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.

27. The Guardians

The Guardians

---

The Chronicler's Sanctum, Unknown - Australia

11/14/2016 - 1:19 P.M.

Abby did not particularly like where the Chronicler lived. Element-wise, it was actually perfectly comfortable, and there was no shortage of food and drink, but there was a smothering, unsettling feeling that permeated the entire place. The feeling was one that she would swear meant someone was reading her mind, but she'd never felt that either from Patricia or the Chronicler.

And while Patricia had her own ethics, and Abby trusted her, she wasn't naïve enough to think the Chronicler wasn't constantly monitoring her. However, as far as altering her thoughts? She hadn't noticed any evidence of that.

Then again, would she if it happened?

She shook her head. That was a rabbit trail that was pointless to dwell on right now, especially when things were likely going to become much more interesting in the next couple of days, assuming the Chronicler was actually going through with his initially outlandish plan to attack Sydney.

But he 'needed time' to get things in place, apparently. Now though, it seemed like he wanted to bring everyone up to speed, which was about time, since aside from sending XCOM a short affirmative signal telling them she was alive, she'd refrained from actually contacting them both because the Chronicler requested it, and she couldn't really do it without it being likely suspicious.

She still had no idea how she was going to explain this, short of telling the truth.

In the meantime, she and Harper had spent the time fully recovering, and getting the rest of them in more or less stable conditions. While Harper was naturally suspicious of the strange gel the Chronicler had, in addition to traditional medicines, it was by far the most effective. Abby didn't know how it worked, but it healed whatever it was placed on in a matter of days.

Christopher Williams, Roy Weaver, Derrick Ellison, and Norma Anderson were the sole survivors of the largest Australian Resistance cell, and while all of them were devastated by it, they were also wanting to exact vengeance on the aliens themselves. Harper had initially said that the goal was to leave since there wasn't any more they could do, before the Chronicler had interrupted and said that if they wanted vengeance, they would have it.

There was an assurance in his voice that made Abby believe him, and judging by the rapt attention he'd received, they felt the same. She didn't know if that was his telepathy, or just them wanting something to latch on to. She understood how they felt to an extent; leaving now would mean they'd essentially accomplished nothing. It would be an uncontested defeat.

Something all of them despised.

So now it was time to see what the Chronicler had to show them. Abby walked into the cool stone hallway, wanting to go to the central command center she and Harper had stumbled upon the first time. She also thought she'd figured out how this place worked. It seemed like all she needed to do was think of where she wanted to go, and it would lead to that room. It didn't make any sense, but her attempts of mapping the place out had led to her going in circles, reaching dead ends, and initially freaking her out.

Since the Chronicler was annoyingly vague about it, that was probably the best she was going to get, and with how weird everything else was here, a constantly shifting cave system was probably not too special.

The rest of them, minus the Chronicler himself, were already on the platform above the clear water, with some more consoles and a holotable of some sort being in the center. That hadn't been there before. All of them wore their former resistance gear, which the Chronicler had one of the machines repair for them, so it was as good as new.

"No sign of him?" Christopher grunted as she walked up, and Abby really wished he'd just cut the rest of his beard off, because right now it was a black patchy mess.

"Not yet," she answered, looking down at the holotable and seeing it was definitely different than usual. "Knowing him, he'll likely make some dramatic entrance."

"Whenever he gets here, we need to figure out the issue with ADVENT and XCOM," Harper said, crossing his arms and giving her a brief nod of acknowledgement. He now wore a black patch over his missing eye, to her relief. "I'm not keeping this a secret, and if he wants to go through attacking Sydney, he won't be able to either. And either way, they're going to hear about a strange Human psion from the aliens at some point."

"Well, I can't keep putting it off," Abby sighed. "This is a mess."

"One he could have helped us avoid," Norma said under her breath, the lighting making her dark skin even more shadowy. "Selfish bastard."

"Not really," Abby admitted. "He's been helping, he was just not obvious about it."

"Either way, nothing can be done about it now," Harper interjected. "All that's left is what happens next."

"Exactly," the Chronicler said smoothly, stepping out of thin air before them.

Abby sighed.

"Glad you joined us," Christopher said sarcastically. "Busy?"

"Mocking as your tone is, yes," the Chronicler said without missing a beat, as he pressed some buttons on the strange holotable. "But that's settled, and now it's time to let you all know what is happening."

The holotable came to life, but it wasn't holograms that were displayed. Instead, almost microscopic bars rose up from the table and formed into shapes with tangible density. No, not bars, little nanites it appeared to be, since bars couldn't make some of the 3D shapes. They were a dark grey, and formed into the city of Sydney, complete with buildings and everything. It was actually impressive how accurate it was.

"This is the target, which all of you are familiar with," the Chronicler said, pointing to the display. "So I won't repeat it, save that it is the main command center of the alien operations in Australia. Destroying it would not only get their attention, but slow any hope of expanding beyond the Oceanic Theatre, which for ADVENT means Korea, and maybe China."

"Wonderful," Norma said, eyeing him skeptically. "Thank you for your insightful commentary. It's not like we figured that out months ago."

Abby almost smirked. But really, she had a point. The Chronicler like usual didn't take offense. "Appreciated, Miss Anderson, but I am going somewhere with this." He motioned back to the display, which created small recreations of an Andromedon, Muton, and Vitakara, all at separate points.

"Each of these represents one of my forces," he continued. "I've been working on upgrading them since our last operation, Agent Gertrude, which will be necessary since I only have several thousand, and Sydney," he nodded again. "Has roughly ten thousand, not including Gateway support, much less any surprise visits from the aliens, or Ethereals."

"When you say 'upgraded'," Roy interjected, eyeing the Chronicler intently. "That means…?"

"I'm glad you asked," the Chronicler smiled and motioned to one of the cases that was resting against the wall. It floated over to them, and still hovering, the Chronicler opened it and inside were perhaps the most…alien…weapons she'd ever seen. At first it looked like some kind of rifle, with an odd stonish exterior, that was until she saw that the stone was pulsing.

The Chronicler reached in and all of them flinched as thousands of little silvery wire-like things sprouted from the stony flesh of the weapon, and embedded themselves in the Chronicler's hand, which he didn't even acknowledge. "This is a particle weapon, relatively low-tech, but I don't want to make things too difficult for my first attack." He noticed all of them staring and raised an eyebrow. "No, it doesn't hurt. It's perfectly harmless, but once you use this, you won't want to go back to regular unconnected weapons."

"You say that…" Roy said cautiously.

The Chronicler sighed, then suddenly tossed the weapon in Abby's direction and purely on instinct she reached up and grabbed it, and the countless little wires were now drilling into her hand. She yelped, but immediately realized that the Chronicler hadn't lied. She really couldn't feel anything. Abby looked down at the hand grasping the barrel, feeling the little things go deeper into her arm, but it just felt odd, not painful or even unpleasant.

She properly grasped the handle, once again feeling the wires go into her wrist, fingers, and arm, and cautiously let go of the barrel with the other and instantly the wires retracted, like they were never connected at all. "The hell?" She muttered, looking at the arm and not seeing any trace of the punctures.

"Go on, test it out," the Chronicler encouraged with a smile. "You won't hurt anything, although I'd prefer you not hit the consoles."

"Or any of us," Christopher added.

Abby nodded, turning away and looking down at the rifle which was morphing the stock, and eventually solidified into what seemed to be a stock perfectly adjusted for her. Testing it out, she lifted it up, her other hand grasping the barrel like normal, and the wires entered her once more. Yep, perfectly tuned to her. Even the handle was reforming and allowing her a tighter grip. She aimed at the wall ahead, and fired.

A crystal blue beam shot out with a sound like a continuous high-pitched energy discharge. The beam slammed into the wall and a section practically exploded, then she unconsciously stopped firing. The beam ceased, and the aftermath was a section of the stone wall that was just…vaporized. There was an impression at least an inch thick, in a perfect circle with a two foot diameter.

She was about to compliment the weapon's power, when she realized she hadn't actually pulled a trigger. Abby looked down to confirm, and sure enough, there wasn't anything. Was she firing by pure thought? Was that possible? To test it again, she raised the fire and gave the mental fire command. The beam shot out, and impacted another section of the wall.

"Where did you get these?" Harper asked incredulously as she walked back.

"Nowhere you'd know," the Chronicler dismissed. "And no, you won't be able to just make these. They are…fickle. If the wrong person picks one up…well….boom."

Abby raised an eyebrow. "Sentient rifles?"

The Chronicler chuckled. "Not exactly. But this is how I'm augmenting my army. You saw my armor, Agent Gertrude. It functions in a similar way. But now I have a proposition for each of you, Agent Gertrude excluded."

"Go ahead," Harper said after a few seconds.

"It's rather simple, actually," he said, clasping his hands in front of him. "I have an army. But I would prefer to have some Human support. Leaders. Generals if you wish. Regardless of if we win in Sydney, the war will be far from over. Australia will be a battleground until the war on Earth is over, so I would humbly extend an offer to join my efforts in making the Collective uncomfortable here."

The former Resistance fighters exchanged a look. "Flattering," Norma said slowly. "The thing is, we're just Humans, and to be honest, we're not much of a help. Even if we have those," she gestured at the weapon Abby held. "That's not going to help us, especially if we've got Ethereals coming to kill us. And we're not psions."

"I know," the Chronicler assured her. "Which is why you'll have to be enhanced as well." He pointed to some black cylinders on the side of the room Abby hadn't noticed until now. They were some kind of metal, and there was a console with glowing lights close to it, but otherwise it didn't appear special.

"The procedure is painless, I promise," he told them as they moved to get a closer look. "When it is finished, you will not be Human, not entirely anymore. But you will be better, faster, and stronger. While I cannot promise immortality, you will come close. Very close." He looked to Harper. "In addition, it will repair any previous injuries."

"This sounds way too good to be true," Christopher said slowly. "What's the catch?"

"The catch?" The Chronicler looked upwards thoughtfully. "You will simply have to fight the same battle I have been."

Abby got the feeling he wasn't talking about the current war with the Collective.

"I don't need an answer now," the Chronicler said, moving back to the particle table. "But before the battle would be preferable. I don't intend to launch it for several more days. Agent Gertrude, please come here." She stepped to him as he was punching buttons on the device.

"I assume that offer didn't include me?" She asked, as Harper moved away to talk with his soldiers.

"I doubt you want to be tied to events here, though I won't turn down your help if you really want to provide it," he said without looking at her. "Truthfully, I believe you will be useful elsewhere. Do not worry, I won't send you away without anything. I have some gear specifically for you as well, but this is my war now. Subterfuge isn't as important. Now, I need you when I speak to the Commander."

She blinked. "You're going to-"

"Yes," he sighed, looking up. "Unfortunately, my time in hiding must come to an end. I, of course, could simply force you and the others to refuse to give details, but due to recent events, that would be a pointless waste of time. Better XCOM is aware of the situation completely, instead of accidentally disrupting my work."

The grey particles suddenly formed into the shape of the Commander, which was an odd sight since his features were almost perfectly completed down to his hair, but he could be mistaken for a statue if he wasn't moving. "Who is-" He blinked. "Agent Gertrude. We've been concerned," he saw the Chronicler. "Who are you?"

"That is why we're talking, Commander," the Chronicler said, inclining his head. "We've met before, I believe. I was with Saudia when you came to the Bastion, although you didn't speak much with me."

"Ah, right," the Commander nodded. "I remember you. You had a title, Chronicler. A pleasure to see you, I suppose, but what are you doing with my agent?"

"A long story," Abby said, briefly summarizing what had happened with the Resistance coming under attack. Then she got to the part where the Chronicler had come and fought off the alien, with his psionics.

The Commander's gaze immediately focused on the Chronicler. "I see. So they have more of those aliens. And you are a psion. Interesting. Saudia forgot to share this information with me."

The Chronicler smiled. "She didn't know. I never told anyone."

"Why?"

"Call it a code," he said. "There wasn't a need to, and my job was simply to gather information, and ensure that the Director of EXALT never came to harm. She has plenty of protection now, and we have a war to win, do we not?"

He paused. "Apologies for keeping Agent Gertrude from informing you of the truth of the situation, but I did need to take some precautions. However, we're both professionals, so if you want, I will get to the point."

Nice of the Chronicler to cover for her, even if it would likely make the Commander angry. But all he did was simply state, "Go ahead."

"I will be taking over the war in Australia," he stated without any ambiguity. "I suspect I will have at least a few of what remains of the Australian Resistance join me, and I have dominated a respectable number of aliens. I can wage a war, in addition to any other unexpected surprises."

"Your war will last until an Ethereal arrives," the Commander warned flatly. "As much as Saudia will want to kill you when she finds out who you are, I would also assume she would prefer you alive until then. Psion or not, you can't fight an Ethereal on your own."

He smiled. "Perhaps. But I'll take my chances. I don't answer to you, Commander. I'm not asking for your permission, I'm just making you aware that Australia will be a warzone, which I will handle until XCOM and ADVENT push the aliens back everywhere else. Then I will of course, cede the conflict to you."

"How generous," the Commander said dryly. "Unfortunately I'm not in a position to really interfere either way. I assume you also contacted me for a reason beyond this?"

"Aside from suggesting that Agent Gertrude be recalled," he said. "This type of warfare is not for her, and while I would like her to see me fight in Sydney, she would be more useful elsewhere. However, I will not return her empty-handed. And if you wish, I can inform you of the plan of attack."

The Commander thought for a moment, then gave a nod. "Fine. First tell me your plan."

---

Desolan, War Camp 402

11/15/2016

Nartha decided he definitely had enough evidence at this point. Being Zararch gave him access to quite a bit of equipment, much of it for surveillance purposes, and after placing a monitoring nanodrone on Merina, he now had access to both her location and high-quality audio, and he'd had a small video drone follow her around, always making sure to be hidden. Andromedons made excellent micro-drones, and the Zararch had plenty incorporated into shells that looked like insects.

This posed something of a potential issue, since there weren't really any insects on Desolan, but as long as it stayed away, that was all that was needed. The days of monitoring had paid off quite handsomely, as Merina was definitely altering records, and then taking the unlisted Muton children and leaving them at dead drops, which were soon picked up by another hooded figure.

He had spent some time debating actually bugging the boxes, or even the area, since he didn't want to spook her, or anyone else for that matter. However, he also doubted that they had the means to detect nanotrackers, and he had installed one in it just in case. That being said, now was probably the time to do something about it. He'd spent some more time speaking to her, and she definitely viewed him in a positive light, and in time, might possibly bring him on board her little trafficking operation, but he simply didn't have that kind of time.

So he'd invited her to his temporary quarters, which he'd ensured were scrubbed of any listening devices of visible and nano variety. It was to 'discuss improvements' as he'd lied, but in truth he was going to get some answers out of her. The door buzzer beeped, and he unlocked it, and Merina stepped in, baring her teeth in greeting as she saw him. "Nartha."

He didn't return the smile. "Merina. Please take a seat." He gestured to the chair on the opposite end of the table he was at, a bare thing, and there wasn't anything on the table itself except for his holoprojector. While she moved forward, he locked the door behind him, and activated his white noise device just as a precaution.

"Already down to business," she said, not appearing to notice his much colder demeanor. "Did you speak to the Sargon?"

"Merina, I am going to get to the point," Nartha said tiredly, straightening. "I've spent enough time waiting, so I need some answers. Where are you taking the children?"

She froze, blinking at him in astonishment before his words registered. Her mouth opened and closed several times. "I…I…I don't know-"

He pressed a button and activated the holoprojector that showed in perfect detail her leaving the container containing the Muton child at the dead drop. "Really." He said dryly. "Or should I play the last one?" He didn't have it, and had been rather lucky to get this, but she didn't need to know it was a bluff. "Or perhaps I could pull up the records you altered, to make it appear like there were only fifty-seven babies when in reality there were fifty-nine?"

He gave a humorless smile. "Your operation is clever, but this happening on such a large scale? We were going to notice eventually."

She was a much paler shade of green now, staring at him in terror. He turned off the holodisplay. "You are very, very lucky that you weren't discovered by another Zararch agent, otherwise you would be before one of the Sectoid Interrogators. However, we both share similar goals."

That seemed to shake her out of her paralysis. "What?"

"I am a Zararch agent," he told her simply. "But one who has…issues with the Collective. There is a lot happening you do not know about. Our species has been taken advantage of by the Elders, and the time has come to change that. I've been working to locate and unify the resistant elements within the Vitakara and Ethereal Collective as a whole." He nodded towards her. "I received this assignment personally from the Zar'Chon. My instructions were to find the cause of the abductions, and stop them. I intend to unite them with the Nulorian, and deliver a suitable target to satisfy the Zar'Chon."

He paused for a few seconds. "So I need to know the details of your operation."

Merina visibly swallowed. "What…what do you plan to do?"

Nartha cocked his head. "I don't know without understanding how you operate. How many mature Mutons do you have?"

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "They keep details like that secret. But thousands at least."

A start, and they would have likely not been subjected to the brutal training, which was bad in that they might not be as effective, but good in that they quite possibly may be smarter or more competent. "Your people have a substantial army of untouched Mutons to use against the Collective, that's what I plan. In addition, you will be put in contact with the Nulorian, who can likely make your operation run smoother without bringing the Zararch down on you again."

"You don't understand," Merina suddenly interjected. "We took them away because we didn't want them to go to war! We didn't do it for…" She gestured wildly. "Your grand plan of rebellion!"

He'd wondered about this. Yet it seemed a pointless goal, so he hadn't devoted much time to it. What was the point of abducting Mutons over a period of years if you weren't going to use them? It wasn't as though they were smart enough to be useful otherwise. "I see," he said slowly. "Then why go to all the trouble for no future use?"

"You really are a Zararch agent," she hissed in frustration. "Not everything is a resource or tool. Much as you like to pretend otherwise, these soldiers you think are mindless are not. They only are because that's what we make them. From the moment they are born, these children are tortured. They know nothing except violence, and that's repeated until they die or pass the tests! They are aliens, but they don't deserve this. Not without a choice, which we take from them."

"The Muton program is ineffective and needs to change," Nartha agreed. "And that was at the creation of the Elders. Direct your anger at them, not me."

"And why not?" She demanded. "You want to use them as an army!"

He nodded. "When the time comes."

She stared at him. "And how does that make you any better?"

He didn't exactly want to get into a debate on how much the individual Muton was worth, but he thankfully didn't have to argue that point since he had plenty of other ones. "Because I will be using them to free our species from the Elders. I will use them to establish our independence and rebuild our species into what it should have been. This is bigger than you, Merina, what I am working towards will affect not just my species, but every other one in the Collective."

He pressed a button on his holoprojector, and brought up an image of Earth. "I don't know how familiar you are with this planet, but a species was discovered here. Humans they are called, and right now they are fighting the Collective. They may even win. But this is perhaps the only chance to make change happen."

He looked up at her. "You are accomplishing nothing now. You have no tangible goal. What you are doing now is ultimately meaningless if you are actually telling the truth. You will always be raising Muton children and watching them die. Perhaps you'll 'save' several, but nothing will actually change. I could have ended your operation now, and everything you were working towards would die. Do you know what the Collective would do to those Mutons you saved?"

She flinched, and he nodded. "They would kill them," he confirmed. "Likely not a quick death either. Maybe throw them to the Berserkers. Maybe turn them over to be experimented. Perhaps using them as target practice for the others who would like nothing more than to kill their traitorous brethren. And you? If you're lucky they would kill you right there. What is more likely is you'll be sent to the Sectoids."

"I get your point," she muttered.

"I don't think you do," Nartha said bluntly. "The only way this changes is for the Collective to fall. You will not survive forever. The only future where you achieve what you really want is helping me take it down. You have two choices here. Take me to your contact, or refuse, and I arrest you and bring this operation down."

She looked at him, almost sadly. "You would destroy everything just because you can?"

"No," he answered. "Because I don't have time to waste. If I cannot establish contact with your group, I have no reason not to prove to the Zar'Chon that I am still loyal to the Collective. While it is disappointing, you are not the only opportunity I have."

She was silent for a few moments, thinking. "I will give you my contact," she said. "But I don't know if he'll agree."

"Let him know what I want," he advised her. "I don't want any surprises. I want to speak with the leadership, no one lower. Make it happen or I will bring this down."

Now this was a risk. If whoever was running this was smart, they would have contingencies beyond one or two operatives being discovered. Logically, one compromised operative should not bring down the entire thing, it was a calculated risk on his part. If his theory was correct, all the Mutons were probably in one centralized location, and the goal was not to raise an army, but just to allow them to…exist.

They were in this for the moral reasons, not the logical, and he could use that. If things went bad, he would simply arrest both of them and turn them in. The contact would at least give a starting point. There was also the possibility that he wouldn't show up, but that was where the message that he was a Zararch agent came in.

At the very minimum, it would tell the leader that the Zararch were investigating this and their days were numbered. Then there was the ultimate backup, which was the bugged crate, and he had all that data saved and ready to be turned over. But he felt he could hold that information back for now.

Alternatively, he could always go to the location he'd discovered, but that might get him killed, and definitely not make a good impression on them. Although, practically blackmailing the operatives might not either, but his choices were limited. He sincerely wished they'd had a smarter goal in mind when they'd started this, so this would be less…contentious.

"I'll let you know tomorrow," she said without any enthusiasm as she stood up.

He simply nodded, not worried about her fleeing. She still had the nanotracker on her. She would lead him to the center of this operation, one way or another.

---

Undisclosed Location – Argentina

11/16/2016 – 2:17 P.M.

Today was certainly going to be interesting. Volk once more sat across from the same suits as before, and neither of them looked especially happy. Personally, Volk felt they should be conducting these meetings in different locations, but once more he'd ensured the area was secure, and now his own forces were augmented by Asaru's aliens.

It was almost symbolic in a way, now that he thought about it. The rotting and decaying building they were in adequately represented what he felt was a deteriorating relationship with the Argentinean government, although perhaps he was just anticipating the worst.

At least Elena was still standing behind him, one hand on his shoulder.

"Volikov," the first suit said slowly, and very deliberately. "What exactly happened in your attack?"

"I had my people attack three Peacekeeper Outposts bordering Uruguay," Volk answered. "If I recall, that's what you wanted. I didn't quite expect ADVENT to respond like that, but I unfortunately can't predict the future."

"Yes…" the suit continued. "You did what we wanted. With that said, perhaps it went a little too well. ADVENT managed to turn this into a PR victory, Uruguay is out of our hands, and is little more than an ADVENT puppet now, since they've been trapped using their technology…on the condition that they can't share it with anyone."

Volk rested his hands on the table. "That," he said. "Is not my problem. You didn't specify what you wanted, so I did what I thought was needed."

"The question is how," the second suit finally spoke, almost glaring at him. "You are a professional. Your record speaks for itself. One Outpost destroyed makes sense, but three? How did you do it?"

Well, best to get it out in the open. "I received a message from an alien representative some time ago," he said, leaning back. "I met, and decided to form an alliance with them."

They must not have been expecting him to just admit it, since they visibly became nervous, while looking at him incredulously. "What were you thinking?" The first suit demanded. "Do you want ADVENT to annex us? You put the entire country at risk and didn't even ask us if that was a good idea?"

"I'm thinking long-term," Volk explained calmly. "And I didn't contact you, because it wasn't relevant. I work for you; I don't answer to you. The aliens didn't want to talk to you, they wanted to talk to me." He shrugged. "And I was curious what they had to say."

"For such a smart man, I can't believe you did this," the second suit growled. "Do you know how much danger we're in now? We've been funding an alien-backed terrorist group. What do you think ADVENT is going to do if they find out?"

"To be fair, this is your own fault," Volk pointed out. "You could have kept using me, and stayed ignorant, but you asked. I'm well aware that ADVENT would annex Argentina over this, but this ultimately comes down to what you want the future of your country to be."

Volk leaned forward, his tone turning as serious as he'd ever been. "Let's be perfectly honest with each other. There are only two sides that matter. ADVENT, and the aliens. If you think that independent countries are going to exist at the end of this, you are sadly naïve. ADVENT is just looking for an excuse to annex you. One day they will find it. And if you think the aliens will let you maintain independence…" he chuckled and shook his head.

"No," he looked back up. "At some point, you need to decide which side you will be on. I've chosen my side for now, and now you have the same choice."

"And why are the aliens better?" The second suit demanded. "Because they told you?"

Volk smiled. "Better? That's a relative word. But they've certainly been more amenable to me than ADVENT ever has. There is no such thing as a good government, the aliens will always perform their horrific experiments, and ADVENT will do the same. I'd bet you guys also have some black projects you wouldn't ever share with me. That's how the world works."

Volk exchanged glances with each of them. "With that said, I've managed to get some concessions out of them. No civilian targets, human leadership should they win, advanced weapons and tech. I'd say that they might be more humane than ADVENT at the end."

"How can you possibly think they'll keep their word?" The first suit asked. "What stops them from just betraying you when it's convenient?"

Volk smiled mirthfully. "Absolutely nothing. But I could say the same about you. What stops you from betraying me once you no longer need me? A calculated risk. Because I've figured out that the aliens need us. They don't want to conquer us, and deal with Human terrorists for hundreds of years. They need Humanity on their side, and to achieve that, it means they'll support the ones that help them."

He pulled out a dull silver pistol he'd started carrying around. "This is what they've armed us with. Plasma weapons and more. The aliens you've been seeing are not the true power of the alien army. More importantly, I think they'll keep their word because they have no reason to go through this if it were otherwise. The first time I met their leader, I was talking to an illusion the aliens created with their telepathy. There was, and still is, nothing stopping them from manipulating my mind. If that was their end goal, then why go through all this trouble?" He smiled. "It's not likely I could stop it."

"And this is your way of asking Argentina to support the aliens?" The first suit asked. "You understand what you are asking?"

"If you want to keep Argentina out of ADVENT, then yes," Volk said. "If you want, I can put you in contact with the alien I've been coordinating with. But that is up to you." Volk leaned back again, causing the chair to creak. "I've made my decision. I don't need your funding anymore. Keep me on for jobs if you want, but I'm not stopping my fight until ADVENT is beaten."

The two suits exchanged a glance. "May we take this?" the first one asked, motioning to the plasma pistol.

Volk motioned Elena to go get the black case he'd propped up against the wall when they'd arrived. "No, this is mine. But I'll give you something better. Consider it a gift from the aliens."

Elena set it on the ground, and opened the case, which displayed one of the sleek alien plasma rifles, one of the railgun-like rifles, a plasma pistol, with accompanying power cells, and a recharger for good measure. "Test them out whenever you like," Volk said as the suits stood and appraised the weapons with obvious desire. "But be careful. If ADVENT catches you with these, I don't think they will give you time to dispose of them."

He stood, and began walking to the exit. "I'll be waiting for your next contact, or if you want to discuss an alliance with the aliens. Think it over, and think about what you really want for the future."

---

The Praesidium, Situation Room – Classified Locations

11/15/2016

"The Chronicler," the Commander said to Zhang. "And there isn't any more information on him?"

The stony face of Zhang frowned, and shook his head. "No. Unsurprising if he's a psion."

"Wonderful."

The Commander didn't claim to be omniscient, but it was rare that he was caught off guard. Learning that not only had Abby, and the entire Australian Resistance, likely been compromised since the beginning, but also that it was at the hand of a completely unknown Human psion certainly qualified. If it had been an Ethereal, he could have at least understood that, but a Human?

That raised a lot of questions. If Saudia had genuinely not known one of her advisors was a psion, then who had actually been in control of EXALT during that time? No one had ever noticed any obvious tampering, but the idea that a telepath just stayed with EXALT for years and done nothing was ludicrous.

And now he wanted to single-handedly fight in Australia? No, there was something else going on here beyond a psion appearing out of nowhere. He was clearly experienced with his abilities, at least according to what Abby had added. He'd have to have Geist or Patricia examine her when she got back to ensure there wasn't any permanent tampering, but given his age, and that he was likely a telepath before the invasion, he was probably more skilled than both of them.

What confused him was that not only was he strictly maintaining independence, but that he'd waited until now to actually make himself known.

Why?

"When did you first start investigating Earth?" The Commander asked Aegis, who'd been standing silently as they'd discussed the issue.

"The first discovery was twenty years ago," Aegis answered. "However, no actual action was taken until roughly two years ago, when the first abductions began. The first scouting missions should not have contained equipment to enable psionic awakening."

The Commander pursed his lips. "So assuming that the Chronicler has been a psion for longer than the war, how was he awakened?"

"There are only two possibilities," Aegis said. "The most obvious is a catalyst; awakening through a psionic object or device. It is perhaps possible he was involved in a high-stress situation that awakened his abilities…but in that case, I suspect there would be more psions."

The Commander walked around the dark holotable, powered off, thinking. "Having someone like that loose is dangerous. At the very least we need to interrogate him to ensure he isn't a threat. He's possibly been using EXALT the entire time, or worse has been influencing other powerful people for longer. I don't trust him."

"Aside from a coordinated operation, I don't know what we can do," Zhang cautioned, crossing his arms. "He's not hostile…for now…and until that changes, I don't think we can justify spending time solving this mystery. Whenever he attacks Sydney, that will give Abby something to report. But I only think keeping an eye on him is recommended. No more than that."

"At minimum," the Commander scowled. "But this implies that there are potentially other aliens that have been here before the Collective. Aegis, how sure are you that these intra-galactic species aren't exploring on their own?"

"Because if they were, we would have detected them," Aegis said immediately, the silver helm looking down at him. "It is possible, of course, that they sent probes that crashed on your planet, but the issue is that none of the species are psionic." His voice turned contemplative. "With that said, this is a puzzle I wish to solve. If you wish, I can go examine him and determine the answer to this, since I doubt he will give his secrets willingly."

"Maybe once things calm down," the Commander picked up a tablet resting on the corner of the holotable. "ADVENT is getting ready to fully take back America, the Collective will likely launch another attack soon, and maybe the Chronicler will get himself killed and solve this problem completely. Zhang has a good point. Until we have a good reason to devote time to him, we just make sure he's staying out of trouble and focusing on more important things."

"Speaking of which," Zhang interjected. "The PRIEST Division has officially been established. Right now they only have military and training branches utilized, but they have three more they will begin using upon completion of the Manchurian Project."

"We should focus on getting that done," the Commander nodded. "That incident with the Imperator was a wakeup call. We can't have our psions going rogue or turning into double agents. Anti-psionics should be prioritized."

"You may wish to update Vahlen on that," Aegis said. "However, I would encourage her not to be…overzealous in her efforts. One certain project she is working on is…disquieting."

The Commander and Zhang exchanged an ironic look. Knowing Vahlen, that could mean a number of different things. She hadn't had 'benign' projects for some time, or at least none a normal person would consider such. "You'll have to be more specific," the Commander said, raising an eyebrow.

"The one with the…" Aegis paused, as if recalling. "Octopus. The unnatural multi-limbed creature."

First jellyfish, now octopi. The Commander wasn't sure what project that was, but given how Aegis didn't seem to like anti-psionics research in general, he was taking it with a grain of salt. She was probably looking at it for its regenerative aspects or something similar; he couldn't see the immediate connection to psionics.

Regardless, he certainly wasn't going to restrain her just because she made Aegis uncomfortable.

Who would have thought one, though admittedly brilliant, Human woman would be able to get such a reaction from a being who could shield entire planets and dominate minds with his psionic abilities?

He would have to tell her that later, she'd find it funny.

"The PRIEST Division will likely be our greatest weapon for a long time," Zhang said thoughtfully. "Smart that ADVENT wants to deploy it, and press our advantage before the next alien attack."

"It'll come down to the plan," the Commander said, although he nodded. "But I expect that it will be suitably comprehensive. Commander Christiaens is good at that, at least."

"Indeed," Zhang looked up at Aegis with an amused smirk. "I suppose you'll refrain from participating as well."

"There is little need," Aegis stated immediately. "I will repeat again that when the time is right, I will help. But not before then."

The Commander sincerely hoped that wouldn't be tested for some time, but he felt that with each advance ADVENT made, that day was coming faster and faster.

---

The Hall of Steel, Blacksite 05 – Unknown

11/16/2016 - ?

The Battlemaster wondered at times if Fectorian was overly paranoid. Approaching his Blacksite in the Cultro, he was always first struck by just how large the space station really was. A Gateway would have been preferable, but Fectorian didn't have any connected to the network due to security concerns, although the Battlemaster doubted that he couldn't have found some way to protect himself.

The station didn't look like a secretive Blacksite, but something close to a shipyard. It was segmented into clear levels, with a central square pillar and square blocks for each of the floors, all the size of a small city. On the third level there was an extension that was a full shipyard, which could be adjusted to create anything from small fighters to capital ships.

Fectorian was almost a military power unto himself, and no one had any idea. The entire solar system was augmented and trapped by his fleet and drones. Each planet was in the process of being mined for resources with his extensive automated forces, which was likely why he'd chosen a barren system to begin with.

Further small sections extended from various floors, but otherwise weren't nearly as eye-catching as the shipyards, but what also soon became apparent were the extensive arrays of defenses on the station itself. Plasma, beam, magnetic, and since the Battlemaster genuinely didn't recognize some of the weapons, he assumed Fectorian was actually incorporating Sovereign tech into his designs.

Good. More Ethereals needed to start doing that.

Behind the station was the first project he had undertaken upon the completion of the Hall of Steel: The Star Harvester, a vast collections of complicated rings, automated drones, and other small structures around the star of the system, which continuously harvested energy from it. As a result, Fectorian ended up with more energy than he knew what to do with, and stored his stockpile on one of the planets, and gave as much as was needed whenever the Collective asked.

As the project had only been completed recently, the Battlemaster had discussed developing these in other controlled systems, but now he didn't expect that to happen until the Human matter was dealt with. The Human Solar System might be a good place for one, since it would take an extensive amount of energy to fully modernize it.

"Battlemaster, please approach Hangar level 2. Fectorian is expecting you." The automated voice cut out, and the Battlemaster directed his ship towards the appropriate level. He knew the Blacksite was run by a machine intelligence Fectorian had developed, and would have expected by now it would figure out that he knew the way.

And that he'd just been here several days ago.

A few minutes later, he finally landed the ship and stepped outside into the Hangar. Fectorian was almost as much of a showman as Quisilia sometimes, since there was no reason to have entire rows of his soldiers in every Hangar. All were organized according to species and race. They were always the lowest version possible, since Fectorian saved his actual masterpieces for his private use, and rarely showed them to anyone.

In general, the augmented rows of Vitakara, Mutons, and Sectoids weren't ultimately much different than normal. Ever since the creation of the Star Harvester, Fectorian had taken that as his emblem and all of his soldiers had the outline of the rings around a sphere on their shoulders, or on other pieces of cybernetics.

Most had exclusively cybernetic limbs, with some having one or two original ones. Eyes were usually replaced with mechanical alternates, and each soldier had an implant that covered the entire spine and ended at the base of the brain, further enhancing their abilities. The soldiers stood as still as statues as he exited, except for one…Human…who approached him.

This was new.

It was a female, and for one, didn't look augmented in any way. Long black hair, porcelain skin and a face Human males would likely describe as 'attractive'. She was clothed in the armored harness Fectorian's workers wore, a mixture of black sleeves, gloves, silver armor plates, and grey harnesses which held a collection of tools and equipment. "Battlemaster," she greeted emotionlessly, but giving him a smile. "Follow me."

Even her voice didn't have the artificial tinge the rest of his army had. Curious. He knew Fectorian was experimenting on Humans, but not to such an extent. The modifications were likely internal then. Fectorian didn't like making replicas, so he doubted that this was a purely automated machine that just looked like a Human.

They reached the end of the room, and the woman pressed a button which opened the door and they stepped inside a steel box. On the inside, the woman then entered some information into the panel, and the door shut. Fectorian had designed the station so that as little time was wasted as possible, which meant that the station was partitioned into hundreds of separate sections, all of which could be reached by a magnetic rail system, which combined with an internal Gateway system to allow anyone to reach any part of the station in seconds.

So it was not even half a minute later when the box transport stopped, opened the door and they were in Fectorian's personal lab. Or one of them, at least. He had at least twelve, which he used for different kinds of experiments and fields. This was clearly one devoted to alien autopsy and scanning, as there were stacks of aliens in stasis, in various states of health. All of them were faced with life-ending injuries, and had been sent to him as a result.

Some would become part of his army, others would simply die, and he would recycle them. The room was exceptionally clean, as metallic drones scrubbed the steel floor continuously, and turned whatever materials and waste they picked up into more resources. There were several complex scanning machines on the left side of the room, and on the right were medical machines with suites of nanomachines and medical drones which would generally ensure that the subjects didn't die before Fectorian got to them.

In the center was Fectorian's main suite of cybernetic enhancement tools. There was a main table for holding the being in place, with multiple drones for lighting, delicate tasks, and providing more tools. Monitors and consoles were to the sides, displaying vitals and additional medical information. And Fectorian was there himself, though for once not working on some Vitakara or Muton.

It appeared that he wasn't in his full armored suit this time, and had his 'engineer' suit on. Fectorian seemed to never decide what to wear when they met. As he was extensively modified, with his two lower arms being cybernetic replacements, as were both of his legs, and even his unmodified arms had ports to plug enlarged cybernetic limbs into them. He wore no cloth or soft material of any kind, but different types of metal plating that always changed in complexity.

The back of the armor had an attachment that acted as yet another set of small spindly limbs which could angle in front of his body, and could be used for pinpoint manipulation, holding trays of small tools, or laser cutting. The eyes were mechanical with a purple shining iris, and the helmet was simply an extension of his armor, covering his mouth and head, while leaving the eyes exposed, though there were panels built in that shut if he was in substantial danger.

Still, he only stood close to nine feet. His other suit did allow him to stand as tall as the Battlemaster himself, but it was mainly for combat, or so Fectorian said.

"Good, you came at the right time," Fectorian greeted, his voice lacking the layered vocals of other Ethereals, and having a metallic tinge instead. "How do you like her?"

The Battlemaster looked at the Human who walked a few feet past him, and turned around. "I don't know what you did," he said, not entirely interested. "She was efficient."

"Hm, you didn't notice anything?" Fectorian asked, walking over to him, appraising the woman. "Excellent. That was the point. I'll consider this a success." He pressed a button on his wrist and the woman started changing. Her skin dissolved before him, the hair receded and even the clothes melted away as if on fire.

What remained was a metallic humanoid figure with dark grey metal limbs, with noticeable grooves and lines on them. Only the teeth actually remained white. Fectorian walked over to her and pressed several buttons which made the machine's jaw drop open on its hinge, and the upper skull slide away to reveal the inner brain.

"A replica," the Battlemaster slowly nodded, looking inside as the 'brain' which was a grey box with wires and LED lights in it. "I thought you disliked those?"

"A prototype, as I said," Fectorian explained, reverting the replica to a normal state, with the jaw and head back in place. "I first needed to see if I could create a passable replica, and I appear to have succeeded here. Furthermore, I can control the entire physical appearance of the replica itself."

The replica suddenly grew new skin, hair and clothes, and the Battlemaster was now staring at a dark-skinned woman with curly white hair, with severe burns on the left side of her face. "Nanites are useful machines," Fectorian said with satisfaction. "However, I know you didn't come to see my projects, but rest assured I will have much to show you in the future."

He motioned him to follow and the Battlemaster did. "It was an interesting challenge you posed," Fectorian commented. "But with what you provided, I was able to fulfill what you want. Your arm is fully healed, correct?"

"Yes," the Battlemaster had been forced to have Sana repair the damage, but it was a minor injury at worst. "But I would prefer not to have that happen again."

They then stepped in front of a small pedestal which Fectorian was proudly displaying the request the Battlemaster had given him shortly after the battle: A new and improved suit of armor. The basic design was almost entirely the same, but there were several obvious differences. The first was that the armor was lined with small rods which were positioned at an upwards angle all the way down the torso. The rods then curled to the back, and connected to an armored cylinder close to the back of the neck.

The arms and legs also had rods lining them, four in total, spaced evenly apart and growing connected into one towards the torso itself, and then also connected to the cylinder on the back. The fingers of the gauntlets were now tipped with the rods as well, but also had a point which the Battlemaster guessed could be retracted into the gauntlet itself.

"One electricity-proof set of armor, as requested," Fectorian stated with a flourish. "I appreciate you gathering the materials needed, and finally providing the schematics for your Battlemaster equipment. Unfortunate your division was so secretive, since there were many improvements to be made in the designs, but I do understand now."

The Battlemaster didn't comment. Truthfully, he'd never expected his armor to fail him, and there had been no reason to disclose the secrets of the Battlemasters. However, it was time to move past that and Fectorian was one who could be trusted with them. It wasn't as though he could simply make more later.

"And I assume you have tested this extensively?" He asked.

"You know me better than to ask," Fectorian dismissed. "Yes, of course I did. And if XCOM tries to electrocute you again, every blast will simply gather the energy into a battery of my own design. Once it becomes powerful enough, you can discharge it back at them. Fitting, I think." He pointed to the armor. "Electricity follows the path of least resistance, so there are plenty of more conductible metals to attract a lightning bolt."

"I doubt that's enough to absorb the entire blast," the Battlemaster said skeptically.

"In the event where that is likely, I have lined the internal suit with additional non-conductive materials," Fectorian continued. "And there is an additional layer of nanites between that, which are specifically designed to absorb bursts of electricity. You will not be harmed by lightning while wearing this, and you will retain the durability of the armor you wear now."

The Battlemaster looked at the suit. At least it looked similar, but it was still a change he wasn't entirely comfortable with. Still, he had to adapt and being immune to electricity attacks was a major advantage, especially if XCOM kept using those weapons. He had no reason to doubt Fectorian, but would definitely gain some practice before the next attack.

"Excellent work," the Battlemaster nodded. "And the other project?"

"Ah, simple," Fectorian stated absentmindedly. "A sensor upgrade is not difficult, and it was quite needed. You needn't fear being tricked by fake nuclear signals. We will know if they are actually being used, or in the vicinity."

That was perhaps even better news. "I believe at some point I will wish to use your own forces in battle," the Battlemaster said. "I assume you would be able to spare some?"

"Finally," Fectorian said, spinning around and not waiting for him to follow. "As powerful as my army is, it is rather pointless with nothing to do. It would be good to actually gather usable combat data. But don't use my basic units. I have plenty more advanced models that need field testing, and a few more I am working on."

They reached his table again, and Fectorian activated a holodisplay. "Units which…address key weaknesses in our forces. If the Humans wish to escalate this conflict, I am more than happy to test their limits."

The Battlemaster looked over the proposed units, along with the accompanying project names. The ARCHON Project was certainly in response to the Archangels, while the REPLICA Project was definitely for more clandestine operations. It was clear what the Replica was, as Fectorian had demonstrated.

The SPECTRE Project appeared to be more of a doomsday weapon, one which could easily backfire, but Fectorian was not one for making mistakes. "How close are these to completion?" He asked.

"The base goals of the SPECTRE and REPLICA are essentially done," Fectorian said. "Sadly, ARCHON is in the beginning stages, but I will endeavor to finish it if it is needed."

"Do that," the Battlemaster said thoughtfully. "I have other uses for what remains."

---

Situation Room, the Citadel – United States of America

11/16/2016 – 4:52 P.M.

It didn't feel too long since the last meeting, since the first counterattack. Quite a bit had happened, and ADVENT apparently wanted to push this advantage, since the Collective would almost undoubtedly try and correct their mistakes. The Commander was joined by Patricia and Zhang, for once none of them in armor, just standard fatigues because as the Commander had understood it, this was just a planning meeting, not something that would be carried out right away.

They were all familiar with the routine now, gathered around the holotable as they waited for Laura to begin her presentation. Beside her were Weekes and Elizabeth, with Saudia and Mercado at the end of the table, and opposite her was a new addition to the leadership.

Finn Gerstner, Vicar General of the newly launched PRIEST Division Military Branch was almost the perfect poster child for the program. The Swiss man had been an extremely popular government official, and had been one of the largest supporters and recruiters of ADVENT, and had joined the PRIEST Program once launched, and had encouraged others to follow suit.

It turned out that he was one of the six Leviathan-class Psions ADVENT had, and in the initial training he'd proven an excellent leader, as well as quickly grasping the basics of psionic theory fast. Vicar General had been deemed the best place for him, especially with his Offensive psionic affinity. He also stood out because the PRIEST attire was much different than standard ADVENT military fatigues.

In addition to the…interesting designation of Vicar General, a title clearly born of old religious titles, the PRIEST Division had also decided to fully embrace the pseudo-religious elements the name entailed. Their non-combat uniforms were a white-silver vest and pants, with the title and affinity symbol on their upper chest, the golden ADVENT logo was embroidered on the shoulders, and there was a short ceremonial white shoulder cape similar to the Officers. They wore no gloves or gauntlets, nor had any sort of self-defense weaponry, but their psionics clearly made up for that.

The translucent quality of his white skin, and golden-rimmed blue eyes also indicated his extensive genetic modification, which the Commander assumed was fairly standard for the PRIESTs. Commander Christiaens cleared her throat, and began speaking as the holotable lit up with a map of the Western United States.

"Thank you all for being here. Since we are making the final preparations, it's time everyone be brought up to speed," she looked up, briefly glancing at all of them as she continued. "While we made a lot of progress in retaking America, much of that can be attributed to the Collective underestimating us. We caught them flatfooted, and we can't assume they won't try and make adjustments against future operations."

She rested her hands on the holotable. "Simply put, we have an extremely limited window to act before the advantage we have is lost. We have the Shieldbearers, SHIVs, MDUs, XCOM has the Archangels, and we now have our PRIESTs. The Collective does not have any answers right now, and we need to press that. This opportunity will pass before too long, so over the past couple weeks, I've been working with the entirety of the military to devise a plan to take back the rest of the United States and push the aliens back to square one."

The states of Nevada, California, and Hawaii lit up in red. "This will consist of two operations," Laura continued. "Operation Sherman, which will take back the United States mainland, and Operation Kamehameha, for reclaiming Hawaii." She manipulated the focus of the holotable, and the holotable zoomed to focus on Hawaii.

"Operation Kamehameha will initially serve as a distraction to Operation Sherman," Laura continued. "Over the past weeks we have been massing our naval forces to the Bering Sea, off the coast of Russia, and off the Pacific coast of Mexico. ADVENT Intelligence has determined that the islands are heavily fortified, but can be retaken with a dedicated attack."

"What forces have been identified?" The Commander asked.

"Vitakara, primarily Vitakarians and Cobrarians," Laura answered immediately. "This is in addition to a strong Muton presence, and they suspect there is a Sargon in charge of the islands. Luckily, the force is primarily infantry, although there is a strong automated line of turrets and point-laser defense systems. But no naval forces."

"Andromedons?" Saudia asked.

"None that we have located," Laura responded. "There are a minimum of twelve Gateways spread out through the islands, which will allow them immediate reinforcements, but they also lack any air support."

"Which might be a problem," Weekes pointed out. "While I know our carriers have Ravens…"

"Which is why Operation Kraken will go into effect here," Laura countered, looking at all of them. "For those who are not aware, that is our operation using our extensive submarine forces to deny air assets. Which essentially means once we detect UFOs approaching, they surface and fire missiles into the air. Although in this case, they would be armed with both conventional and nuclear weapons."

Finn raised a hand. "Excuse me Commander, isn't that a…well, bad idea?"

"Not as bad as you think," Laura reassured him. "Nuclear weapons are indeed devastating on land, but in the atmosphere the radiation is greatly reduced, or negated entirely. Using them at a high enough altitude will prevent the ensuing blast and EMP from affecting ground forces. While we should be hesitant using them on land, there is little reason to refrain from using them in the air, and the blast will remove any threat the Collective sends to reinforce Hawaii."

Several submarine figures appeared on the holomap. "Submarines will be deployed around the island six hours before the operation commences and prepare their payloads. There will be two paths of attack, from Russia, and from Mexico, hitting the islands of Kauai and Hawai'i respectively."

"Hawai'i will be a long one," Weekes commented. "Insertion will be bloody."

"Not if done correctly," Laura stated. "We will use a combined force of Lancers, Shieldbearers, and PRIESTs for the initial invasion, while our naval forces provide long-range bombardment on all the islands. Upon establishing a beachhead, teams of Engineers will establish Gateways and bring in reinforcements from our more secure locations in the Eastern United States, Russia, and India."

"Good idea," the Commander nodded. "But the Gateways will pose a target."

"They will, but they will also be transported in pieces to be assembled," Laura answered. "Our teams are able to get a segmented Gateway working in under ten minutes. Our initial teams can hold out long enough for that. Then we will begin taking the islands, moving to the next one once the current one is taken. Portable artillery will be established to fire at nearby islands as well, if applicable."

"This will certainly get their attention," Saudia commented. "They are definitely not going to just ignore this."

"That's what we're hoping for, hence the perhaps disproportionate force," Laura clarified. "Once we know we have their attention, we launch Operation Sherman, and what I consider the more important one."

The holotable shifted to the United States again. "Their only territory are outpost bases in Nevada and most of California," Laura continued. "They have been heavily fortified, but they are vulnerable to a sudden, blanket, and surprise attack. And they have made one critical weakness in their defenses."

Finn raised an eyebrow. "Explain?"

Laura gave a grim smile. "They haven't secured the rail system. There are rail tracks that go straight into every city in California. I don't know if this is an oversight, or they don't know how dangerous that is. But this is what we've been working towards, to exploit this before they figure it out."

The map disappeared, and in its place appeared a train, but not a regular one. This one had been reinforced with alloys, making the carts protected boxes, and on the top were AA, laser, and various other kinds of weaponry. The main engine was similarly protected, and the back car was simply carrying a tank.

"This is the converted ADVENT Battle Train," Laura explained. "There are many countries that have extensive rail networks, and that is something we can't forget. Europe, South Korea, and America all have them, and all will likely become battlegrounds in the future."

"This has been a project we've been working on for some time," Mercado said, speaking for the first time. "Prototypes were tested and constructed in Russia, which involved experiments with molten salt reactors, and more recently, elerium generators to vastly improve its power output. We added various turrets and armoring to allow it to survive sustained barrages, but it is an extremely fast and devastating method of quickly striking targets."

"Once tests were conducted successfully, we've been converting trains into this in the Eastern United States, and more recently Canada and Mexico," Laura continued. "This is to throw off any spies watching us. The Battle Trains will be packed with soldiers, vehicles, equipment, and Gateways and hit the major cities."

"All of them?" Saudia asked with some skepticism. "Do we have that many?"

"We have plenty," Laura reassured her. "And not all of them will be Battle Trains. We've also been mocking up some suicide trains, old ones, which will contain MOAB explosive devices, and several deployed per identified alien stronghold in the smaller cities will take out substantial numbers, and this done in coordination will cause chaos in their communications."

"So for the main attacks, what is your plan?" The Commander asked.

"Battle Trains with primarily Lancers, MDUs, and PRIESTs will make up the first wave, along with armor units," Laura said, returning to the map with the rails highlighted in red, going to the major California cities. "The Trains will establish themselves to provide supporting fire as the rest of the forces establish beachheads. Several railroads will be left unoccupied to allow for Suicide Trains to go into the heart of their cities and detonate. Once they are fully occupied, the second waves will come."

Holographic planes appeared over the cities. "At this time will we be deploying the second wave of Battle Trains, with primarily infantry reinforcements, in addition to those coming through the Gateways, and begin airdropping additional vehicles, Lancers, Shieldbearers, and conducting airstrikes on marked targets."

She highlighted the ocean around California. "Operation Kraken will also be applied along the West Coast. While this might not completely negate air support, it will hinder it. With the second waves in, the general advance for the rest of our forces will commence, and we should have hopefully overwhelmed the aliens enough to take back California and Nevada before they realize what is happening."

The Commander was impressed with the whole plan. There was just something he needed to bring up. "An attack this scale will warrant a reprisal, not just a defense," he pointed out. "We'll need to be prepared."

"That's the question," Laura nodded gravely. "Theoretically, they could attack anywhere. I've ordered South Korea receive extra reinforcements, and it's also possible that Mexico or Canada will be attacked, Canada more so since there is a small alien presence in Alaska."

"And Caelior or the Battlemaster could show up," Weekes added. "Which our forces can't really stop."

"Leave the Ethereals to us," the Commander said. "If you do encounter them…have your forces immediately pull back and let us handle them. We almost killed the Battlemaster once. We can do it again."

"At the end, what I hope we achieve is a reclaimed America," Laura finished. "For once, I believe we have the advantage here. Not just in strategy, but also in psionics. If this goes well, they will only really have Australia, most of the Oceanic nations, and Japan."

"Indeed," Saudia nodded, looking over to her. "When will this be launched?"

"Within the next week," Laura said. "We need enough trains ready, and in several days we'll have a critical mass of PRIESTs ready to go. If the aliens launch an attack somewhere else…we can launch it and at minimum draw their attention."

"XCOM will be ready to provide support wherever you need," the Commander said. "I'll begin preparing squads whenever you need them."

"Appreciated, Commander," she inclined her head. "Hopefully we'll be enjoying another victory soon."

"Indeed," he smiled grimly. "The aliens being forced to retreat would certainly be a nice change of pace."

---

Mars Observation Station, Mars Orbit – Solar System

11/17/2016 – 1:14 A.M.

ADVENT was doing something, and Ravarian didn't like how it looked at all. The holographic report in front of him didn't assuage that feeling, and the fact that the Battlemaster was standing in front of him waiting for him to say something didn't make him feel better either. "When are you planning to launch the attack on Korea?" He asked, shutting off the projector in his palm.

"Within days," the Battlemaster answered. "I want an accurate assessment of ADVENT's forces. Your agents will determine the speed of how soon we deploy."

"They will have that to you within two days," Ravarian said, knowing that would be more than enough time. "However…ADVENT is clearly preparing for something. Likely our attack, but we're not completely sure what it is."

The Battlemaster looked down at him. "What do you have?"

"A name," Ravarian said. "PRIEST. We suspect it has something to do with psionics, and if so…there is a high possibility that ADVENT is going to begin fielding psionic soldiers in the future, if they don't have some already prepared. Their naval forces have also been rapidly moving through the pacific."

"Unsurprising," the Battlemaster said. "Utilizing the psionic potential within their species was inevitable. I will have to factor this in. The naval forces either imply an attack in America, or more likely, preparation to defend Korea. Alternately, they could be preparing to strike us in Australia or Japan when we don't expect it."

"Should we deploy some Andromedon Aquatic Forces?" Ravarian asked.

"No, not yet," the Battlemaster dismissed, raising a hand. "Let us see what they do first. It is more beneficial for the moment for ADVENT to make a move, if they can. They believe they have an advantage, and they will likely wish to exploit it since they know it won't last forever."

Ravarian agreed, which was why he wasn't entirely comfortable with doing nothing until ADVENT acted. "The defenses we've recorded for Korea are more extensive than we expected. I'm not certain our forces are adequately prepared for taking the cities. ADVENT has been smart in constructing their defenses."

"I am aware," the Battlemaster nodded. "But they can't win a war of attrition. And their attempt at turning our attacks into sieges will likely fail. Trenches are an interesting idea, but it will be a temporary issue at best."

Ravarian didn't quite know if he should politely disagree. He'd initially been skeptical when he'd seen the first of the new ADVENT defenses. The towers were impressive, but 'Trench Warfare' as the Humans called it was an alien concept. However, after performing some research, he was of the opinion that it was tactically a very smart move, especially since ADVENT had clearly worked to negate the disadvantages of the tactic.

And it made him acutely aware of the fact that the Collective didn't exactly have a powerful artillery unit. Or artillery at all. The Sectopods had a limited range, but the military was primarily composed of infantry units. Their spacecraft was an advantage, but everything he'd read indicated that attempting to cross the famed 'no-man's land' was not only questionable, it was suicidal.

ADVENT was on an even technological level, weapon wise, and he had the vision of a frontal charge leading to ADVENT tearing them apart.

That wouldn't do.

"With respect, Battlemaster, that I do not believe is accurate," the Battlemaster looked over to him, Ravarian swallowed, and continued. "Utilizing trenches has, historically for Humans, been devastating to infantry forces. It wasn't as effective against vehicles, but still dangerous. The Collective is primarily composed of infantry, and an open area with no cover is not optimal ground for engaging in combat."

The Battlemaster looked at him for a few moments. "Noted, Zar'Chon. I will keep that in mind. Is there anything else?"

Ravarian shook his head. "Nothing major. ADVENT has begun arming their trains of all things. Perhaps they think we'll be attacking their supply lines, but otherwise it doesn't make sense."

"ADVENT doesn't do something without a reason," the Battlemaster mused, turning away. "Ensure that your agents have a comprehensive report. I do not want ADVENT to become comfortable, nor get any ideas."

"Yes, Battlemaster," Ravarian confirmed. "It will be done soon."

---

Abuja – Nigeria

11/17/2017 – 12:28 P.M.

The alien had said he would come to her, and that it would be soon. Betos didn't know when or how, but she had her soldiers on the lookout for anyone suspicious. So for now she just stood leaning against the outside of her refitted command center, thinking on what the implications of this would be.

Getting the attention of the aliens was not something she had expected. Not yet at least, it would have come in the future, but not for a long time yet. They would still have ADVENT to contend with, and SAS was relatively small when compared to the larger war. She hadn't really thought which side she really fell on, although right now the answer was definitively neither.

ADVENT she would not support, but that didn't mean that the aliens would be any better. They wouldn't be fighting if they were intent on actual peace, although given the leadership of ADVENT, perhaps they didn't want that to begin with. The largest problem was that she didn't know much about the aliens to begin with. She hadn't fought them, or ever seen a live one.

Videos, briefings, and images yes, but all of those were from ADVENT. They listed appearance, combat abilities, strengths, and weaknesses. Not really anything about their motivations, goals, or organization, aside from 'kill the Humans.'

She snorted.

No, at the very least there was more to the aliens than war. She doubted a culture could be sustained by such to begin with, but the question was what said culture entailed. They could be just as bad, if not worse, than ADVENT. But she didn't know, and hopefully this Macula would clarify some for her.

If there was one thing she was apprehensive about, it was that this was an Ethereal, and they were rather…notorious. First the vaunted Battlemaster, and the other one, Caelior. Both could single-handedly take on entire armies and win. Could all of them do that? And they were all psionic as far as she knew, so she was at risk of being mind-controlled.

The issue was now that it didn't really matter what she wanted. Even if she refused, they could control her mind. But they'd found her without any effort on her part, so they intended for her to have some role, and she doubted that it needed to be voluntary.

"It doesn't," the layered voice of Macula said beside her. "But there is little of value in that."

Betos jumped and had her pistol in her hand the moment the Ethereal began speaking, but she wasn't able to do anything as it was yanked out of her hand and hovered in front of the raised palm of the alien.

The Ethereal was much more intimidating in person. He towered over her, at least three meters or more, his attire a mixture of a silver armor that protected his legs, arms and chest, with some kind of blue cloth or weave underneath it. There was also a cape of the same color that fell from his shoulders, and attached to it was an obscuring hood that shadowed his entire face, save for the glowing orange orbs within it; eyes most likely.

She swallowed.

"No reason to be alarmed," he said, orienting his palm horizontally and the pistol floated back to her, which she took. "If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead already."

"I expected you to make an announcement, not appear out of nowhere," Betos said, holstering her weapon. "Apologies, Ethereal Macula."

"Accepted, Lady Betos," he said, appearing to nod slightly. "Now, I believe we have some things to discuss."

Betos looked at the door, now realizing that the height of the alien might be an issue. "The office may be somewhat…confined."

"Then we walk," Macula said.

Betos glanced around, actually surprised that no one had stumbled upon them yet. "Someone may see you-"

"No," Macula raised the opposite upper hand. "They will not. I have made sure of that. Walk with me, Lady Betos, there is something I believe you should see." He stepped into the street, and Betos followed, becoming more concerned at the ominous words. The implications were disconcerting at best, and terrifying at worst.

Would an Ethereal really kill her soldiers to make a point? Especially if he wanted an alliance?

They rounded a corner and she suddenly saw what he was talking about. It was filled with soldiers, sitting around, talking with each other, or in formation. It was something completely normal, except for one minor detail.

All of them were completely frozen in place.

Dead silence filled the area, aside from the steps she and Macula made as they walked forward. It was bizarre. They appeared alive, and she did note they were still breathing, but otherwise they didn't seem to register anything else. She stood in front of one of her soldiers, one who was walking, and got no acknowledgement.

"What did you do to them?" She asked slowly.

"Simply altered their perception," Macula said, standing behind her. "The measurement of time is a curious subject. It cannot be truly stopped, and controlling it is little more than a fringe theory, but what can be controlled is one's perception of it." He motioned to the frozen crowd. "They do not realize anything. Their minds are in the moment, unable to move forward. Should I release them, they will not be aware of any difference initially. Frozen in this moment, they are blind to the world around them."

Betos blinked. "What about their bodies? Their thoughts?"

"Their bodies function, but they will not realize or feel anything until their minds are released," Macula explained. "They could starve, die, burn, and they would not react or feel. Their thoughts are frozen in the moment they were stopped. Painless; elegant; something I have mastered over decades. An army is useless if their minds can simply be trapped in the present."

So this was a demonstration of his power. Fine, though for what end she could only guess at. "I assume you have a point to this?" She asked.

"Of course," he said, walking around to face her directly, amusement permeating his voice; amusement and confidence. She could barely look into the glowing eyes; she was not easily intimidated, but Macula was an exception. "I know what you fear. You are no fool. You know ADVENT will not ignore your alliance forever, and you will eventually be crushed. You know your influence over the SAS is limited, and it is becoming what you fled in the first place. You have lost your power, if you had any to begin with."

He paused. "But you have something useful to me. You have a vision of your ambitions. And unlike many, you follow this vision even if it leads to undesired results. You have risked your life, and that of your friends, and in doing so, you managed to begin the reformation of this continent. The men you allied yourself with are self-serving and dangerous, more concerned with their own power than the future. They cannot see beyond their settled scores and conquests. ADVENT is propaganda, the aliens don't exist, and their enemies are ripe for defeating."

The Ethereal sounded like he chuckled, a low rumble. "You value honesty, Lady Betos, so I will comply. I care little for your species. The majority are not worth my time, and there are greater concerns in this galaxy. Yet if I must intervene, I will shape your people into something acceptable. But though I have the vision, I am not human. You have vision, and you are. In some ways, our goals are aligned."

"I think," Betos said slowly. "That what we have in mind for my species would be radically different."

"Are they?" He asked, almost a hiss. "I desire a species purged of the corruption and filth that permeate your kind, one that is incapable of betraying our Collective, and one trained and prepared for the wars to come." He inhaled. "There are wars coming, Lady Betos, ones far larger and greater than this one ADVENT wages. The other species are flawed, shaped by forces beyond our control and our leaders lack the resolve to force change. Humans have the potential to be uplifted correctly, controlled and freed from the weaknesses of the lesser species. That is what I wish from your species."

He motioned to her. "The details of how that is accomplished…that is where you come in. Governance, laws, cultures; these concepts I have little interest in, much less building from nothing. You do however, or you know who you would need. That is what I offer you, Lady Betos, a chance to complete my vision, and reforge your species as you envision it. And with my support, you have no fear of being stopped."

His arm suddenly lashed out to the side, and a thin obsidian dagger flew into a nearby man, talking with one of her soldiers. It buried itself in his throat, yet his expression didn't change as the blood slowly seeped out of his neck. "What-" Betos began, as Macula telekinetically pulled the dagger back, and blood began pouring out, soaking his shirt in it, while his expression stayed the same.

"An ADVENT spy," Macula explained. "One sent to watch you. As we speak my own operatives are purging the ring of spies ADVENT has embedded within the SAS and will establish means to ensure this does not happen again. You would be assassinated if ADVENT believed you posed a threat, and continuing on your path, you would be."

The body suddenly collapsed to the ground, as the man died, the same expression on his face. "I can protect you against ADVENT, the men you have allied yourselves with, and anyone else," Macula continued. "Work to achieve my vision, and none will be able to stop you. You have wished to make a difference your entire life. There is no better opportunity than now."

Betos thought for a moment. The saying "If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is" came to mind. But at the same time…any alien that could do…that…could be a powerful ally. She wasn't sure if his ultimate goals were something she wanted to accomplish, but if he did allow her to have a hand in shaping the future, could she really afford to pass it up?

At the very least, it couldn't hurt, and if Macula was telling the truth…

Perhaps she could do things the right way. No more worrying about corruption, power plays, or the things that had plagued humanity since the beginning to time.

She met his burning eyes. "Very well," she said. "I accept. Where do you want to start?"

---

Unknown – Desolan

11/18/2016

Nartha felt that he was in a decent enough position. He was still armed, the dead man's switch was working which would immediately send everything to the Zararch if he unexpectedly died as had been clearly pointed out to Merina's contact, which was a male Vitakarian who hadn't exactly been pleased to meet him, but hadn't wasted his time and simply gestured to follow him.

He'd then been directed to a Desolan-issue speeder, which all of them had climbed in and they'd shot off beyond the War Camps. It wasn't too unusual, since there were speeder patrols every so often and there were cases where various officers used them to travel between War Camps. Nartha wasn't relying on memory to get back, since he wasn't familiar enough with the geography to have a chance to begin with.

Things had started to become more interesting when they'd entered one of the mountains and had gone progressively deeper. There were no light sources other than the speeder itself, and Nartha couldn't help but feel slightly nervous since the speed hadn't been reduced, which made him concerned that they would suddenly crash into the stone walls.

That would be anticlimactic.

"No wonder no one has found you," Nartha muttered. "Everyone who followed would die."

"Yes," the driver said without hesitation. "They would."

No further elaboration was given, so Nartha decided to stay quiet for the time. All he really knew was that he'd be meeting the leader, and they weren't planning on killing him. Fair enough, since he wasn't planning on doing anything like that either. He hadn't pressed for details, knowing he'd likely get that eventually, and questions would likely only make Merina's contact even more suspicious of him.

After some time, they shot into an illuminated and open area deep within the mountain. Nartha blinked to adjust to the sudden light, and he then got his first good look at the…base? Sanctuary? He wasn't sure what to call it, aside from that the area was massive and had to have been at least as large as a War Camp.

But it was noticeably different in several ways. There were waterfalls with a steady stream coming from several points, and small canals had been dug creating some variety to the brown dirt, which culminated in a central lake-like depression. There were small square houses built from clearly flimsy material, but given that there were zero elements to worry about, it was competent enough.

He looked up at the light sources, and they were indeed artificial, both hanging from the angled mountain roof, and built into the stone itself. The illumination was extensive, and was just as bright and clear as if it had come from a sun. But what truly captured his attention were the hundreds of Mutons that occupied the area.

He was so used to seeing them in armor that it was…startling to see them wearing primarily cloth coverings and garments the Vitakara normally wore. What few of them did have armor, it wasn't the bulky plating, but maybe a few alloys woven into regular garments, with some kind of language written on them.

The Mutons themselves were physically different than the ones in the War Camps. The males were not as stocky or tall, even if they would outmass a base Human or Vitakarian. The females were the most notably different, as they were much smaller, and ended up only being only slightly taller than the males, and stood straight instead of hunched over like he'd seen from several of the Berserkers.

Taking them off combat drugs and harsh training regimens had really changed them. Hm. It wasn't ideal, but they could function well if properly armed and armored. Hopefully the tradeoff for this had been a substantial increase in intelligence. If not, at minimum they would serve as a good vanguard to a more dangerous force.

The speeder finally stopped, and the cockpit hood lifted, and all of them got out. It was by the edge of the artificial lake, and a short distance away was a small open tent, where several figures Nartha couldn't determine were gathered around. It was surprisingly not as hot as he'd been expecting, and he assumed they had also installed either cooling or air conditioning systems into the cave as well.

"This way," their guide said, and began walking toward the tent. They were beginning to attract some attention, especially from the various Mutons. He noticed that the groups tended to be either what he thought were…families, as odd as that sounded, since there was one male, one female, and usually three or four children, or groups of just children. It was odd seeing that from Mutons of all things.

Intermixed were other Vitakara, largely Dath'Haram, but also Vitakarians and Cobrarian, all of whom were armed and looked at him with obvious suspicion. They were apparently protective of the children, since they made sure to get in front of them while watching him.

Interesting.

The tent had three individuals. One of them was a Dath'Haram male, the next a Vitakarian female, and the final a Muton male. All of them were speaking with each other, and stopped once they walked up. "Zar'nartha'intha," the Dath'Haram greeted, baring his teeth in greeting. "Welcome, to our Enclave."

Merina and the guide had disappeared, leaving him alone. That was fine by him, since they ultimately didn't matter anymore. The Vitakara were wearing a mixture of tan desert survival gear, while the Muton was one of those that was armored. None were armed as far as he saw, and he inclined his head. "I appreciate you inviting me so quickly."

"Considering you threatened to expose us, don't pretend it was a simple request on your part," the Vitakarian spat at him.

"He is Zararch," the Muton said. "They do not know other ways."

Nartha looked at the Muton and frowned. "There are other ways, but I did not have time for them."

"We can't change the circumstances now," the Dath'Haram said, raising a hand in placation. "But we are all here, so let us talk. I am, or was, Dath'uurian'haramshiral, a former xenopsychologist and xenoanthropologist. This is Runi'zerintha'vitiary, our head of what passes for security." He motioned to the Vitakarian woman. "And this is Chief Ryarik, of the D'Rarrah Tribe."

"I welcome you, Zararch," the Muton said, still retaining that glare Mutons had, and Nartha suspected he might actually mean it this time. Surprisingly literate for a Muton who wasn't a Sargon. Perhaps this wasn't a bad sign after all.

"You have an impressive operation," Nartha complimented, sincerely meaning it. "I figured it would have to be well-hidden, but the length you went to explains why the Collective has not found you yet."

Uurian gave a single nod. "It took many years, but our operation is as close to thriving as we could make it. Outthinking the Collective was not an easy task."

"No," Nartha interrupted bluntly, shaking his head. "While I appreciate how effective this was, you are not as smart as you think you are." Zerintha's face hardened, but Nartha raised a hand to cut her off. "I will be honest with you, since you'll probably appreciate that more. The only reason you have survived this long is because the Collective hadn't noticed until now. They do now, and now they have us looking for you. It didn't take me long to figure out who was likely behind them, and then it was a simply matter of applying pressure. Your operation has flaws that any intelligence agency will exploit. You are not safe."

Uurian appraised him. "I see. And yet you are against the Collective?"

"Correct," Nartha confirmed. "My orders are to find this operation, and destroy it. I think it would be best to turn that against the Collective. I have already acquired allies in the Cobrarian Hierarchy, and established contact with the Nulorian. My goal is to establish a coordinated resistance through the entire Collective, and this operation would be an excellent asset."

Zerintha's eyes narrowed and she took a step forward. "You're working with the Nulorian? The terrorists?"

"Of course I am," Nartha answered evenly. "They are the only ones on Vitakar who shared this goal. You are the only other ones."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you," Zerintha said coldly. "That isn't our goal."

"So your operative Merina stated," Nartha said evenly. "So please, enlighten me as to what could be the point of this other than to resist the Collective?"

"I can not speak for Elders Uurian and Zerintha," the Muton Ryarik said, in the gravely stunted voice of his kind. "But we are trying to…restore…what we once were. Not trying to…" he broke out into something in the Muton tongue, before Zerintha told him something, the language sounding odd from her lighter voice. "Forget," he finished. "We do not want to forget."

"I will give you a short history," Uurian told him, stepping forward. "I was…unaware of the extent to which the Mutons had been reduced. When the Collective sent me to this planet, they first wanted me to figure out means to break them easier and further reduce their already shattered culture. I am ashamed to say I was…instrumental…in helping them understand Muton psychology, in figuring how far they can be pushed. How to turn their traditions against them."

He motioned to the area. "You would not know it today, but the Mutons were not just brutes as you likely think they are. They are only that way because the Collective needs a disposable weapon, and everything else is secondary. What little of the Muton culture that remains is warped to be unrecognizable, and anything resembling what they were is gone."

He clasped his hands together. "Near the end, I decided to do something. I'd learned what the Collective was going to do, which they hadn't bothered to tell those involved. We had believed we were working to figure out how to lessen their more violent tendencies and uplift them, but everything we discovered was simply used to make hardened, better soldiers. When they began the birthing centers and War Camps, I began gathering resources with a small group of similarly-minded colleagues, and we established this sanctuary here."

Uurian motioned around him. "During the course of my research, I'd learned as much about the species as I could. I didn't want that to be forgotten, and whenever possible, we began smuggling Mutons born for the war camps to here, where we raised them as best we could. Not perfectly, of course, but we tried keeping what we could to at least retain some aspects of their culture. Their society, titles, rituals, we tried respecting that as best we could."

"Admirable," Nartha nodded. "But to what end?"

Uurian sighed, shaking his head. "Zararch live for plots and motivations. I don't. My only goal is to save at least some of the millions of Mutons, and ensure that what they were isn't forgotten. There is no larger goal than that, short of expanding to other places once space runs out."

That, while certainly ambitious, struck Nartha as incredibly short-sighted. Really, what was the point of going to all this trouble if nothing was going to change? What the Mutons were didn't matter in the larger war. This wasn't even really hurting the Collective, nor was it making a point they would recognize.

There was literally no point to any of this aside from a strange sentimentality.

Baffling.

"We raise families here," Ryarik said. "Our children are told the stories; what history we can remember. Our ways that the Elders have recovered. They live free of the death of the War Camps."

"To what end?" Nartha questioned. "Is their goal just to exist? If they can never leave this place, what future do they have? What is the point?"

"When the alternative is a life of mindless servitude and likely death?" Zerintha asked rhetorically. "Just 'existing' seems acceptable to me. Do you think the same is true of the citizens on Vitakar? What is the point of them existing?"

"Not the same thing," Nartha disputed with a shake of his head. "Everything, for good or ill, all comes to ultimately improving Vitakara society and strengthening the Collective. There is something they work to, even if it is as simple as protection or expansion," he motioned around. "You are confined to one area, and at best to the underground network of caves. What are you working towards?"

"I think we have succeeded in the main goal," Uurian interrupted. "We have a self-sustaining and growing population of peaceful Mutons who retain some of their old ways and history. They have children, they grow, they learn. They don't need a larger goal to be content."

"Sustainable," Nartha said, a mirthless smile on his face. "Perhaps if you hadn't been discovered. The Collective is aware of your operation now, and what do you think they will do once they find out what you've done? Just let you be? What do you think they will do? Are you even ready to defend them?"

"We have some means of defense," Zerintha said, glaring at him. "But no, we don't have an army. We rescued them specifically to make sure they wouldn't have to be soldiers. That was the point!"

"As long as the Collective exists," Nartha retorted. "You will never be safe, and eventually you will be found. I'm offering you something to actually work towards. If you truly want to revive the Mutons, allow them to actually have a chance to flourish, you must prepare to fight back. Otherwise the Muton species will die down here, and this time it will be forgotten."

"I'm not so ignorant as to not make contingencies," Uurian noted calmly. "But we're not fools. War and violence have never caused any good. Call me a pacifist as the Zararch like to call us, but the Nulorian are no better than the Collective. What they did to the Muton species is unforgivable, but the Nulorian would purge whoever they deem unworthy."

He bared his teeth once more. "You have an admirable goal. One I hope you succeed in. But I know what you are thinking. You don't see sentimental aliens here, you see an army you can use against the Collective. That I will not allow. I will not turn them into warriors to die in your war."

"We are content with our existence here," Ryarik added. "We do not desire war, even if it is against the ones who destroyed us. We do not want to die."

But you will, it just won't be right now, Nartha thought in frustration. They didn't seem to realize that they didn't have a real choice here. And they were pushing him towards some unsavory options. He wasn't going to turn them over to the Collective, they were still too valuable a resource to ignore, but they were clearly not going to be compliant because of their damned pacifism.

"So what are you going to do?" Zerintha demanded. "Will you destroy us because we didn't agree to your request?"

Nartha sighed. "No. There is little point in assisting the Collective further. I could force you, but that would accomplish little. But when the Zararch does eventually find you, I will not prevent them."

"That, I suppose, is all we can ask," Uurian said. "Thank you, Nartha. I'm sorry we couldn't give you what you wanted, but I wish you success."

And with that, Nartha unfortunately knew what his next step would be.

Not ideal, but some things were required if the Collective was to be brought down.

---

Blacksite 009 – The Prism

11/19/2016

The Battlemaster was quite surprised at the most recent development. His interactions with the Guardians were generally limited, as if he needed to speak with the Imperator, it would be in person, and interacting with the Guardians was rarely needed. The Battlemaster had always had respect for the Guardians as an organization, but it was a step he rarely needed to actually stop and take.

With that said, they were the closest the Imperator had to ambassadors. He usually only sent them if something needed to be urgently communicated, and couldn't be intercepted; as a warning, which he had done several times to the Creator; and finally to assist in whatever the operations were taking place. To date, this had only been offered during the Muton Subjugation, and he had refused since the help wasn't needed.

To outsiders, there would likely be little point seen in having the Guardians as they seemed to fill the same role the Division of the Battlemasters had. Their armor was also heavily based on Battlemaster designs, although they used elerium-powered plate armor which augmented their already extensive strength and speed significantly, even if visually it didn't look dissimilar to the Battlemaster's own.

They wore deep purple capes, also similar to Battlemasters, and their helmets were not ornate and simply covered their heads and mouths, though allowed the eyes to be seen, but during combat, flaps would slide down and cover them completely. The Battlemaster suspected the helmet was designed that way to work better with the hood that could be put up over it. While not as heavy as the Overmind's or Macula's it performed the same function.

However, neither the cape or hood were mandatory, and some Guardians eschewed both and made this decision largely based on their fighting styles. Like Battlemasters, each Guardian had their own unique style of combat, and their own set of unique weapons; the Guardian Sabers. Each Saber was designed and constructed by the Guardian themselves, and was based on highly unstable nanotech.

They were some of the most effective and highly configurable weapons ever invented. However, the Battlemaster personally found them on the verge of cheating due to their effectiveness. Not to mention they had their own drawbacks. They were excellent for the purpose they were designed for, but it was not a weapon he would ever personally use.

There were only two left, the First Guardian, and the Second Guardian. One was expected, but both being sent at once was unheard of. "The Imperator sends his greetings, and commends you on your efforts in bringing Earth under control," the Second Guardian began, easily distinguishable not because of her voice, but because she wore the full Guardian set of armor, cape, hood and all.

Her delicately designed Saber was attached to her waist, with one lower hand resting on it at all times. Fortunate the two had decided to distinguish themselves, because otherwise they were difficult to tell apart otherwise. Both were the same height, and just as tall as he was, as they were almost always selected from the Division of the Battlemasters to begin with.

"It is appreciated," the Battlemaster said slowly. "However, the Imperator would not send both of you here to simply offer his…compliments."

"Because he has not," the First Guardian stated, lacking both the cape and hood in contrast to his counterpart, and his lower hands clasped behind his back while his twin Sabers were hooked to his waist. "We are here to offer our support to your efforts once more."

Interesting.

If ADVENT was preparing to field more psions, it would certainly not hurt to have more Ethereals at his disposal to mitigate them. Both Nebulan, Macula, and Quisilia were occupied for the foreseeable future, and he didn't want to utilize Caelior too much outside of necessity. The Guardians could be essential in ensuring what they controlled remained under Collective control, and expanding it further.

"Is this by order of the Imperator, or your own request?" The Battlemaster asked.

"Both," the Second Guardian said. "It has been too long since we have plied our trade against an enemy, and continued training only helps so much. We requested this of the Imperator, and he agreed. You are familiar with our skills, so you know what we can do."

"Do not take this as a slight, Battlemaster," the First Guardian clarified. "I suspect that you could take both of us and win. We simply wish to assist in any way we can, for the Imperator and his eventual victory."

The Battlemaster nodded. "Granted. I have several operations that could use additional support. How familiar are you with Earth geography?"

"Moderately," the Second Guardian answered, exchanging a look with her counterpart. "We studied the major battlegrounds so far, including additional areas of interest such as China, Canada, and Russia."

"Then you are aware we've suffered some setbacks," the Battlemaster stated. At their affirmation, he continued. "Korea will be our next major offensive, and it will be a difficult one. Afterwards we will retake the ground we lost in America, and additionally launch offensives in Canada and Mexico. More are planned, but if you are involved, you will spearhead some of these operations."

"Acknowledged," the First Guardian rumbled. "We look forward to testing ourselves against the Humans. They have posed a greater challenge than either of us have anticipated."

"That they have," the Battlemaster agreed. "But even their best will still be insufficient."

"They face the Guardians of the Imperator," the Second Guardian said with a flourish. "We will ensure their threat is removed. On that you have our assurance."

---

Desolan, War Camp 402

11/19/2016

The best case scenario would have had the Muton Enclave group working to militarize their extensive forces independently, and keeping in contact with the other groups he was coordinating. However, since they were not interested, he would have to co-opt their resources through other means, and that was going to involve a lot more work on his part.

Specifically, he was going to have to get the Nulorian on Desolan.

The good news though, was that once they were on the planet, they would easily be able to find where the Enclave was. Nartha had seen enough to know that they couldn't just pack up and move, no matter what contingencies were in place. So he had embedded nanite trackers on the speeder he had ridden in, and various places within the Enclave itself. They would not be detectable, but they would be sending constant signals.

In addition to the location of the Enclave, he also had a list of each War Camp the speeder had gone too, which meant there were others there who were contacts. This would be useful for the Nulorian to secure the Enclave network against the Zararch.

He didn't know exactly what the Nulorian were going to do to the leaders of the Enclave, or the Mutons for that matter. He didn't especially care, but he did know that they would turn them into an acceptable fighting force, and run the operation much more securely as a result. It would likely not be pleasant, and he felt some guilt as ruining what had seemed to be a good operation with a mildly noble goal.

However, that would mean absolutely nothing if the Collective won. The Nulorian would give the Mutons at least something to fight for, beyond just existing and hoping they were never discovered. He would have to wait and see what the Nulorian could actually send, but in the meantime, he'd sent an encoded message explaining the situation. Maybe they'd think it was too risky, which he was also prepared for.

What absolutely had to be done was closing the Zararch investigation, which was going to be the trickiest thing to do. The Zar'Chon would want, if not results, at least a lead on where to go. Fabricating anything like that was a nightmarish undertaking, and simply setting up scapegoats with planted evidence wouldn't be enough…

Hmm…unless he could establish an interplanetary smuggling ring? Data could be faked, that wasn't the issue. The issue would be proof, because who would actually want to be behind that?

He rubbed his eyes. If it were anything else, he would bring down only part of the organization and let the other half live on. Unfortunately, this was too tied to a central location, and the ring of informants and cells would only lead to it. It was too risky to turn any part of it to the Zar'Chon. Not if he actually wanted to use it.

Worst case scenario, he could write this as a loss and move on. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn't know what the best solution was. He supposed he could kill Merina, turn her over, say she fought and he had to kill her, and forge data to lead to somewhere else on the planet…

Hm. Maybe. Something to figure out.

He glanced down at his datapad. Hopefully the Nulorian would respond with something. It would at least give him some indicator on if he should continue focusing on this planet, or wrap this up completely.

There were no good solutions here.

But he'd have to make the best of it.

---

Sydney Outskirts – Australia

11/21/2016 – 12:11 A.M.

The gathered army of the Chronicler was an awe-inspiring sight, and one that even the aliens would be intimidated by. They were no longer the normal aliens she'd seen, but altered similar to how Harper and his people were. They wielded similar-looking particle rifles, and wore armor similar to the grey stonish armor the Chronicler himself wore.

The only exception to this were the Andromedons, who now sported various organic-like attachments to their suits. "They aren't going to know what hit them," Harper said grimly, walking up to her. She still wasn't used to how he looked now. Harper, and all of his soldiers who had joined him, were now clearly…altered.

The most noticeable were the eyes. They appeared to be somewhat mechanical in nature, and the irises were a glowing blue, with no other colors whatsoever. There was something unsettling about looking into them, and the much more subtle change was that to their skin, which was a shade darker than it was before. Harper had explained this as some kind of…recovery layer, and had demonstrated by cutting his arm and she'd seen the wound almost immediately close.

Still, Abby had to agree with him. "No, they won't."

In the distance was Sydney, which had now been turned into an alien stronghold. They must have seen them coming, because there were at least a thousand Mutons in the distance taking up positions in fortifications, barricades, and towers just outside the city, joined by various Vitakara. She wondered what they were thinking, as Australia was the last place they'd expect a major confrontation.

She looked down at her own gauntlets, the same stony texture and color as the rest of the armor the Chronicler and his army wore. It was without a doubt the most comfortable armor she'd ever worn, and durability-wise, it probably ranked up there as well. Like the weapons, the complete interior of the armor had been riddled with the wires which were now embedded in her entire body.

Abby had tried not to think about it as she'd geared up. Even if it didn't hurt, it made her acutely aware that she was essentially joining with the armor, which was probably why it had adjusted itself after she'd worn it a few minutes, and she noticed continuous tinkering to weight and tightness as it tried to form to what she wanted.

It also had a neat feature which would allow her to go invisible whenever she wanted. Like the weapon, all she had to do was think what she wanted, and it would happen. As far as she knew, there wasn't a hard limit on time, which raised the question of just how the hell this thing was powered.

That she'd have to investigate later, but as the small army marched forward, she felt she would be putting it to its limits soon. She flipped the helmet around in her hands and put it on, feeling the wires begin the unsettling penetration of her face (eyes and nostrils included), and skull. Abby really wanted to know what the original designer of this technology was thinking when coming up with that feature, because as useful as it seemed to be, it would completely freak out most people.

"Quite impressive, isn't it," the Chronicler commented, walking up in full armor and hands clasped behind his back. He certainly was pleased with himself.

Abby nodded. "I really want to know where the hell you got all this stuff."

The Chronicler chuckled. "That's a secret I'll keep for now; suffice to say it is quite scalable."

"It would also help if you gave this to XCOM or ADVENT," she added. "Assuming this is as good as you say…we could use it."

"Trust me when I say that is a bad idea," the Chronicler warned, glancing to her. "Everything has a cost to use, and technology like this…is best kept away from government and paramilitary organizations. For more reasons than one."

"Even when the world is at stake?"

"Yes." He answered firmly. "I'm afraid you can't fully grasp the consequences without certain…sacrifices. Harper knows now, as do those who joined him. I cannot say more than that."

That didn't make much sense, but Abby couldn't help but feel some agreement with him. Whatever these weapons and armor were, they were far beyond Ethereal tech, and Abby didn't know if they should be touching this without figuring out how something like this worked, because so much of it didn't seem possible in the first place.

Besides, the Chronicler was still going to use them, and if things got too bad, he could probably arrive and assist ADVENT or XCOM. However, that wouldn't happen until Australia was taken, which could be some time yet. It would ultimately depend on how the upcoming battle for Sydney went. All signs pointed to a victory.

But she wouldn't believe that until the last alien had been executed.

---

Portland, Oregon – United States of America

11/20/2016 – 8:01 P.M.

Roman and his team were mostly prepared for the surprise attack. So surprising, in fact, that no one had really been told until a few hours ago. Apparently ADVENT wasn't going to sit back and let the aliens retaliate and had decided to just try and take back America for good. One massive strike into the heart of their territory.

He quite liked the plan.

He did not like, however, relying on the trains to take them there. Assuming that the aliens hadn't touched the tracks with mines or explosives, he just didn't like trains. Not exactly the best reason, but he found them uncomfortable, confining, and loud. But they all had to make sacrifices, and he had to admit it was a good way to get people excited to be the first out and in.

"[Hope the mindrapers don't show up this time,]" Elena muttered as they moved to board the trains. She'd recovered with no visible injuries from the battle, although she'd been shaken for some time. Roman didn't know how recovered she actually was, but she'd told him enough about how completely terrifying the feeling of losing control was.

The more he thought about it, the more Roman didn't like psionics. It seemed to cause a lot more problems than it fixed. But that wasn't how the world worked, and they needed to harness the power themselves to fight it. An endless loop, and ADVENT had adapted in kind with the new PRIEST Division, their own army of psions.

"[We've got some of our own now,]" Anton said, patting his rifle. "[Think the greys will be more focused on them than us ordinary soldiers.]"

"[Either way, this is going to spook them,]" Galina commented as a team of Lancers boarded. "[I don't know what they were waiting for, but I'm looking forward to killing a few dozen more of them.]"

"[Get in line,]" Roman smirked as he did one final equipment check. "[The only good aliens are dead aliens.]"

"[It's a bit funny,]" Elena said. "[I've wanted to visit California. But I didn't expect that to happen while liberating it.]"

"[Assuming that there's anyone left,]" Konstantin pointed out grimly. "[Doesn't make sense to keep a lot of civilians around. If I were them, I'd have gotten rid of them a while ago.]"

Roman felt he was correct. As nice as it would be to personally liberate the cities, the aliens probably wouldn't risk keeping Humans around, especially with ADVENT so close already. He hoped that they were still alive, but he supposed considering what the aliens did to the captives…perhaps it was better that they weren't.

All they could do was avenge.

And that was something all of them were prepared to do.

---

ADVENT Command – Switzerland

11/20/2016 – 10:55 P.M.

"The final preparations have been completed," Commander Christiaens informed Saudia through the holographic display. She was joined by a fully armored Weekes, Finn, and the Commander of XCOM. "All forces are prepared and ready to deploy."

"There are multiple PRIEST Squads prepared and ready to assist," Finn added. "Both Archpriests of America, and two dozen Protopriests are awaiting the order."

"Noted, Vicar General," Saudia confirmed. She was extremely interested to see just how large an effect the PRIESTs ended up having in the battle. Psions could change the course of battles, and having this many on their side? That could ultimately save them. But still, everything had to go exceptionally well.

"I have six XCOM Squads ready to deploy, and two held in reserve in case the Battlemaster or Caelior arrive," the Commander added, who actually wasn't armored, which likely meant he would be assisting Laura at the Citadel. "I believe we are ready to begin. There is no point delaying; we've been lucky they haven't done anything until this point."

"On that we agree," Weekes said, giving a sidelong look at the Commander. "The Lancers are also ready, and now that the Hussar, Cuirassier and Dragoon Corps are also cleared for deployment, they have been prepared to assist as needed."

"Excellent, you have my authorization to launch Operations Kraken, Sherman, and Kamehameha," she stated. "I will inform the public tomorrow morning when the operations are fully underway. Congress will be notified as well, and they will begin drafting legislation for funding for rebuilding and projects, should you succeed."

"How familiar are they with this?" The Commander asked.

"Familiar enough," Saudia clarified. "They are aware that we have several major operations being planned, and that we will be launching them soon. This will not be a surprise to them."

"I have also ordered Korea be put on guard," Laura added. "If the aliens retaliate anywhere, it will likely be there. We should anticipate a war on two fronts within the next couple days. This could turn into a siege, Chancellor, be sure to warm the public to that idea. Not every battle is going to be done within one day."

"Noted, Commander," Saudia nodded. "Good luck to all of you. You will have whatever support you need, and that of ADVENT as well. Wipe the aliens out."

Weekes gave a wide smile. "With pleasure, Chancellor."

All the holograms winked out, and Saudia sat down in the chair behind her. Everything was coming together much better than she'd hoped, which made her wonder what they were missing. Contingencies were in place, preparations were made, and they were rested and ready for battle.

Perhaps she wasn't missing anything. Maybe they had done everything right.

But it was always the unexpected that ruined plans, and that was what she was ultimately concerned about. They could only push the aliens so far before they started an escalation. But that was inevitable.

They wanted a war. Now they were going to learn what that really meant.