, I think we can all agree with that. Last I heard they are still planning details about what exactly the strategy will be, but Chief Weekes, Commander Christiaens, and the Chancellor herself are involved in this personally."

That was actually significant news. The Commander and Lancer Chief in particular meant that ADVENT actually was not fucking around anymore. Which meant that this would be a massive operation when it actually happened. And if it was bad enough that they were getting involved, then it probably wasn't going to be particularly gentle either.

Good.

"As of right now we're unaware of the details of the plan," Marshal Kilian continued, clasping her hands behind her back. "But we suspect it will involve taking out the leadership of the remaining nations opposed to us. But before we can proceed, everyone needs to be updated as to the status of the war itself." She nodded to Moshe.

"Syria, Iraq, Jordan, and nearly half of Saudi Arabia are now under ADVENT control," he said, pointing to the respective countries on the map. "Israeli strike forces have severely destabilized Yemen and Oman, and the American Division is preparing teams at this moment to take their capitals. With that we'll have the capital of Saudi Arabia completely surrounded."

"How is the Royal Family reacting?" One of the Shieldbearers asked.

"As expected," Amy shrugged nonchalantly. "They've imposed martial law on the remaining cities they own and are pulling in every favor they can. They still have many foreign connections, especially in Russia and America and they've been leveraging them for money, resources and influence. Riyadh is a fortress that even we will be hard pressed to take."

Moshe smiled lazily. "However, ADVENT Intelligence has identified the contacts the Royal Family has been leveraging, and all of them are being prosecuted or sitting in jail cells now. They don't have anyone left, and no allies they can call on. They will not surrender."

Roman wasn't entirely unhappy with that. As satisfying as it would be to see the Saudi King humiliate himself by surrendering, it would be far more satisfying for him to be dragged out into the street. Better yet, shot in the head. Maybe the rest of the family too. As far as he knew, there was no one worthy of any consideration in the Royal Family.

If there was, they'd have done something by now. Or knowing how those animals thought, they would have been killed for daring to suggest something as heretical as 'surrender'.

"This leaves Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Afghanistan and Pakistan," Ivan said, pointing towards the respective countries. "We have already started offensives in Turkmenistan, and we've received word that India is willing to help take Pakistan when the time comes."

No surprise there. Roman knew that India and Pakistan hated each other, though didn't know why. Which raised an interesting question. "Is India part of ADVENT?" He asked.

"Not currently," Amy clarified. "However, I am under the impression that negotiations are taking place between the two parties. Their proximity to China is a matter of some concern, I believe. And it is entirely possible that they want to take control of Pakistan and I would not be surprised if ADVENT allows them to have it if they help, and respectively join."

The soldiers in the room nodded. If it got India into ADVENT, Pakistan was a small price to pay. That would boost the war effort drastically. They had one of the largest populations in the world, along with the industrial power and resources to match.

Ivan's face suddenly turned harder. "Pakistan in particular will need to be handled delicately, as they are a minor nuclear power in the region. The only ones aside from Israel to have that capability in the Middle East."

Roman frowned and everyone around him began murmuring to themselves. "I thought their program was dismantled in the War on Terror?" One soldier asked.

"Halted, not dismantled," Moshe corrected. "Or so we've been able to find out. Official records are…difficult to come by. Pakistan had been conducting nuclear research long before the Commander showed up, and with what the Indian Intelligence Bureau has been sharing with us, China likely helped them become a nuclear power, presumably to keep India in check."

Well, this was definitely a problem. It was one thing to invade Iran, Saudi Arabia, and the like because the threat they posed was minimal. Their armies were outdated and tactics ineffective. Roman actually figured that the Pakistani army would be largely the same way. But if they had nukes, and their country was in danger of falling, Roman doubted that ADVENT could properly stand against even a small nuclear arsenal, much less the fallout afterwards.

"What are we specifically dealing with here?" He asked. "Do we have numbers? Equipment?"

Moshe and Amy exchanged a look. "The Intelligence Bureau estimates Pakistan has between fifteen and thirty-five nuclear weapons," Moshe began. "We're also not entirely positive of the distribution between missiles and bombs, but we suspect they have more missiles than bombs. And they might have one nuclear submarine. Perhaps two. The warheads themselves are likely being stored at a minimum of five separate silos and hidden locations. Nuclear launch procedures are not currently known, and ADVENT Intelligence and the Intelligence Bureau are working to ascertain said procedures."

"Then what's the plan of action?" Another Shieldbearer asked, her features scrunched in worry. "We go marching in, they shoot nukes. It's not like they'll have anything to lose. Sure, they all die, but they go out in a blaze of glory so to speak."

"Like I said, it is being handled delicately," Ivan placated. "I have been assured that ADVENT will not move forward until there is a plan in place to deal with the nuclear problem. But I am aware that the Lancers will take part, as well as top agents from XCOM Intelligence. And if negotiations continue well, the best of the Indian Para Special Forces."

That ADVENT seemed to have a plan regarding this, or at minimum a healthy understanding of what they were dealing with was reassuring. A shame XCOM wasn't getting involved, since they could probably make all of this simple by sending in one of those psions. What little he'd heard about them was…unsettling…to say the least, but in this case, mind control might actually be justifiable here.

Assuming all the stories coming out of America and Japan were true, of course.

"What about Kazakhstan?" Another Shieldbearer asked after a few seconds of silence.

"In talks, oddly enough," Ivan said, his tone audibly lighter. "They've never been a major problem historically, and naturally want to keep their independence. Negotiations are going well, last I heard. Considering their strong relations with Uzbekistan, I believe ADVENT wants them to leverage them into surrendering to ADVENT control. I find it unlikely we'll have to fight them, and they'll also likely join ADVENT."

Roman nodded. Since Kazakhstan shared a border with Russia, he knew a little about it. Though not that much, honestly, which was likely a point in their favor since the countries he tended to know a lot about were ones he was enemies of.

"What are they doing to prepare for us?" Someone asked. "Will they surrender?"

"Unlikely at this point," Moshe shook his head. "They're preparing as best they can. We can be thankful none of them ever developed nuclear weapons, else this would potentially be a problem. As it stands, they really have nothing that will stop us except time. They've apparently tried to solicit help from China, but have been stonewalled completely."

Made sense. There was no way China was going to back a clearly losing side, much less deliberately antagonize ADVENT and XCOM. China wasn't run by complete idiots, for better or worse, just very arrogant and prideful people.

Eh, China was something for people smarter than him to figure out.

"Now, for us, we will likely move into Afghanistan next," Ivan continued, his hard gaze sweeping the room. "Once Israel and America clean up Saudi Arabia, they will assist us in taking the remaining nations. Depending on how negotiations go, we could have support from India and Kazakhstan as well. In short, this war is coming to a close and I suspect it will happen sooner than later."

Roman smiled. Things were finally coming together. Hopefully he wouldn't have to wait too long before the fighting started. He could feel the energy in the room from the other soldiers, their spirit renewed after learning how close the war could be to actually ending. They were ready to finish it.

All they needed was the word.

---

ADVENT Intelligence Control, United States of America

"The operation was largely a success," Elizabeth finished, handing Saudia a piece of paper with a list of names. "These are the instigators and anarchists we arrested, all currently being held and awaiting prosecution. My agents' evidence is indisputable, and I'm already ordering interrogations on some of the more influential ones for details on their groups."

"Good," Saudia nodded, glancing over at Stein who was standing straight and still at the other side of the table. "Both of you did good work. People are scared, but there aren't riots in the streets."

"I think we need to take the initiative now," Stein stated bluntly. "Some of these people were connected to known anarchist groups, and there are others who have equally dangerous influence. That's sufficient evidence in the Advent Directive to mandate the disbanding of their groups."

"Assuming you're referring to Antifa, it isn't that simple," Elizabeth mused, starting to pace. "They have a loose command structure, if you could even call it one. The problem is that it's an ideology, and ideologies are hard to kill. You know about Anonymous?"

Stein raised an eyebrow. "That hacker group that had a big mouth?"

Saudia snorted at the description, and Elizabeth chuckled. "Yes, that's the one. Effectiveness aside, they made Anonymous into something of a cultural phenomenon because they openly stated that it was an idea. It was something anyone could be. Antifa is similar, if more violent. Taking out their leaders won't accomplish much because they know their strength is in decentralization."

"This is still a simple problem," Stein shrugged. "You just find the participants and arrest them. Kill the entire movement, not just the leaders. Instill terror in anyone even thinking of joining them. People are squeamish about using that word, but terror is more effective than leniency."

"In certain cases," Saudia interrupted. "Or it could have the opposite effect. We could do as you say and make this as public as possible. I think that is a bad idea simply due to the climate at the moment. The last things people need right now is to feel more terrified. Terrified people can sometimes feel they have nothing to lose."

She glanced at Elizabeth. "That being said, I agree with Stein that these people need to be dealt with. But I want it done quietly."

"I have a possible solution," Elizabeth said suddenly, actually pausing her pacing. "One of the greatest strengths these people have is coordination and belonging. If they could be isolated, they could be negated since I highly doubt most of these people have actually met in person. The solution might actually be simple – we let them speak, but silence them."

Stein frowned. "Come again?"

"I believe the internet term is shadowbanning," Elizabeth explained. "In essence, it allows a person to post on a certain site, but no one else can see what they post. Essentially placing someone in a glass box that they can see out of, but not actually interact with. They would still have the illusion of freedom, but no one else could see it. Social media in particular is susceptible to this."

Saudia scratched her chin. "What of the opposite effect? I presume it would be possible to amplify a voice or idea?"

"It certainly is," Elizabeth nodded, smiling. "However, the Directive does have some restrictions on the extent to which we can interfere. Invisible promotion of certain ideologies is only acceptable to placate a populace on the verge of panic strong enough to destabilize ADVENT."

"I'm not sure this would qualify then," Stein noted dryly. "We're not quite at that point yet."

"That depends," Saudia recalled. "I believe such an action has to be approved by either the Congress of Nations, or the Executive, Military, Peacekeeper and Intelligence branches jointly reaching the same conclusion. At least four of the five are needed, and that would give us that power for three months."

"Requirements for evidence are strict though," Elizabeth warned. "But I do think we have enough to make a case."

"Then I want you to put something together with Treduant or Savvin," Saudia said. "If this gets put through the Congress first, then the media won't just be able to say this is some sort of power grab."

Stein snorted. "The media can go to hell. What exactly can they do anyway? Strongly disapprove?"

"People watch the news in fact," Elizabeth said dryly, eyeing Stein. "It's still a massive demographic, and one we don't entirely control. Speaking of which, Chancellor, the media is not exactly happy with you."

She sniffed. "What a surprise."

"They're being clever about it," Elizabeth said, grimacing. "But the insinuation is clearly that ADVENT is failing and you are unfit to lead. They're not going overboard with defamatory stories, not quite yet, but they are clearly cherry-picking coverage that paints you in a bad light."

Stein frowned. "Aren't there provisions in the Directive that require full context? Otherwise they're breaking the law."

"Not in opinion segments," Elizabeth corrected. "Which is where a larger amount of the insinuations are coming from. The problem is that people don't know how to separate fact from opinion, and they'll trust these so-called 'news anchors' blindly without checking for themselves."

"People are stupid," Stein shrugged. "What else is new? But even still they can't flat-out lie."

"Hence why I said insinuations," Elizabeth clarified again. "Bad news is that they're targeting Treduant next it seems. Canadian media hates us for obvious reasons. Russia is fine, but it's state-owned for the most part. Europe is right now running a lot of anti-ADVENT pieces. France joining is worrying for them, and they aren't under the same restrictions media in ADVENT is."

"Which I assume amounts to calling us a totalitarian nightmare," Saudia guessed dryly. "Amusing. But I am not worried about them. Fear mongering only works until the aliens come. France was a warning to the people, and until the EU puts up their own plan, people are going to want to join the ones who are actually doing something about the alien problem."

"Well, I'm ready to move whenever you give the word," Stein said. "You said there are plans to end the war in the Middle East?"

"Yes there are," Saudia nodded, her lips curling into a smile. "Both of you will be coming to the meeting with XCOM. It sounds like they want this war ended as badly as we do."

Stein actually frowned. "Chancellor, that is more concerning than anything else. I thought XCOM was adamant about not getting involved."

"So I thought," Saudia shrugged. "But I suppose they came around."

Stein narrowed her eyes. "From my few meetings with the Commander, I highly doubt that is the case. The only reason I can think of that they would suddenly be willing to help is if they were scared and know something we don't."

Saudia's smiled slowly faded. That had admittedly not crossed her mind. "A fair point."

Stein shrugged. "Just warning you that I doubt XCOM is making this decision out of the goodness of their hearts or they saw the light or some other crap. The Commander is practical first and foremost. The only reason I can see him doing this is if he genuinely believed he didn't have a choice." She paused. "Just be aware of that when talking to them."

Saudia nodded, wondering how much she should press the Commander for in private. If he really was this worried, it did not sound good for any of them.

---

Switzerland, ADVENT Command

This was going to be interesting.

Saudia brushed back her hair and checked her uniform to make sure everything was in place. She didn't have the time or inclination to go to Canada, but she was certainly going to be as professional as possible when speaking to the Prime Minister via video conference. Low tech, especially with holographic displays being implemented in most ADVENT command centers, but she could make do.

She suspected that Prime Minister Murphy was not going to be entirely happy to see her, and the feeling was mutual. Nonetheless, they now needed Canada as a practical necessity. The situation had become more serious, and they needed to reassess their decisions. Her options were more limited, and she hoped he could see that.

The screen suddenly flashed and displayed Murphy's face, and the Prime Minister was wearing his standard political attire, which amounted to a well-pressed suit. She couldn't really see anything below that, and it didn't matter. "Prime Minister," she greeted cordially. "I trust you are well?"

"I am, Chancellor, and I thank you for your concern." She wondered if he was being mildly sarcastic, though couldn't tell it in his voice. "I am sorry about recent events. What the American population is dealing with right now is terrible."

She actually believed he was being sincere here, but only because he had specifically noted the population, not the leadership or even ADVENT. Fit with his psyche profile. "Your concern in appreciated," she answered, inclining her head. "We are doing our best to assuage the concerns of the public and reassess our strategies."

"No doubt," he nodded, and went silent.

There was nothing spoken between them for just over a minute. Saudia finally sighed. "I won't sugarcoat this, Prime Minister, we both know why we're speaking. I did not agree with your decision before, but I could work around it. I think we can agree that the situation has changed, has it not?"

"The situation in America has changed," he answered evenly. "Canada is unaffected, last I checked."

She carefully kept her face expressionless, though glared daggers into his irritatingly calm face. "Indeed you are correct," she said coolly. "The American situation has indeed become more serious. To be blunt, we are losing ground and need a way to halt the alien advance. In the interest of complete and full disclosure, we need Canada now. There is very little choice here."

"There is always choice," he answered. "Tell me, Chancellor, do the aliens control territory from border to border? Is there a straight line of aliens that just ends on the Canadian border? If not, then I do not see why allowing you to pass through our borders is necessary."

He was arguing damn semantics. She would think he was an idiot if she didn't know that wasn't the case. The problem was that he was a damn civilian pacifist. "It's not quite so simple," she explained. "Of course the aliens don't have something as simple as a line to prevent us from flanking them. But they do have sensors, they likely have satellites and scouts scanning the immediate area on their front line."

She paused, thinking how best to illustrate this. "What Canada allows us to do is move large divisions that don't only strike the aliens from an unexpected angle, but from where they are weak. Imagine, Prime Minister, if the ADVENT army struck Seattle again and began marching south. Suddenly the aliens are at risk of cities between ADVENT and the coast being cut off. They halt their advance, they pull back, and we begin boxing them in. That simply cannot be accomplished by moving within our borders."

"And I suspect we would then be involved in your war," Murphy said slowly. "I will also be blunt, Chancellor, I don't entirely believe you can win. I've followed your conflicts. You've lost, XCOM has lost. The aliens are more advanced than us. What exactly are you accomplishing by throwing lives away? Let me pose a question to you: If you lose, will the aliens treat you better or worse than if you just surrendered?"

Saudia realized her fists were clenched in white-hot fury at this coward's blindness. "I will not be responsible for enslaving the Human race to these aliens," she almost snarled. "If you really believe these aliens will show mercy, you have not been paying attention. You saw the recorded footage from the Sectoid Hive. You saw what they were doing to us. You saw them take Australia. If you want to condemn your people to that fate, then I cannot do anything to dissuade you of that. But I would rather die than live under the thrall of an alien master."

"You are too emotional," he said, lips set in a thin line. "It's going to be worse when you finally lose, and despite that, if you were anyone else, representing anyone else, I would help you. But I will not put my people under the thumb of a different master. I will not subject them to ADVENT willingly. Do I make myself clear, Chancellor?"

"You will not allow us to move within your borders?" She demanded icily.

"No," he answered flatly. "My answer has not changed, and it will not. I can make it no clearer than that."

Saudia took a deep breath. "Understand very carefully what you are saying, Prime Minister. By doing this you will stand in opposition to ADVENT protecting humanity. You might be annexed. Do I make myself clear?"

He surprisingly smiled. "No, Chancellor, you will not do anything outside speak empty threats. You are powerless to do anything. You have armies, you have influence, but you only keep it because you put so much effort into convincing people that you are benevolent and the 'right side'. If you go so far as to annex a country that did nothing more than say 'no' to you, then you will be showing the world exactly what you are."

"And this is what you are, Chancellor. You are a tyrant. You are prideful. You are emotional. You hide all of this from the people, but there can be no hiding such an act, there can be no justifying it in the eyes of the people. Do you really think the world will just accept you? Knowing that you'll destroy anyone who dares speak against you?"

A pause. "No, Chancellor, they will not. So I do not fear your empty threats Chancellor Vyandar, your words are as hollow as your promises for a better life or hope against the aliens. You can certainly try, but know that you will not only make me a martyr, but the great nation of Canada as well. If that is required to have the world strip you of power…then I accept that. Good day, Chancellor, I wish you good fortune in your war."

And the screen flashed to an idle setting.

Saudia stood there, both stunned at his audacity and his ignorance.

Yet she couldn't help but almost admire him in a way. No, respect. He might be the embodiment of ignorance and idiocy when it came to the aliens, but he actually had a spine which is more than she could say for most people.

Unfortunately, he had sealed his fate with that little speech.

By refusing to help, Canada now stood in direct opposition of ADVENT operations that protected the entire Human race, and was eligible for annexation. Prime Minister Jace Murphy was no longer fit to hold office over Canada and the entire legislature was also no longer reliable.

She pulled out her phone and dialed Treduant's number. "Yes, Chancellor?" She answered after Saudia had waited a minute to connect.

"Have your representative call for a special session in Congress," she said coldly. "Canada has met the requirements for annexation. I want legislation introduced now."

Silence on the other end. "I'll need justifiable evidence."

"You'll have it," Saudia promised. "I will begin gathering the needed authorizations on my end. Bring Iseul, Savvin, and Nowinski on this as well."

"I'll start now," Treduant answered, sadness in her voice. "I wish it hadn't come to this."

"As do I," Saudia said grimly. "But they made their choice. Now they must face the consequences."

---

Command Chamber, Mars Forward Observation Station

The haptic shield dissipated as the Battlemaster strode into the room that only held one other occupant. Caelior stood in the center of the room, which was displaying a holographic projection of the first battle of Japan captured by one of the Overseer UFOs. Caelior was looking at the recreation of Patricia, her hand extended towards the aliens she was controlling.

"I have been analyzing their tactics here," Caelior said as he turned his attention to the Battlemaster. "I understand my mistakes. Now the humans will not be able to stop me when I launch our retaliation."

The Battlemaster gave a single nod. "And you will be accompanying them?"

Caelior raised one hand, palm up. The Battlemaster felt the room begin vibrating, and the metal and glass visibly shook, even his armor became slightly uncomfortable. "I will do more than accompany them," he stated, venom lacing his voice. "The Humans are inferior and will not be able to stop me. I will crush their cities and splatter their armies. When Japan lies in ruins, I will move to the next country until Humanity submits or dies."

He had spirit, if nothing else. But there were rules to follow. "Only destroy the cities if needed. We will need some form of shelter to establish our hold. It will delay us to build bases in ruins."

"The voice of reason as ever, Battlemaster," Quisilia said cheerfully, walking in with a purring cat in his lower arms. "But I wish you would impose some rule on melodrama." He glanced over at Caelior, who was staring at Quisilia with unmasked irritation. "Honestly, do you understand how ridiculous you sound?" His voice became a poor imitation of Caelior's. "'I will crush their skulls beneath my hands and bathe in the blood of my enemies. I will tear them apart limb from limb!' Please, we're not savages."

"Leave," Caelior hissed. "Or I will turn that little feline into white and red paste."

Quisilia straightened and reassuringly petted the cat which purred up at him. "I doubt it, Little Storm. If you do, I'll cut off one of your hands. Maybe two." He set the cat on the ground, and it trotted out of the room, which amusingly told the Battlemaster that he was mildly concerned Caelior would follow through on his threat. "But I am going to be helpful here. You're underestimating the Humans. Badly. What exactly are you going to do? Do the exact same thing, except you'll be down there?"

"I have elevated some aliens to serve as overseers," Caelior answered. "But my presence alone will-" He hissed in surprise as Quisilia's hand flashed and a dagger was suddenly buried in Caelior's arm.

The blade was suddenly torn out and flew back into Quisilia's hand, blue blood covering it and beginning to leak down his arm, even as the flesh itself began visibly healing. "This isn't a game," Quisilia stated, all humor gone from his voice. "Did you forget Aegis is down there? Do you really think he doesn't know how to beat you? Kill you? Do you think he somehow hasn't shared that little bit of information with XCOM?"

Quisilia hissed as he was suddenly telekinetically lifted into the air, Caelior's lower hand clenched into a fist. "You give these Humans too much credit," he growled. "Their weapons will not touch me, let alone kill me."

"Little fool," Quisilia sighed and Caelior suddenly groaned. Quisilia then dropped to the ground, staring at the Ethereal that had now fallen to one knee. The Battlemaster let him be; Caelior needed some lessons beaten into him, and he'd been coddled for too long. "I don't suppose you realize that XCOM has lasers, yes? How exactly will you stop those? How exactly are you going to stop someone shooting you in the back? I wounded you from the front and you couldn't stop me."

Quisilia knelt down in front of an audibly panting Caelior, and pulled out a smartphone of all things. "Think very carefully before you dismiss what we have to say, Little Storm," he said, pointing the smartphone at the Ethereal visibly in pain. "And if you ever try that little trick again, I will post this to twitter and make you the laughingstock of the Humans. Stop believing you're somehow superior. I shouldn't have to remind you that the Ravaged One died, and Aegis defected."

Quisilia stood, even as Caelior groaned. "Do you wonder how the Battlemaster is winning so easily? It's because he takes this seriously. He doesn't consider every victory an absolute. He respects his enemies, and he certainly doesn't make childish rants promising bloody vengeance."

Quisilia put the phone away. "Think about that, Little Storm. The days of your incompetence are over, and if you still fail to learn, I will consider your death a benefit." With that, Quisilia turned and strode out of the room, leaving a mentally tormented Caelior and silent Battlemaster alone. He considered himself above such displays of terror, but he did find some satisfaction in Quisilia reminding Caelior that he wasn't invincible.

So while he waited for Caelior to recover, he decided to see what exactly Caelior had planned, and if needed, improve it. He glanced over to see Caelior had still not recovered, and figured that he'd be that way for a while.

Quisilia didn't give lessons people forgot quickly.

---

Switzerland, ADVENT Command

As far as the Commander knew, this was the first time so many high-ranking and influential members of ADVENT and XCOM had come together to put together a plan of action. He recognized some of them from the brief meeting before Japan was attacked, even if he didn't know them well outside their positions.

There was Helion Weekes, the Chief of the Lancer Corps. The Commander almost wished he could work for XCOM, since his record was one of the most impressive he'd seen. Saudia had chosen well in picking him for the role. Commander Christiaens and Elizabeth Falka were also here, in addition to Amalda Stein.

That was the leadership of the Lancers, ADVENT Military, ADVENT Intelligence and the Peacekeepers all in one room. And he'd brought along Patricia, Zhang, and Jackson. All of them stood around the holotable, ready to finally begin. "I am assuming everyone is aware of each other, by reputation if nothing else," Saudia began, looking around the table. "With that in mind, we should begin. Commander, welcome."

The Commander nodded beside her. "I'm glad we were able to set this up so quickly."

Laura gave a humorless smile. "Don't think we can afford not to, Commander. I'm assuming you've come to the same conclusion."

"That I have," he agreed, glancing at Saudia. "Chancellor, would you like to begin, or should I?"

"You first," she relented, letting him take the center.

The Commander stepped forward and waited a few seconds before speaking. "The war in the Middle East has gone on long enough. All it is now is a drain on resources until every hostile nation is captured. In light of recent events, I do not think we can afford to drag it out any longer."

"Agreed," Weekes nodded. "We're wasting time and soldiers."

"Then how would you propose to speed it up?" Laura asked. "There are some things that cannot simply be bypassed."

The Commander looked to his right. "Zhang?"

His Intelligence Director cleared his throat. "One thing that has become apparent as this war continues is that morale is fading drastically. These nation's armies don't want to fight, yet their governments are not going to surrender. ADVENT is solving the problem the wrong way. Yes, killing their armies will ultimately achieve victory, but it will take far longer."

"The solution is simple," the Commander continued, clasping his hands behind his back. "We execute the governments of these hostile countries. Remove them from the equation. They will not surrender, and they have forfeited that right long ago. They must be eliminated. Not captured, not negotiated with, killed."

"There will be immediate chaos," Stein warned after a few seconds, her brow furrowing. "Provided that everything goes according to plan. And what happens if the armies still don't surrender?"

"Then I suppose you have to kill them," the Commander sighed. "But I highly doubt that would happen. Men can only fight so long and lose so much before they just stop. If their government is dead, their land captured, what more are they fighting for? How will they rationalize continuing the fight?"

"True," Elizabeth said, rapping her fingers on the table, glancing up absentmindedly. "We could potentially exploit that. This isn't even counting the citizens under martial law. With some well-placed propaganda, we can turn them into ultimately welcoming us."

"I agree with the goal," Weekes said, inclining his head in a sign of respect. "But it will take some of our best. The Lancers can do it, but it will cost lives, even if we wait for them to be genetically modified."

"There is no need to worry," Patricia interrupted, raising a hand and a smile on her face. "You don't need an army everywhere. Point me towards any government and I will handle the rest. Give us information and we can send an XCOM team to wipe them out. We are willing to commit to this, and you don't need armies of hundreds, or even dozens. Just one psion is enough for any Human army."

"That's…reassuring," Saudia said after a few seconds. The Commander noted that all of the ADVENT personnel had become much stiffer and deliberately trying not to be affected by remembering that Patricia could read their minds. "I think that we are of one mind on this. We end this war quickly and effectively."

"I will need to bring over several thousand Peacekeepers at least," Stein told Saudia. "It's going to be a nightmare to keep the population under control, especially in the rural cities."

"Noted," Saudia nodded, then looked over to Laura. "Commander Christiaens?"

"Necessary, I suppose," she sighed. "In which case we need to decide on what we're doing with India and Kazakhstan, right now India wants Pakistan minimum in addition to protection from China, they might ask for Afghanistan as well. Kazakhstan wants to keep Uzbekistan out of the fighting and for us to take them as a member state."

"I'll have Hassan handle it," Saudia said. "He'll know how much we can push them. But it's superfluous anyway. Them joining ADVENT is worth quite a lot. With France now with us, it's only a matter of time before the EU follows suit. And speaking of which…"

She stopped, and looked over at him, her lips in a thin pressed line. "Legislation has been introduced to annex Canada. I will be authorizing it and am in the process of acquiring the needed authorizations."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "He still wouldn't listen to reason?"

Saudia's lips twitched in amusement. "I'm afraid not. He…dislikes me. He had some choice words at the end. Enough to convince me that he's no longer someone who can have any sort of influence in this world. Preparations are being made to deal with the fallout."

Good riddance. While he would have preferred Saudia refrain from annexing a rather peaceful country, the Prime Minister had brought it down upon himself quite frankly. She'd given him multiple chances and he'd spat on each one, which was intolerable in this day and age. Still, the Commander was somewhat impressed he'd actually had the gall to stand up to who was likely the most powerful woman in the world.

A shame. But Canada would be a massive boost to the war effort, India as well.

China would be furious.

He smiled at the thought.

"There is also something else I would like to make you aware of," the Commander said after a few seconds. "I have drafted an amendment to the Advent Directive regarding the usage of psionics."

All of them visibly reacted. Weekes and Laura stiffened in surprise, Stein raised an eyebrow and Saudia blinked rapidly. Elizabeth scratched her head in confusion. "Really?" Saudia finally said. "I didn't expect it-"

"Neither did I," he interrupted. "And this isn't without conditions. As of this point we are working on something we are calling the Manchurian Project. In essence it is a form of mental conditioning that would allow the shutdown of a rogue or dangerous psion. This is something that will be applied to all psions, XCOM and ADVENT, when it is complete. And we will hold the code words for your psions but you will not have the same for ours. This is non-negotiable."

"Guess you need some kind of power over us," Elizabeth muttered. "But it's a lot better than nothing, I'll admit."

"A question," Stein said slowly. "How restrictive is this mental conditioning?"

"The goal is for normal functionality," the Commander explained. "You should not be even able to tell if someone is under it, unless they act in a way they are specifically not programmed to do, or someone uses their code word."

"Thank you," she mused. "I approve. Psions cannot be running around without checks. The risk is too high and I'm glad you can see that."

"You said it was being worked on," Weekes recalled. "I suppose you will want some other form of insurance in the meantime?"

"Correct," the Commander nodded. "Having explosive micro-chips inserted into their heads and providing us with the codes will be an acceptable alternative for now. Although the potential psions must be informed of this beforehand." The Commander gestured to the side. "In addition, we will provide you will all our current research on Psionics and if requested, training from some of our own."

He paused, and lowered his voice. "I don't make this decision lightly. But I don't believe you will abuse it, and frankly, I don't think we have much of a choice. Our ability for psionics is one of our few advantages over the aliens. The more who can be awakened, the better. How you go about doing this is up to you."

"It is appreciated," Saudia finally said. "Unless there are objections, we will accept with the conditions."

He nodded towards Jackson. "Send it over, Central." He turned back to the holotable. "In the meantime, I think we need to retaliate. We need a victory or to at least blunt the alien attacks. In short, we need to hit where they're vulnerable."

"That I agree with," Weekes stated. "They've held that town in Japan for too long. It's time we destroyed it. The same with America. We need to reestablish supply lines with Portland before we're forced to pull out. I suppose you could assist us in this?"

"With pleasure," Patricia nodded. "And we've drafted some potential tactics we can used against the Battlemaster. They might not work all the time, but we might be able to catch him off guard."

Zhang's eyebrows scrunched together. "You said 'destroy' the town in Japan. How? I believe it is surrounded by an energy shield and point-laser defense systems. The only way to take it is to march an army there, and a lot of people will die."

Weekes pressed several buttons and a prototype unit suddenly came up. This was one of the most heavily armored soldiers that he'd seen. The colors were orange and black, and it held some kind of flamethrower in his hands, with an armored tank strapped to his back. "Dr. Mercado has been attempting to develop a suitable counter to close-range alien units. This is the result of the "Purifier" Project. Quite possibly the most dangerous unit in the entire military. While I'm sure Dr. Mercado would like to refine the final iteration a bit longer, I think the circumstances warrant an acceleration of his timeline. I have seen the unit in action and it will suffice."

"Really?" The Commander said, trying not to sound too skeptical. "It might be useful in certain situations."

"I'm afraid you don't understand," Weekes said with a smile. "Have you ever heard of chlorine trifluoride?"

"A pool chemical?" Jackson guessed lightly.

Weekes chuckled. "Not quite. But it's possibly the most dangerous and flammable chemical in the world. It was so dangerous even the Nazis stopped working on it because of how bad the effects were. This chemical can burn through nearly anything, concrete, dirt, metal, aliens. Water only makes it worse. In short, a squad of these soldiers is enough to put some fear into the aliens."

"Write that down," he told Jackson, mildly surprised Vahlen had never informed him of the existence of such a chemical. "I stand corrected then. With the correct protection…yes, I think we can work with this very well."

"And I will also have my agents in Australia perform some liberations of their own," Zhang interjected. "One of my agents has a contact that is providing essential information. Enough for Harper's resistance forces to launch an attack. If we coordinate several strikes at once…"

"The aliens will be briefly stunned," Laura finished. "They'll be surprised if nothing else."

"Then I think it's decided," the Commander said, looking around. "With that in mind, I see no point in waiting any further. We have drafted some plans of attack, and this should be done in coordination with ADVENT. Should we begin?"

"I think that's a rhetorical question, Commander," Laura said with some amusement. "I think we're all in favor of some retribution. Let's begin."

---

Supplementary Material

The Advent Directive

SECTION 7: ADVENT Peacekeeper Division

Subsection 7.2: Structure

Overview: Below are the varying ranks and positions within the following departments. Please note that sections specifically covering a division will only highlight relevant positions exclusive to that division. Generic and standardized breakdowns are in the previous subsection.

ADVENT Peacekeeper Command: Holds senior staff for all ADVENT Peacekeeper departments and is the central body for decisions that affect the entire Peacekeeper Division and even ADVENT as a whole. The following positions are as follows:

- Chief of Peacekeeper Operations

- Riot Control Commander

- Chief State Officer

- SSR Orchestrator

ADVENT Peacekeeper Riot Control and Pacification: Has responsibility over riot suppression and pacification against hostile civilian populations or violent civil unrest and the ranks are as follows by seniority:

- Regional Commander

- Riot Control Officer

- Riot Control Pacifier

ADVENT Peacekeeper State Officers: Has responsibility over enforcing the laws of ADVENT on a day to day basis and performing arrests, investigations, and protection in service of ADVENT citizens. The ranks are as follows by seniority:

- National Chief

- Regional Chief

- Department Chief

- State Officer

ADVENT Peacekeeper State Special Response (SSR): Is responsible for performing special operations in service of protecting ADVENT. Terrorism, organized crime and arrests of high-profile criminals are handled by the SSR. Ranks are as follows by seniority:

- SSR Watcher

- SSR Assassin

- SSR Saboteur

- SSR Executor

- SSR Operative

---

A/N: So, War of the Chosen in certainly fun. If I had to guess, I'm probably a little more than halfway through my campaign (Avenger maxed out, beginning plasma weapons/warden armor, killed one Chosen, just did the Blacksite, etc). Although I have a tendency to delay major story missions until I'm sufficiently powered, so I may be further along. Given me plenty of story ideas, some you no doubt noticed here. Although as a general rule, my adaptions are probably going to be a lot more dangerous. One of my Purifiers would kill any XCOM squad if they were idotic enough to actually let it fire at them.

Anyway, in some brief behind-the-scenes news, I've reorganized how my beta reading is done. I'd previously had it where one person did the main story , the other XCOM Files (Johnclaw Dragonhelm and BloodspltBOOM respectively), but since both were making corrections, I figured everyone working on the same page was best. I also added another beta reader (Thuzan117) for a total of three. So I think the net result should end up being chapters that are much better than otherwise, this one alone had several spots revised thanks to their feedback.

Next chapter might be a while, all depends on how soon I finish the campaign. Then I've got XCOM Files to do as well, ha. Thanks as always for the feedback and reading. And go get the expansion if you can, it's definitely worth it.

- Xabiar