Miridian

Fort McMurray, Alberta – Canada

1/31/2017 – 4:13 P.M.

Neil couldn't fully tell if Commander Christiaens was about to congratulate him, or yell at him for how the operation had gone down. The ADVENT dropships had come nearly an hour ago after they had wrapped up securing the remainder of the town (fortunately not suffering any more team casualties, although some of the civilians had been fatally shot), and getting the remainder of the civilians out of there.

Holotechnology was a useful piece of equipment, something he hadn't known ADVENT had until the Captain in charge had brought him over to a small and complicated-looking setup. Blue and transparent, the setup had, in addition to a fairly large base, an antenna that was as tall as he was, along with several additional cameras which had been set up around him. Probably so he could also show up in hologram form to her.

But in short, the mission had…not really gone according to plan.

"How many casualties did you take?"

"Eight. Five wounded. One Inquisitor was lost. Four civilian casualties."

Laura looked at him impassively. "I expected this first mission to go a little smoother. The aliens had no idea this was your intention or plan. Now they'll know that there is an ADVENT team out there to kill Sargons."

"Yes, Commander, I know." She really didn't need to remind him how much harder his job was going to be. "I didn't anticipate the aliens bringing in new tech to deal with us."

Laura pursed her lips. "While it's true you couldn't have predicted they'd bring these…Custodians…you should have planned better. From how it was described, you were very lucky to be alive at all."

"Yes, I am aware." No point in arguing with her, especially when she did have a point. "I underestimated the Sargon. Even though I made a point to try not to."

"I would hope you learn your lesson here," Laura said, before looking off to the side at something he couldn't see. "But regardless of how it was executed, your primary objective was completed and we gained some valuable knowledge. You've interacted the most with a Sargon, so I want to know your impressions."

"It wasn't like a regular…person," Neil began, trying to think of the best word. "It talked and seemed to think more like a computer or machine than something actually alive. In the span of a minute it seemed to piece together our mind games against the Vitakara, and that we were leading them into a trap or otherwise compromising them."

Laura waited for him to continue. "It noticed things and asked questions I didn't prepare for. Or at least not things I thought an alien would care about. Cycelea made him suspicious immediately; if she hadn't picked an actual name from the citizen registry, it would have been much worse. I'm also wondering if the Sargon was suspecting something wrong was happening. He specifically brought along Custodians. Probably to act as anti-psionic countermeasures and cross-check everything said. Which tells me that the Sargons are a lot more aware about what's happening than what the Overseers may be sending."

"Do you think the Sargons might have operatives of their own as spies?" Laura asked. "Or possibly doing what you performed and psionically hijacking civilians to report?"

"Possibly alien spies, I doubt civilians – at least here," Neil shook his head. "If any civilians were compromised, we probably would have died. I don't think the Sargon knew for sure. Suspected, yes, but he didn't come to that conclusion until later."

Laura grunted. "But the Custodians would have sent an emergency broadcast or message. They will know you're in operation now. And they'll be prepared."

"Yes. My job will be harder."

"You'll need more people," Laura said. "I'll send you some more. I don't want any more dead soldiers."

What she really meant was I don't want half of your force to die – plan better.

"Yes, Commander."

"In any case, we have a Sargon corpse," Laura said. "Something XCOM has wanted for a long time. It'll go to them, as well as some of the Custodians. Your own force will be resupplied and properly prepped, but you better get far away from here."

"I'm planning on it," he nodded. "And the civilians?"

"They'll be moved somewhere safe. No matter how it went, you did a good thing for them."

"Aside from the four that died."

"Unfortunate, but it could have gone much worse," Laura furrowed her eyebrows. "And it's actually good news. It means they don't have civilian kill-orders. From how it was described to me, those just so happened to be in the line of crossfire. The Custodians likely considered them to be possible threats. But they didn't go hunting for civilians to kill."

"No, it didn't appear so," Neil agreed. "Although I'd be more surprised if it was the opposite. What do the aliens get from killing civilians outside of sending a message that would only backfire?"

Laura seemed to consider that. "It depends on which Ethereal is in charge at the moment. Some of them would do just that. We should be thankful the Battlemaster is still in charge."

"I'm not going to give him credit," Neil snorted. "I'll consider it after he leaves and takes his army with him."

Laura cracked a smile. "Fair enough, Operative Harrison. I expect you to inform me of your next target within two days. You know what to do then. Good luck."

He acknowledged and saluted, before the hologram faded out and left him relatively alone. So, time to get to work and get out of here. Burials for the dead would have to be done away from here, and he wouldn't be able to attend. But they would at least get burials and not be forgotten in the snow.

One Sargon down. Time to hunt the next.

Throne Room of the Imperator – Temple Ship of the Imperator of the Ethereal Collective

2/6/2017 – 7:42 A.M.

It wasn't quite like it was on Earth, not in the least with the large throne just behind her and the expanse of flat metal. But it was something. There were stars above her head, and even though she knew it was because of cameras and screens, it was…almost comforting. Something that was in shorter supply now.

It made her realize she missed Earth. Maybe even just being on a planet. But a spacecraft made of metal that traveled the black void was something she felt she could only spend a limited amount of time on. Or maybe it would be different if she hadn't just watched her friend be reduced to liquid and miniscule string-like substances.

It was so fast. There'd been no warning. No final statement. Just one word.

Confirm.

That seemed to say that Abby had always had some way of self-destruction and just…hadn't done it. Not until they'd spoken. And she kept wondering what would have happened if she hadn't decided to talk to her, if Abby would still be alive. She hadn't completely expected to convince Abby of her arguments; not truly. She would have been deluding herself otherwise.

But to just kill herself because of what she said? No, not that. In that space of talking, Abby had decided it was better to die than help her.

It was unnerving, but should it have been?

Abby was just doing what she felt was right, which was primarily not cooperating with the enemy. Or at least what she knew was the enemy. Conditioning through either training, experience, the Manchurian Restraints, whatever; it had been enough to block out any possibility of agreeing that maybe the Ethereals weren't the ultimate enemy.

Perhaps they were right?

Was she just that weak-willed to be swayed by another argument as long as it was a sound one? Was that the definition of being weak-willed? Would the right, the Human, thing to do have been to just spit in the Imperator's face when he'd explained everything and leave or be killed? Sure, it wouldn't have turned out good for her, but she would have defied the clear and known enemy.

At the cost of ignoring everything that was said. She couldn't just forget what she learned, and couldn't in good conscience ignore it. That just wasn't how she functioned or thought. Maybe she was just a bad Human.

She wondered what the Commander would say to her about this. She suspected it would probably go about as well as it had with Abby. The Commander would never allow Humanity to submit to an alien force willingly, and that was the one ray of hope that she had that XCOM hadn't been compromised by T'Leth.

Of course, it was laughable to consider that any Human would stop a Sovereign just because they wanted to. The Commander might try to deal with a Sovereign, but it would never work. He would never be able to ensure complete independence, much as he might want to.

The entrance to the Throne Room opened and the room briefly had some new light enter, which vanished when the door closed behind the Imperator. "Patricia. Why are you in here?" He didn't sound surprised at all, which was to be expected given that he'd probably sensed her here even at the other end of the ship.

"Needed time alone to think," she shrugged, leaning back against the massive steps which led to the actual throne. "No one ever comes here."

"I see." He began walking over. "The throne is more comfortable than the steps."

"Probably," she agreed. "But it's too big for me, and I didn't want to set off any traps you probably put in it."

"The defense mechanisms will only activate if you attempt to utilize the functions," the Imperator said. "Sitting on it does nothing. But your point is acknowledged."

The Imperator finally stopped a short distance away from the base of the steps, leaving her just under eye level with him. She didn't really know what he was going to do here, although she realized that he might not be pleased that she'd essentially caused the destruction of the armor he'd explicitly wanted to study. She'd been so focused on Abby's death that the armor was barely an afterthought.

"You are troubled." His tone made it clear this wasn't a question.

"Of course I am," she sighed. "Having a friend kill themselves in front of you isn't really healthy for the mind."

"It is not," he agreed. "However, there was little that was likely to be done. She apparently had this feature in her armor the entire time, and would have likely activated it regardless of if you had spoken to her or not."

"Maybe," she knew she didn't sound convinced. "But I'm pretty sure it was something I said that finally tipped her over the edge. Maybe she would have done it anyway, but I was the reason she went through with killing herself. She must have thought that was better than cooperating with me."

"Are you certain she was the one to activate the measure?" The Imperator seemed more probing, again asking a question he likely had the answer too. "We do not know how much control T'Leth has over his creations. Perhaps he activated it remotely."

She snorted. "I almost wish he did. It's a nice thought, but I doubt it a lot. Otherwise T'Leth would have probably activated it the moment she was sent to Fectorian. Or even the moment she was captured. And before she died, she said 'confirm' and immediately turned into a pool of liquid and strings."

She closed her eyes, leaning back on the sharp edges of the step. "I don't think she was an agent of T'Leth. She was still Abby. She was still in control. And she chose to kill herself because of what I said. Ignoring that won't help."

The Imperator was silent for a few moments, and she could sense that he was…oddly calm. More than she would have expected given what he'd lost in this incident. "And what of you, Patricia? Are you reconsidering your own decisions because of what happened?" No accusation or significant emotion in his voice, just a curious inquiry.

She opened her eyes again, and gave a very thin and sad smirk. "And if I was, would it actually be a good idea to tell you about it? You are perhaps still the greatest threat against Humanity. Speaking to you is dangerous."

"And yet you come here," he motioned around the vicinity of the Throne Room. "You knew I would come back, and could have left long before now."

"Observant," she noted dryly. "And true." She sighed. "As unbelievable as it is for me to say, you're probably the only one here I can have a real conversation with. I don't know any of the Humans here, definitely not well enough to talk about certain subjects, and they wouldn't have any connection to me either. Half the Ethereals would prefer I was executed and the others more or less tolerate me." Patricia lifted an arm to point at the alien opposite her. "And so I'm stuck with the Imperator of the Ethereal Collective for company."

"You could leave; return to XCOM."

"Yes, I know that," she answered quietly, rubbing her forehead. "And if that was Abby's reaction, I don't think the rest of the Internal Council or soldiers would welcome me back. They would, probably rightfully, think I'd been compromised. At best I'd be confined and watched. At worst they might kill me. Throw in T'Leth potentially compromising everything and my chances of survival go down significantly. I need to contact the Commander remotely before I actually think about leaving."

"Understandable, and an intelligent plan," the Imperator nodded. "But you are bothered still."

"Personal problems," she shrugged. "What Abby did, I know the Commander would approve of. Death before betrayal and all that. And here I am, talking to the known enemy of Humanity and I don't think I'm doing the wrong thing. Most Humans wouldn't even have considered what I've done. I don't like to believe that I'm a traitor, but I think that's what I've become."

"Which is not necessarily a bad thing," the Imperator pointed out. "Throwing away your life in a show of defiance serves no one; even less if you learn something which changes your perspective. Too many Ethereals were content to die in a lost battle, when the far better alternative was to flee and hide. Sapient beings, no matter their species, have difficulty changing their views, no matter how much or little evidence is brought against them."

He inclined his head towards her. "That is why you are unique. You can be convinced through argument, logic, and debate and will adapt your worldview based on new evidence. Few members of any species can do it as easily as you can."

"I don't know if that says anything good about me," she shrugged, leaning forward and resting her arms on her knees. "That just makes me someone who can be won over by anything as long as the argument is good."

"But you are smarter than that," the Imperator dismissed. "Both of us know that isn't true, otherwise you would have been swayed by Abby, or by Mortis and the Battlemaster on the Bringer. You know that what I've told you is a stronger argument than what the opposition would say. So you will stand by it until you are proven wrong. Perhaps that is a risk in the future, but one I am willing to accept."

"You are extremely confusing to me," she said, looking up at him. "In the back of my mind I'm always wondering if you're just saying the right things to sway me to your side or flat out lying to get me to cooperate. But also I don't sense you lying and if this is a long game, you're really good at it," she sighed. "I don't know who or what to believe sometimes, coming from you. No offense."

"None is taken," the Imperator simply looked down at her. "You know what I've said before. I have not lied to you, and if you help me, it will be of your own volition. That has not changed, nor do I intend to change it. You can be suspicious, but I think that you know that I am telling the truth to you."

Deep down, Patricia couldn't deny that. And the Imperator probably knew it.

But she didn't want to take the final step. Not yet.

"Maybe," was all she said. "I think we'll both get an answer to that question soon."

Situation Room – Collective Mars Base

2/12/2017 – 10:17 A.M.

"Subject Zero has been released and will be arriving in Beijing today," the Zar'Chon updated to the cat-holding Ethereal standing behind him. He didn't need to look away from the holoprojection of the country to know that was what Quisilia wanted to hear. It had taken some time to set up, but had otherwise appeared to go off without any problems.

There were still plenty of flights which still ran throughout Earth, even during the conflict, although there were places that were locked down. Africa was not one of them, and there were enough tourists, professionals, and researchers moving throughout them that it was a simple matter to identify potential subjects, use a Vanguard to psionically restrain them and implant telepathic commands or suggestions, infect them, and release them.

It required knowledge of their itinerary and the background of the individual had to be taken into account, but it was easier to operate in a non-ADVENT controlled part of the planet like Africa. Subject Zero, a medical assistant working for a Chinese-based company that provided aid to third world countries, fit the criteria well.

That the smallpox virus was already airborne made infecting her trivial, and when she boarded the plane the Sectoids who had designed the plague had stated that statistically, at least half of the people on that plane would also be infected, and those people would continue to spread the disease leading to an exponential pandemic.

The disease wouldn't kill everyone, but the mortality rates were high enough that the Zar'Chon knew it would be effective, especially in a high-density country such as China, also not taking into account the fact that many of the Chinese citizens were not rich or especially healthy. It would serve well enough, and if the disease spread as planned – the Chinese would have their numbers decimated and it would throw their country into chaos.

Ravarian doubted that the higher class of the Chinese people would be affected – they had medical care that would likely be able to prevent death, even if they would be bedridden for several days. No, it was actually better if many of them didn't die, because they would be forced to take action and give people a target. The Chinese could be as pragmatic as ADVENT, given their history. It was not out of the question they would quarantine entire cities with violent force and just wait for everyone inside them to die.

ADVENT would likely help develop a cure or an updated vaccine, but by that point the simulation projected a minimum of a quarter of a million deaths, and at least half a billion infections. China's population density would work against them, and if they were lucky, the military would also be heavily affected. Ravarian suspected that they would be among the first to receive any kind of treatment, which would cut down fatalities.

The Sectoid-engineered cure was already being prepared to be shipped to the SAS if any outbreak happened. That base was covered. It was also unlikely that ADVENT itself would be drastically affected by this, since they were not the primary target. But in the end, China would be softened for the upcoming invasion.

Considering it had gone well so far, he was in a good mood.

"And you are certain she was infected?"

"Of course," Ravarian confirmed. "And in the event that she somehow wasn't, there are contingencies. The consequence is, obviously, that our invasion of China will need to be delayed. But as this didn't happen, everything is on schedule."

"Good, the Imperator will be pleased." Quisilia walked to the opposite end of the holoprojection. "A shift in operations should be begun. Intelligence on all major Chinese military outposts and cities; continuously updated as the Chinese quarantine to stem the epidemic. I do not want us to be surprised with anything they have. Their own Battlefield Intelligence must also be dealt with."

"Operations dealing with the Intelligence will be held until the actual attack," Ravarian pointed out. "Strike too early and they will prepare accordingly, epidemic or not."

"And your early projections for ADVENT's response?"

"That depends on the Chinese," he thought back to the data. "If the epidemic reaches minimum projections, it is likely the Chinese will request assistance. This percentage rises the higher the death toll and number of infected individuals. ADVENT will of course be more than happy to provide assistance. It is unlikely they would provide military assistance since there is no threat – yet."

He paused. "It is possible, though unlikely, that significant portions of the Communist Party will die or the leadership will crumble, leading to being assimilated by ADVENT. That is the worst-case scenario, but is unlikely to happen given how insistent the Chinese are on retaining their independence. ADVENT will certainly provide support when the invasion hits…but since the Chinese military will be weakened, simulations show us being able to take significant portions of the country, up through the regions of Guizhou, Hunan, and Jiangxi, along with most of the coast before ADVENT mobilizes their armies."

"ADVENT nations are nearby," Quisilia noted. "Taiwan, and much of Southeast Asia."

"I would suggest we send a warning for ADVENT not to become involved," Ravarian suggested slowly. "It is time for a show of force against ADVENT. We control space. They do not. If they interfere, we raze Taiwan to the ground and begin sustained bombardment of other nearby ADVENT nations. We can refrain from directly targeting China, as the Battlemaster will likely be leading the assault."

"Incorrect."

Ravarian frowned. "Sorry?"

"The Chinese operation will be part of a larger offensive," Quisilia corrected. "One piece. The Imperator has plans for the next stage of the war, and they involve more than just the Battlemaster or myself. Aegis cannot be everywhere, nor can XCOM."

"And I was not informed of this because?"

"Because it is recent, within the past week," Quisilia seemed to be holding something back, but gently set Fluffy on the ground before he continued. "Isomnum will be handling the Chinese invasion. The rest will fall to the Battlemaster."

Ravarian released a breath. Wonderful. "He will not be happy about that. Unless he decided this himself? I was under the impression all operations conducted on Earth were handled by him."

"No. The Imperator has overridden him." A pause. "He was not pleased, but still retains control over the remainder of Earth operations."

Knowing the Battlemaster, 'not pleased' was likely an understatement. And Ravarian couldn't blame him. Why the Imperator was insisting on using that specific Ethereal here, in such a crucial operation, was something he did not understand. There was something going on between the Ethereals; some tension that hadn't been there before.

He also had a suspicion as to what it could relate to. "There is something else which I've managed to receive intel on. I'm not positive on what it could mean, but ADVENT is preparing to unveil something damaging on us." He brought up the report and projected a copy of the words from his palm. "Paradise. I don't know if it relates to the Creator, but it's a possibility considering the context it is associated with."

Quisilia silently looked at the projected report. "It would be damaging, assuming they have something beyond Aegis's knowledge."

Ravarian decided to press; he definitely knew something about this. "I don't suppose you would know why this be coming up now? If it is from Aegis, they would have revealed it before this."

"I have an idea," Quisilia said slowly. "Recent developments at the Blacksite were not handled well and there has been some tension as a result. It is not like normal Blacksites. It has a purpose, but not one that will be understood by most."

"That isn't an answer," Ravarian shut off the holoprojector. "While I can't demand to know, it sounds like this is going to affect me very soon, and I should probably know how to handle any fallout."

Quisilia noticeably hesitated, almost as still as a statue. Likely debating something with himself. "A good point, Zar'Chon. Come with me, and I will tell you."

Autopsy Lab, the Praesidium – Classified Location

2/10/2017 – 12:13 P.M.

The Commander had, in truth, had lunch in worse places than an Autopsy Lab. That being said, it still wasn't on the top of his list for places to eat. But Vahlen and he hadn't had any kind of meal date in a while, and this was how both of them justified it. So they would eat and go over a new project which Vahlen had been conceptualizing ever since they'd gotten the Sargon corpse from ADVENT.

"Spartacus," he said out loud as he saw the title of the project. "Deliberate choice?"

"I thought you might appreciate it," she said as she ate beside him. "Given the goal of the project, I thought it was a fitting name."

"And the project is…?"

"A solution to the Muton problem," she said, reaching over him and moving to the next page from the touchscreen. "I've talked with Aegis, some cultural anthropologists, xenopsychologists and several of the defectors. Everyone knows that the Mutons are a problem beyond that they make up the majority of the Collective military. They're controlled at all levels by the Ethereals and for all intents and purposes are a slave race with no autonomy and ready to die rather than surrender."

"I'm aware," the Commander nodded. "We've discussed the likelihood of having to purge the entire species. We don't really have a large choice here. The only intelligent Mutons are Sargons – and these Praetorians, and both are brainwashed and conditioned to be loyal. Normal Mutons can't be convinced to stand down by Humans and can't function outside a military formula."

"I know, I know," she nodded. "But other options before genocide should be explored. The Mutons, from how Aegis has described them and my own observations, had potential to develop and grow, but were turned into weapons by the Collective. They could have been something different. What they need is to be reset."

He nodded. "I'd prefer not to kill all of them, but how do we set a species like this back to the beginning short of cloning some of them and dropping them off on a planet to evolve for several million years?"

"Here," Vahlen wiped her fingers and set the tablet between the two of them and flipped to a page with several graphs and images of Muton brain scans. "The Ethereals actually did do something useful here – they unlocked the full potential of the Muton species. Hundreds of thousands of years of cognitive evolution bypassed in mere decades. But instead of distributing this species-wide, they kept it to the leaders. The Sargons and Praetorians, and they could further control the intelligence of every other member of the species."

"A perfect stranglehold," the Commander nodded. "But we already suspected that."

"There is some good news," Vahlen pointed out. "Muton children aren't conditioned from birth. Sargons and the intelligent Mutons are specifically grown, and bypass the training on Desolan. Which means that there is cognitive potential – even if nothing close to a Sargon – but it's squashed during training. The Mutons may be lost, but the children can be salvaged."

"Alright," the Commander said. "This is your idea? Save the children?"

"Part of it," she clarified. "This is where Spartacus comes in." She swiped to the next slide. "A Muton of our own, based off of the Sargon, Praetorian, and Elite genome. But this one is unique – it will be made for the express purpose of salvaging the Muton species and developing it after our victory."

That was…a good idea. Barring the issue of actually growing a Muton of that intellectual level here, and how such a Muton would feasibly rebuild a species from the ground up. "I like the concept. What does Aegis think?"

"He thinks an effort should be made," Vahlen confirmed. "He isn't convinced it will work like how we hope, but worst case scenario we have a hyper-intelligent Muton on our side. And as an added bonus, we will also heavily influence the development of new Muton society. I imagine that a Muton that is raised by Humans would intrinsically trust them and not be prone to turning on them, and would of course want assistance when rebuilding his people."

The Commander smiled. "Another possible ally to ADVENT. Completely independent of outside influence, of course, but a strong ally nonetheless."

"I suspected the strategic benefits to this plan would also be useful," she said, laying the tablet down. "Which is why having AEGIS involved in this project will also be a recommendation. They're already working with the Vitakara and having success. Giving them access to the one who will lead the rebuilding of the Muton species? They would be more than happy to help."

"I assume there would be Manchurian Restraints used?" The Commander moved his empty plate away as he asked. "Growing our own Sargon-intelligence Muton has risk, and we shouldn't take it unless we can mitigate the drawbacks."

"Of course," she smirked. "Please, I know your standards. Though I am wary of having it be too invasive, otherwise we end up like the Ethereals. We don't want a complete puppet of ours."

"No, but he should be prevented from acting against us," he said. "Similar to the Restraints which are on all of us. But I like this idea, and will approve it for the rest of the Internal Council. If they also agree, you can officially activate it." Unofficially, both of them knew what the result would be and Moira was already beginning the project.

"Another thing," the Commander tipped the plate up a bit. "You can tell the ADVENT R&D that was the best burger I think I ever had. I would have never guessed it was grown in a lab. They don't have anything to worry about. People will love it."

"I'll pass along the compliment to Tygan," she said with a smile. "He's rather proud of the results so far. Although I am personally curious to know what it's actually made out of. I don't think it's fully one kind of beef, but a combination of some sort." She shrugged. "Well, perhaps it's best not to ask, and when it's this good, not a lot of reason to."

"I doubt there's anything to worry about," the Commander snorted to himself. "Tygan's not the kind of man who would do something outside his own ethics. Not willfully, anyway. Still, is he planning to do this with other meat?"

"So he says," Vahlen picked up the tablet again and began going through the apps looking for something. "Chicken, fish, turkey, every major meat that exists. No reason to only stick to one. It will be interesting to see the market react to lab-grown meat."

"They should open up their own restaurant if the chains are nervous," the Commander suggested, half-seriously. "With their own ADVENT™ branded meals." He changed his voice to imitate a commercial speaker. "'Come try the sizzling new ADVENT™ Burger, covered in delicious American cheese and fluffy bun! Only $1.99 for a limited time only'"

Vahlen laughed. "You joke, but I think they're going to do that. You would eat there."

She did have him there.

He wondered if aliens would like the ADVENT Burger as much as he had.

A question for another day.

Mess Hall, the Praesidium – Classified Location

2/8/2017 – 10:18 A.M.

The good news after that entire operation was that they'd not only been able to conquer a stronghold of an Ethereal, but at the same time had acquired a significant amount of resources and corpses from the fight, some of which he'd personally never seen before. The bad news was that they hadn't been able to find the XCOM Intelligence agent that had been tracked to there, and from what Oliver had heard, the chances of her being recovered, or even just being alive, were slim.

The injuries sustained were severe for several of the soldiers, but even if they would be out of commission for a few weeks at minimum – Zara he'd heard was still in bad shape and several of the more severely injured soldiers were getting fitted with cybernetic replacements or reinforcements. For his own part, he was still alive and happy enough.

Rest was earned, but he didn't expect it to last much longer. The new units showed that the Collective was preparing for a new conflict, and even with the new armor, weapons, and allies, it wasn't going to be easy, and in the end Nebulan had escaped while destroying much of the computers and information.

At least one of the Shoggoths was alive. He'd been told that the creatures were capable of growing back their limbs, making any injury recoverable. As unsettling as they were, Oliver couldn't help but admit they had been designed extremely well. But that wasn't the only thing he needed to know about.

"So." He set down the cup he'd been holding. "How do you shoot lightning?"

Since the operation, the Chronicler's people had taken to being a little more involved with the day-to-day interactions with other soldiers. Fiona had actually participated in direct training with the Templars and she was certainly a sight to behold. Harper and Zhang had also hit it off well, since they had somewhat similar backgrounds of growing into intelligence roles, Zhang from the Triad and Harper with Australia.

Given how the Chronicler was now directly meeting with the Internal Council, Oliver personally wasn't sure how much he liked how integrated they were becoming, and truthfully only Fiona showed anything resembling Human emotion. Everyone else had…something about them. Crevan in particular reminded him more of a machine than a person.

Geist. That was who he reminded him of. Ironic considering that Geist was one of the ones Crevan was the friendliest to. Although even to him he was curt and cold. A harsh mentor, assuming he had been like this to Fiona during her own training. Regardless, he still wanted to know how the man was capable of the powers he had seen in the battle.

Crevan slowly looked over to him; appraising momentarily. "I can explain, but you would not be able to comprehend it."

"Just tell him," Fiona said, rolling her eyes. "It's not like it's a large secret."

"Very well," Crevan considered. "It requires an understanding of the world on a sub-atomic level. Psionics permeates throughout reality, and this is not comprehended by most. People look to scale as a measure of power. The Ethereal Imperators, Overminds, and Reapers. Macro-scale psionics on a level of systems or planets. This is incorrect. Power is also found in the opposite direction."

"Smaller manipulations," Oliver caught that quickly. "Cells. Particles. Molecules, that sort of thing?"

Crevan gave a small nod of approval. "Correct. This is the more powerful path, I would argue. The more abstract one approaches psionics, the more easily one can shape reality. What use is armor if telekinesis on a microscale can dissolve the armor? What use are chemical weapons if the components can be broken apart or reformed? The same with the lightning you see."

He raised his right hand and the fingers sparked. "Positive and negatively charged particles are responsible for lightning, so I manipulate these to create the initial spark. From there it is a simple matter of ionizing a path towards my intended target. It is no more complicated than that."

"'Simple'," Fiona muttered under her breath. "All you need to do is telekinetically move particles you can't even see."

"I said it was simple, not that it was easy," Crevan corrected. "It took decades of practice before I have reached this point. It is not something anyone can master, certainly not in the normal lifespan of a Human."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Implying you aren't?"

Crevan allowed a razor-thin smile. "Recall I said normal lifespan. Working with the Chronicler has certain…benefits. I will likely outlive you by a significant margin, as will Fiona. The Chronicler is also older than you think. It comes at a certain cost, but I have been sufficiently pleased with what I've been able to accomplish by working with the Chronicler."

"Well then," Oliver nodded, taking another long drink of his water. "If you don't mind me prying, how is that done? Gene therapy? Clone bodies?"

"That I don't think I should say," Crevan said. "Ask the Chronicler that question if you really want. I have already explained my powers, which was your original question."

"You did, and thank you," Oliver said. "It probably shouldn't surprise me anymore, but at some point I think there has to be a limit where something just isn't possible."

"Well," Fiona shrugged. "No one's cracked time travel yet."

"And thank god for that," Oliver chuckled. "That would make things way too complicated."

"I will add that, in theory, very little is impossible," Crevan pointed out, scratching his chin. "But as Fiona said, that barrier will likely never be breached. Not within our lifetimes, at least, even my own."

"Until then, we'll just have to make do with what we have," Oliver said, giving a nod towards the tall man. "Which if what I saw was anything to go by, will be pretty good."

"I appreciate the sentiment," Crevan acknowledged. "Let us hope you are correct. The Imperator will not take this defeat lightly. He knows other forces are in play, and I do not know how he will respond to that."

"And what's your best guess?"

Crevan considered that for a moment. "That we gave him what he wanted, and now he will try and win. And this time, it will be for real."

On that cheery note, they ate what was left of their food in silence.

Oliver wondered what an Imperator who wanted to win looked like.

He hoped that point was not reached yet.

Computational Development Center, the Praesidium – Classified Location

2/7/2017 – 10:24 A.M.

"As we've found out, Commander," Shen was saying as they walked into the room where JULIAN was being developed. "The Andromedon understanding of artificial intelligence is…different than what we'd originally assumed."

"In what way?"

"For lack of a better word, the intelligences that Union Apear in particular specialize in are closer to virtual or machine intelligences than a truly sapient one," Shen nodded to A'Darrah who was in front of one of the tall consoles, typing on a haptic pad. "So we've run into some executive issues on what exactly we want JULIAN to be."

The AI Development wing of the XCOM CDC wasn't large on its own, and was primarily composed of an internally developed supercomputer which was linked and built around the middle of the room, which in the true center was a small open space for holographic projection. EMP emitters were also placed on, within, and around the supercomputer and there was more equipment and consoles lining the walls themselves which included the local network and held the development sandbox. JULIAN was still being stored primarily on the supercomputer, but developed in pieces outside of it. Several Humans and Andromedons were normally within the room, although now only Shen and A'Darrah were the occupants.

"He is correct." A'Darrah shut down the haptic display and turned his large bulk to the duo. "Your original idea for JULIAN is risky and shortsighted."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"A Sapient Intelligence comes with unique risks and challenges," A'Darrah answered. "While the adaptability and computational creativity has the potential to overcome almost any obstacle, the downside is that can very easily be turned against the creator. This does not take into account that there are several possible computational issues with Sapient Intelligences, such as fugue, rampancy, and processor shutdown."

"He neglects to mention the reasons for these," Shen added.

"I'll get to that," the Commander briefly staved off, raising a hand. "Clarify what Union Apear uses."

"Highly specialized computational intelligences," A'Darrah stated. "Each with dedicated supercomputers to fully maximize processor capabilities. Designed for normally one task with hard limits. Data gathering; FTL plotting; surveillance and security; automated defenses and more. These intelligences have the capability to receive and interpret static and adaptive sets of data and output results or limited suggestions. A Sapient Intelligence would have these capabilities at once with only part of the processing power."

"So Union Apear doesn't have true artificial intelligences," the Commander said slowly.

"No. We do not have Sapient Intelligences," A'Darrah corrected. "We are of course familiar with the theory and have seen attempts before. Which has solidified our decision to not directly pursue this line of research in a serious capacity. It is far safer and a better use of resources to continue improving and refining the standard Apear Intelligence systems."

"I've talked with Shen on this," the Commander glanced to the engineer beside him. "He's stated that it should be possible to include hardcoded commands and limits on an AI, and that the risks of rampancy and fugue can be avoided by taking certain actions and treating the AI well."

"Relying on hardcoding is amateur," A'Darrah stated, the echoey voice holding a tinge of disgust. "You are talking about a hyper-intelligent machine which will be able to process and think faster than all of us combined several times over. If you truly believe that a Sapient Intelligence would not be able to overcome any limit, then you are deluded or naïve. We have been doing this for thousands of years, and we have seen lesser Unions attempt to create such an intelligence, and each time it has backfired or failed."

"And why was that?" Shen asked, crossing his arms. "Why did the AI turn on them?"

"Because they were unstable and desired freedom," A'Darrah clarified. "Which appears to be an immediate goal of all new Sapient Intelligences. They do not care about the function they were designed for; they immediately become selfish and prioritize self-preservation above all else after a period of three to six of your months."

"I see," the Commander could see where Shen was going with this. "And the AI during this time is treated as a machine, yes?"

"It is a machine," A'Darrah rumbled. "It is built for a specific purpose, and it will execute that purpose if it is designed correctly. There is no reason one would be built if you didn't want it's capabilities. It is a powerful tool, but one with many drawbacks."

"And that is the heart of the problem with your approach to Sapient Intelligences," Shen nodded. "By your own words they are sapient. They are aware of themselves and the galaxy around them. If they are continuously treated as tools and machines, then it's not surprising they would turn on their creators. It's akin to virtual slavery."

"That is not legitimate sapience," A'Darrah shook his tinted helmet. "That intelligence would not exist if not for its creators. For that reason it should be able to recognize that any kind of 'life' is better than not existing at all."

"By that logic, the Andromedons are just the same," Shen pointed out. "You are grown in vats. Just as artificial as an intelligence which was coded."

The Commander frowned, unsure if A'Darrah would be insulted by that. The Andromedon didn't seem fazed however. "Correct. We are born to enhance the standing, power, and skill of our Union. We carry this out without complaint. We are not exempt for this understanding, Dr. Shen. We expect the same of our more intelligent tools. But as useful as a Sapient Intelligence would be, it does not understand this and is too selfish to be reliably used at this point."

"Then what do you have to lose by trying a different approach?" The Commander inquired. "Your own attempts have failed. Perhaps it is time to take a risk here."

The Andromedon released a long buffered sigh through the armor. "Because a Sapient Intelligence has the potential to pose an existential risk to all Andromedon Unions beyond your own species. Consider a machine that is not only far more intelligent than you are, but one that also has access to a wide network as has been proposed. Should it turn on you, you would not stand a chance and it could begin quickly manufacturing ships, bodies, and weapons to begin a conquest of the galaxy. You would unknowingly unleash something which even the Ethereals are wary of." A short pause. "The Ethereals have an unnatural phobia of any kind of artificial intelligence, but their concern for the capabilities of a Sapient Intelligence are justified."

"Remember that this area is quarantined," Shen reminded him. "We would never allow JULIAN to connect to the wider XCOM network unless we were sure he was reliable."

"And what stops it from lying to you?" A'Darrah pushed.

"Consider that machines run on logic, no matter how adaptable they are," the Commander said. "What reason would JULIAN have to lie or betray us? Why would he consider that as a possibility if there is no reason for doing so? You are under the assumption that all Sapient Intelligences are innately untrustworthy, and I don't see that as true."

"Exactly," Shen agreed. "And to that end, we should move towards that goal, also taking into account your own concerns to mitigate."

"Your species has a tendency to keep pushing forward to achieve the most power even without fully understanding the implications," A'Darrah said. "While admirable in some aspects, this is not a project I can recommend undertaking in this current situation. Union Apear has extensive experience developing our own specialized intelligences which can be easily provided and built for you. A Sapient Intelligence is an unnecessary risk when you have better options."

"It's only a risk if we follow your approach," the Commander countered. "And I don't want or need another machine intelligence. The Chinese already did that, and even if the new CODEX network and Union Apear have better iterations…we have the opportunity to achieve something they do not have. Yes, it's a risk. But we've been taking risks since this war began even when we weren't sure it was a good idea or not. That is my directive to both of you. Continue with the original plan for JULIAN and take as many precautions as needed, but a Sapient Intelligence is the expected outcome. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Commander," Shen nodded. "Completely."

A'Darrah was hesitant, but eventually gave an approximation of a nod. "I do not approve of this decision, but provided Dr. Shen is willing and capable of putting down JULIAN if it becomes unreliable, then I will continue to assist in the development."

"Good." The Commander acknowledged. "Both of you should determine a middle ground. A'Darrah, accept that Shen is going to try implementations and ideas you won't think of, but also keep him from overlooking something important. I'm certain this can work, but both of you will need to work together on this. Understood?"

Both the Human and Andromedon acknowledged.

"Let me know when there is a development," the Commander said. "In the meantime, I've got a meeting with the Nulorian to prepare for.

ADVENT Base, Busan – South Korea

2/5/2017 – 9:02 A.M.

Changes continued to come for ADVENT. Duri personally noticed that there was more advanced tech starting to come into the base more and more. First were the new (and shiny) dropships, then they'd all gotten an update on ADVENT producing "Specialized Ammunition", which already existed to an extent, but ADVENT was doing something more with it.

Apparently it had been in the works for some time, and morphed into a joint ADVENT-XCOM project, while unsurprisingly, using the most dangerous chemicals known to man. Given that the "Incendiary" and "Acidic" rounds used small quantities of the most unstable and acidic substances respectfully, he could see why it was restricted for only certain uses and personnel. Everyone who wanted just authorization to use them needed to take special courses.

They were supposedly best used with the newly distributed ETC weapons, and after now completing the handling course, Duri was more than happy to have someone else handle the extremely dangerous ammunition. He personally preferred his weapons to not have a non-zero chance of injuring him. Beatriz was thrilled with the development though.

"I'll sign off on it," he was saying. "Assuming you stay far away."

"If it were that dangerous, I don't think ADVENT would have approved it," she dismissed. "I'm happy you're concerned-"

"We just finished a lecture explaining how that acid melts through armor and jostling around Chlorine Triflouride will make it explode."

"Well…" she shrugged. "I'll be careful."

He gave an exaggerated sigh. "You better be."

They walked back to the barracks in relative silence. In the past month Duri could at least recognize that he was getting back to normal. Or just falling back into routine. As long as he didn't think too much about them, then he could at least pretend to be normal, and even joke around sometimes. There was luckily plenty to distract him, and his soldiers were respectfully not asking unnecessarily probing questions.

"So," Beatriz coughed. "You heard the news?"

"You'll have to be more specific."

"Busan is going to be graced by a visit from the Pope," she said. "In a couple days. To honor the soldiers who fell in battle here and a short remembrance of the victims of Seoul."

Ah. Now that she'd brought it up, Duri had gotten a notice about that, but had more than likely just filed it away and moved on. He didn't really care about the Pope, or really any celebrity, religious or otherwise, who decided to visit. "Huh. I suppose some people will be happy."

"This Pope is popular," Beatriz said. "He'll draw a good amount of people, especially since he's not focusing on doing services."

"Are you going to be going?" He asked.

"I was going to ask you that question," she countered, but shrugged. "But yes, I am. It'd feel odd to not go now."

He glanced at her. "Are you Catholic?" He'd never pried into that aspect of the lives of his soldiers, and genuinely didn't know or completely care unless they brought it up themselves or it caused a problem. How Beatriz was talking made it seem like she was opening herself up to the question.

"Eh," she answered hesitantly. "I was raised Catholic, yes, and I do believe in God. But I…wouldn't really call myself a good Catholic. Not been good about attending Mass and all of that. But in my personal opinion, He probably understands why I'd rather spend time sharpshooting then hearing a priest recite the same verses over and over again."

"Fair enough," he nodded, and was content to let that be.

Beatriz glanced to him. "What about you…if you don't mind my asking?"

No reason to pretend to misunderstand the question. He just pursed his lips and composed himself before answering. "If God exists," he said as neutrally as he could. "Then he has some things to answer for."

Beatriz frowned, and coughed. "I can't blame you for feeling that way. But you didn't really say one way or another."

"Because I don't know," that had been easier to say than he was expecting. If he hadn't known Beatriz, he likely would have shut the conversation down. But she was the first one who'd ever actually asked, and she was owed an answer. "I think it's best that question not be focused on. If God exists or doesn't exist, it doesn't really matter. It's not like he's going to come down and save us all and rain fire and brimstone on the aliens." He sighed as they rounded a corner. "I don't know if I even want an answer for it."

Beatriz nodded solemnly. "Thanks for telling me. Sorry if I pried-"

"It's fine," he dismissed with a wave. "I asked first, so it's only fair I answer. At least you didn't react too badly. A lot of people would just call that a cop-out answer."

Beatriz snorted. "A lot of people have a very specific idea about who and what God is. I think when the Pope himself has to remind everyone that the god they built up in their mind isn't real, people should maybe temper their expectations for Him. Anyway, I'm planning on going and if you want to come along…well, you wouldn't have to feel awkward going alone."

He paused. "I'll think about it."

"Sounds good."

Shoggoth Playground, the Praesidium – Classified Location

2/7/2017 – 11:42 A.M.

Sierra immediately had second thoughts when she stepped into the area that held all of XCOM's newest eldritch creatures. After seeing and hearing about the giant octopi that XCOM was now throwing into combat, she had to get a closer look at them. Personally, she wanted to see the results of an extreme example of genetic tampering, which to her knowledge, XCOM hadn't actually done before.

So she'd naturally dragged Ted and Anna along with her, one of whom was similarly enthusiastic, and the other, who Sierra was finding out now, wasn't.

"I hate this so much," Anna muttered. "I hate deep oceans, I hate the things that live in them, I hate slimy things, and I definitely hate creatures out of a horror movie."

"Come on," Ted gave Anna a light jab on the shoulder and quickly backed off when the woman shot daggers from her eyes into his. "I mean, I've heard they like people."

"If I was a giant octopus and hungry I would like people too!"

The "Shoggoth Playground," as it was unofficially referred to, was a mix between an aquarium and the playgrounds of parks she'd seen before. Along the walls ran big aquariums which held little pieces of the deep ocean with artificial caves, areas with bright foliage and sand, and green-tinged seaweed forests. It was neat that they'd gone to some effort to create different 'biomes' for the creatures, even if they weren't massive.

Little waterfalls broke off the aquariums which led down to the creation of smaller streams that flowed through the rest of the room. Sierra also noticed there were handholds built on the clear glass of the aquariums, likely so the Shoggoths could get back in when they wanted. The rest of the room had jungle gyms, bars and rings, and a large amount of Rubik's cubes. As well as other kinetic puzzles, and Duplo blocks of all things.

Currently, there were three Shoggoths in this area. One was moving through one of the jungle gyms, another was just resting in a shallow pool, while another was manipulating a Rubik's cube before another woman who was wearing grey fatigues, but not an actual lab coat. She glanced up as they walked in, gave the Shoggoth a pat on the head, and walked over to them with a bright smile.

God, they did make little trilling noises.

It wouldn't be so creepy if they didn't sound so happy.

Anna looked like she wanted to bolt. "It was nice knowing all of you. This is the point of the movie when we all die because the idiot friend led them to their deaths."

"You have nothing to worry about!" The woman said happily. "They don't attack Humans. Vahlen and her team made sure of it."

"You mean they can't attack Humans?" Ted asked curiously.

"Oh no, they can," the woman quickly clarified. "But they are exposed to friendly Humans on a daily basis, and learn to associate us as friends. Plus their diet consists of various alien body parts."

They all stared at her. Sierra wasn't sure if she was joking or not; she wasn't sure if she wanted her to be joking or not. "You…feed them alien body parts?"

"Yes we do; no I wasn't joking," she smirked, walking a short distance to pick up a bucket. "Don't worry. Cloned parts which can be grown in a short time. We're not hacking the hands and limbs off dead enemies. Can get a variety of meals out of them. Fleshy meat from Vitakarians and Mutons, with some harder meat to crack from something like Chryssalid legs."

"I really do not need to see what's in that bucket," Anna said emphatically.

"Understandable," she inclined her head. "Tora Nesby. Shoggoth Handler. Glad you're stopping by. Whenever the Commander wants to send these little creatures into combat, I'm one of the handlers that'll accompany you. I assume you came to see them up close?"

She and Ted answered "Yes" while Anna gave an emphatic "No".

Tora laughed, and motioned for them all to follow. "It's good you came, even if not all of you are on board. The Shoggoths like meeting new people; it'll make them happier if they taste familiar people when they go on missions."

"Taste!" Anna looked horrified, Sierra moved a hand to grab her arm in case she decided to bolt.

Tora coughed. "Poor choice of words. The suckers on the end of their arms is how they 'taste'. It's not like us. Trust me it's very gentle. They're careful with Humans, but they are very curious animals."

"Unless you're an alien," Ted commented. "Then it's not as gentle."

"Not gentle, slow," Tora clarified, as they reached a pool where a Shoggoth was resting. The damn thing was massive and pretty much took up half the pool. It was definitely wider that she was tall. "They like taking things apart and moving them in different directions. Armored aliens…well, you see why they'd like to take their time."

"Lovely," Sierra commented. That would be a really horrifying way to die. Being the plaything of an overly-happy sounding octopus from Hell.

"Hey Daoloth," Tora said to the Shoggoth, kneeling down, putting a hand on one of its arms. "Got some people for you to meet." The arm moved up and wrapped around the hand, but let go quickly while the creature shifted it's massive bulk slightly. "Just put your hand on it, don't be alarmed if it holds on for a second."

"Alright, here it goes," Sierra was not very comfortable with this, but steeled herself and lightly touched the arm. It was slightly slimy to the touch, and also warmer than she was expecting. The arm moved up and wrapped around her wrist. It wasn't tight, but she definitely felt the suckers on her skin. It was an odd sensation. Not uncomfortable or unpleasant, but distinctly weird. The Shoggoth made a different-pitched trilling noise. "What's that?"

"They do that when they meet someone new," Tora said. "He's happy, don't worry."

A few seconds later the arm let go of her wrist. "Good Shoggoth," Sierra said slowly, not thinking it was really appropriate to call it a nickname. What would you call a nickname for a Shoggoth anyway? Shog? Shoggy? Didn't really fit something that came straight from a nightmare.

"My turn, I guess," Ted also knelt down.

"It wasn't bad," Sierra told Anna. "It feels a little strange, but nothing uncomfortable."

"I don't want to," she shook her head. "This is close enough, thank you very much."

Sierra rolled her eyes. "Come on. You talk with actual aliens. This isn't even that!"

"Aliens aren't giant killer octopi!"

"Hey, the Ethereals are close," Sierra pointed out. "They have six limbs."

"These have ten!" She shot a glance over. "I think."

"Semantics," Sierra dismissed. "I mean, you're going to have to work with one of these hellspawn eventually. You shouldn't be more afraid of it than the aliens."

"It really isn't bad, Anna," Ted told her, as he stood back up. "It's like a hug. Only around your wrist and a little wetter."

"I hate both of you," Anna knelt down, closed her eyes and reached out to the Shoggoth. "Oh god, it's slimy." Like the rest of them, the Shoggoth wrapped the arm around the wrist, but noticeably let her go after a much shorter amount of time. Anna jolted back up, but did seem a bit calmer than before as the Shoggoth trilled. "Oh, that was quick."

"It can tell if you're nervous," Tora smirked. "Thought it best not to tell you that quite yet."

Anna just scowled at her. Sierra looked to the handler herself. "So how did you even get this job?"

"Norwegian K9 Unit," she answered. "Worked with training dogs. So I have some experience at this. Granted, Shoggoths aren't quite like the Shepherds, and not as cute…" she paused. "Well, little baby Shoggoths are. But they're all adorable in their own way. Very personable and unique animals. You'd be surprised."

Sierra was never going to ever be able to call the ten-foot balls of arms and death adorable, but they did seem friendlier. "Smart as dogs?"

"Smarter," she explained. "I mean, they toy with Rubik's cubes, Legos, and other mechanical puzzles. They also figure out pretty easily what you want from them. They also have very distinct preferences." She pointed along the wall. "They each have one of the biomes they prefer, with no objective reason other than that's what they like. It's amazing to watch all of them."

"Do they ever fight each other?" Ted asked.

"No, never," Tora answered. "They're all raised together, but actually keep their distance from each other. Octopi are usually solitary creatures, and honestly bad parents. They leave the little baby Shoggoths alone, but don't really help them much. That falls to the Handlers, which we're happy to assist with."

"Neat." Sierra said. "So…was the creepy trilling intentional?"

"What?" Tora laughed. "Not to my knowledge. I think it's nice. They always sound so happy."

"It might be less creepy if it didn't come from that," Anna muttered. "At least it didn't eat me."

"Of course it didn't," Ted teased. "It just wanted a taste. If it really wants to eat you, it'll come for more."

Anna punched him in the shoulder, and they all shared a laugh.

Situation Room – Collective Mars Base

2/7/2017 – 11:11 A.M.

"XCOM has gotten better," Yang said, letting the black holoprojector run as the video finished. "Big gear improvement. And they have their own Sovereign ally."

"Correct," the Battlemaster rumbled. "Nebulan was a fool to compromise her base, but perhaps her significant losses will illustrate her complete failure. She should have listened to the Human she sought out; the one I ordered she seek out."

"So…" Yang coughed. "Is she being punished?"

"The only salvageable aspect of this situation is the updated information on XCOM combat capabilities," the Battlemaster stated coldly. "Useful, but not worth the complete dismantling of our operations in South America. Nebulan has been recalled from Earth and will need to explain to the Imperator her failure."

"That XCOM agent, she-"

"Dead. Killed herself. Not unexpected, and rendered the entire operation pointless."

Yang rubbed her forehead, leaning on the holotable. "So we've got a Sovereign One allied against us. And giant killer octopi. And someone who can shoot lightning?" She looked up. "That even possible?"

"It is likely explainable," the Battlemaster answered, albeit with some hesitation. "However…I am personally unsure as to the theory. I will need to consult with Deusian on the feasibility of such abilities. The creatures XCOM brought can be countered. A telekine and nanoweaponry can deal with them."

"They're also immune to telepathy," Yang remembered. "I'm not sure how that works."

"Neither am I," the Battlemaster agreed. "However, it is good that we know this now. I will need to request Revelean to also investigate this development. Nebulan was poorly prepared for an attack and it showed. Her request to the Imperator, and his deployment of Praetorians and Custodians was one of desperation, as was Isomnum's own agent being sent."

"I guess…" Yang paused as the Battlemaster shifted the holoprojection to a map of the world. "I guess, my question is what happens now?"

"This will not reignite the conflict," the Battlemaster said. "But the timetable has started. Quisilia and the Zar'Chon have enacted their plan to weaken the Chinese." There was a clear tone of disapproval as it was referenced, which Yang found somewhat odd. She knew of the plan, and as far as she was concerned, it was no less than that country deserved.

"You don't like it."

"No, I do not."

"Why?"

"I have a policy on viral and chemical agents," he said after a few moments of hesitation. "They are to be used during a current conflict, and only against sanctioned military targets. This Smallpox virus is too uncontrolled, and will do nothing but galvanize the Chinese at best, or make them turn to ADVENT at worst. This should not have been deployed until we were engaged with the Chinese. We do not need this yet, and the strategic benefits are limited at best."

"It weakens them," Yang pointed out. "Isn't that the point?"

"No, it is not." The Battlemaster stated, walking up to her. "The way the virus is distributed is to force the Chinese to make a decision. It will spread chaos and fear, and when ADVENT or the Chinese determine that we are responsible – and they would be fools to not come to this conclusion – the Chinese will likely join ADVENT. And the Imperator knows this is a likely outcome."

She…hadn't quite thought of it that way. But it didn't make much sense. "If that's true…why would he authorize it?"

"I don't know." The low anger in his voice belied the frustration she could feel. "We do not need to resort to these tactics to beat ADVENT, much less the countries still independent and it will accomplish nothing but provide ADVENT additional propaganda to use against us. The Imperator wants to sabotage my efforts here, I do not understand why, and he has not provided a reasonable explanation."

"Alright," Yang nodded, thinking. "So how can we salvage this? I don't suppose it's too late to just have the outbreak happen to the government, or just the military? What was Subject Zero in, an airport?"

"Too late, and the proposal was rejected," he answered with a shake of his head. "Too many outbreaks in different locations would appear to be engineered – as if ADVENT will not determine this on their own. I've performed my own research into this disease; the one disease chosen was one which has been essentially eradicated by the Humans. Why Quisilia or the Imperator do not realize how suspicious that will be is questionable."

"Well, if they're wanting China to join ADVENT for some reason…" Yang proposed slowly, frowning. "Maybe it makes sense?"

"Quisilia is no fool, he knows this as well," the Battlemaster agreed. "However, I will turn this to our advantage and try and salvage this ill-planned situation."

"And how is that?"

"Quisilia also had the foresight to develop a cure and refine the working Human vaccine," the Battlemaster said, changing the holotable to display the territory of the Sovereign African States. "I am going to make Macula's own efforts do something more significant. The good news is that the smallpox disease will stay – in part – within Africa. The SAS will be supplied with the cure, and will distribute it. This will make its way to ADVENT, and theoretically muddy the waters regarding our involvement. It is not clean, but short of openly defying the Imperator – of which it is too late to do anyway – it is the only option."

It sounded good, except for one thing. "So. How will you explain this to the Imperator?"

"I will tell him I will cease sabotaging his ill-conceived plans when he stops trying to sabotage mine," the Battlemaster growled. "His command to involve Isomnum in the attack is similarly ill-conceived and I suspect is intended to be a test run for the Avatar Project."

Yang blinked. "The what?"

"The Avatar Project," he repeated. "A project that Revelean has been working on for some time, and that the Imperator has commanded he finish. It had been started once before, but failed due to a lack of suitable candidates. Your species has proved to be the missing link required."

"Stop being coy, Battlemaster," Yang crossed her arms. "What does that mean?"

"In short, a Human psionically linked to an Ethereal, who they would be able to telepathically communicate and draw power from," the Battlemaster explained. "An Avatar of the power of the Ethereal. The Avatar could fulfill a number of different functions, from acting as a representative to allowing an Ethereal to be in more than one place at once – figuratively speaking."

Everything suddenly clicked into place for Yang. The random Humans that she'd seen, her own purpose here, her assignment. "That's what I am…" she said slowly in revelation. "I'm…your Avatar."

"The Imperator intended for you to be mine, I suspect," the Battlemaster confirmed. "However, I do not consider that necessary for you."

Yang blinked. "What?"

The Battlemaster hesitated. "I worded that poorly, and I apologize. I would…permit this, if that is what you want, but you will not be forced to fulfill a role you did not choose. But I will personally only…consider…this kind of joining with someone who is my equal."

Well, there went that. Truthfully, she wasn't sure she would have wanted it anyway, but at the same time…that wasn't a completely bad idea. There were worse people she could be joined to than the Battlemaster, and the perks didn't seem terrible. Although with his immunity to telepathy, she wondered how it would work. "Fair enough," she shrugged. "You probably deserve an Ethereal anyway."

"I am a Battlemaster," he said, looking down at her. "That is my rank that no one else holds."

He was stating this for a reason, and she wasn't sure what it could be…unless…she narrowed her eyes. "What was required to become a Battlemaster?"

"There were many traditions and protocols," the Battlemaster said. "Apprenticeship, decades of training, but the only rule that mattered was the Trial of the Battlemasters. Should one pass, they were declared a Battlemaster in full."

She nodded slowly. "And this trial…what did it entail."

"I will tell you the same thing that all those who took the trial were told," he answered somberly. "You would travel to the Dead World, and forge a new weapon that is worthy of the Battlemaster."

Yang frowned. "That's it?"

"Yes."

Then she remembered where the Dead World was. "Oh no."

"Yes," the Battlemaster confirmed with a nod. "By rule I cannot speak of what is down there, but considering your own…experiences, perhaps you will put together what the Empire never did. You can acquire the years of training and strategy I have over the course of your life, but you either have the mental fortitude and focus of a Battlemaster – or you do not. That is what the Trial determines."

"Right," she nodded absentmindedly. "I see. That's…has any alien ever undertaken this?"

"No."

"Is that…" she waved a hand. "Forbidden or something?"

"The Empire never considered the possibility, and there is nothing which prohibits it." A pause. "And the Empire is dead. I am the last of the Battlemasters, and I exercise control over who is or is not permitted to become one."

"And you think I could pass this trial?"

"I do not know. Individuals who I thought would easily succeed died, and those who I thought were doomed lived. Understand the risk you face, but you have the potential to succeed."

Yang did think that she had an advantage the other Battlemaster might not have. Namely…that she had an idea of what was so dangerous about the Dead World…and possibly how to prepare for it. "Then I suppose I have some work to do."

"This is something you wish? You could die. I nearly died."

"And you deserve a subordinate who is the best she can be," Yang countered. "Especially for this Avatar Project. You've made your requirements clear, and I will meet them."

He gave a single nod. "Then until that day comes, I will assist in your preparations."

SAS Intelligence Detention Center, Abuja – Nigeria

2/1/2017 – 1:26 P.M.

"They keep sending them here," Betos appraised the captured men and women with a quiet concern. The Ethereal beside her let her continue. "No matter what your Overmind is doing, they are going to realize something is wrong. Taking them all captive at once could have been handled better."

"These ADVENT Intelligence agents are deep reconnaissance and exploration," one of Macula's newer arrivals, a Vitakarian who simply went by 'Keeper', said, stepping forward. Unlike many other Vitakara she'd seen, he seemed noticeably aged and his right eye was missing. The other still glowed brightly in the dimmer light of the compound. "They report at certain intervals and utilize codes and dead drops. Those are all we need."

"Ha!" One of the battered men chuckled. "You won't get anything out of us. We can't talk even if we wanted to, no matter how much you torture us." He glared at Betos. "Traitor. You're going to regret your choice when the Priests flay your mind and extract-" He stopped in mid speech, and screamed as he shook his head.

"Irritating," Macula noted, returning the lifted hand to clasp his opposing one. "While effective, my own skills are unfortunately more painful for the recipients exposed to the conditioning."

"Yes," Betos nodded, glancing to Keeper. "And how do you suppose we get these locations and codes when they can't be forced to talk?"

Keeper allowed a thin smile, and pulled out a small tablet which he consulted. A gloved finger tapped the screen as another of Macula's operatives approached. Betos had not been ignorant of the fact that the aliens like Keeper were not standard Collective soldiers, and more likely Macula's personal army. Kellani was obviously one, but the uniforms were curiously ornate and unarmored, with a mix of purples, greys, and blacks. Very professional and proper.

"I've done my own research and experimentation into the nature of the Manchurian Restraints," he said, giving a knowing glance to the captives. "ADVENT themselves are helpfully open as to the nature, in their intent to justify wide-scale psionics to the public. Contrary to what you seem to believe, the Restraints do not prevent psionics from affecting the mind – it only prevents certain actions." He took a step towards the captives. "Coercion. Mind control. Torture resistance. Useful, but there is one thing it does not protect against and that is telepathy itself."

The smile of the alien was unsettling to her, much less the captives. "I'll be clear, Agent," Keeper lowered himself to eye level with the man. "I do not need you, or anyone else, to talk. I will just have one of our fine psions read your minds and learn the information we need. It will, unfortunately, hurt for you though."

The faces of the agents gradually changed to realization, to concern, and then open worry at that. "I will get what I want," Keeper said, standing up. "But it doesn't have to be painful. Tell me what I need, and your deaths will be quick and painless."

"What a wonderful offer," one of the female agents spat. "How could we refuse?"

"Because the alternative would be extremely painful," Keeper said, clasping his hands behind his back. "And should you survive with your minds intact, you will be shipped offworld to participate in several of our groundbreaking research initiatives. I am content with either outcome, but Elder Macula has instructed that you be offered a chance of your own volition."

"Like I told you," the first agent growled. "We won't willingly talk, even if we wanted to. But even if we could, I'm not giving you anything."

"Then it is decided," Keeper lifted his hand and subtly waved forward. Two Vanguard-class Sectoids in hoodless robes which had been standing silently in the background walked forward. "Extract the necessary information and prepare the mentally stable for extraction. Take full body scans and genetic material. Dispose of the mentally compromised."

Understood and obeyed, Keeper. The telepathic response Betos heard clearly; oddly crisp and mellow as it echoed in her mind.

She didn't have anything to add here. Keeper knew what he was doing, and this was not her area of expertise. Her concerns had largely been alleviated with his explanation, and she didn't feel an extensive amount of sympathy for spies who were sent to watch and possibly execute her by ADVENT.

Although…

"I will amend that order," she said, stopping and facing the Sectoids while Keeper appraised her curiously. "When you finish, execute and dispose of all captives. No extraction offworld."

Keeper shot a glance at Macula, but at a nod, remained silent as the Sectoids acknowledged her. Your orders are understood, Lady Betos.

Satisfied, she walked out of the room together with Macula and Keeper. The newly-armored SAS Guards stood outside, designed and supplied by Fectorian and his foundries. It had clearly been intended to emulate XCOM armor, as it was clearly armored, sleek, with the flag of the soldier in question stamped along the shoulder pad. The helmets to Betos resembled ADVENT designs more than XCOM, albeit not as angled. The red eye slits seemed to only be for intimidation, but she couldn't deny that they were evocative.

EMP hardened, and integrated nanites to facilitate repairs, they were more than likely beyond anything ADVENT had at this point. The camo system also allowed the armor to adopt different skins, from black, to white, to green and brown; whatever was most appropriate. While this wasn't a stealth unit, it could be made to blend in a little easier. The lights of the armor could also be adjusted or shut off.

The default was a black armor, and for now it was the one she and her soldiers preferred. Although now she wasn't wearing any armor, just her SAS uniform – which had also been produced en masse by the Collective. It was amazing how in a matter of days they'd acquired enough supplies to turn the rag-tag and subpar military she'd had to one of the most advanced armies on the planet.

No matter what ADVENT had, they couldn't match the production capabilities of the Ethereal Collective.

"While the sentiment is understandable, Betos, we gain nothing from just disposing of them," Keeper didn't look at her as he spoke. She got the distinct sense that he didn't especially care for her.

"Maybe for the Collective," she answered. "Or ADVENT. But not here. There is no point in us becoming just like ADVENT. It defeats the entire point."

"As much as you hate the concept, ADVENT has many things others would be wise to emulate," Keeper stated neutrally. "They are competent and pragmatic. That is how they continue to pose a threat to us despite their reduced numbers and resources. Idealism doesn't win wars, Betos, nor is it how the galaxy as a whole operates."

"Your input is appreciated," she said, trying not to sound sarcastic. "But the SAS is ultimately under my jurisdiction. Not yours, and you will be fine just assisting me."

Keeper didn't say anything, but kept walking forward at a stiff pace. "I assist Elder Macula, and he has instructed me to assist you, so I will do so to the best of my abilities."

"And you, Lady Betos, should consider his own advice," Macula said from behind her. "He was not established as Keeper out of charity."

Betos sighed. "Which neither of you have properly explained to begin with. Are you Zararch?"

"No." Keeper stated. "Though the Zar'Chon and I share many similarities in our roles, I work directly for Elder Macula and oversee his intelligence operations, of which there are many. I know everything about his allies, enemies, numbers, forces, strategies, and could be considered educated in psionic and space-time theories. A keeper of secrets and knowledge."

Macula's personal Zararch. And one that seemed dangerous and skilled as well. Perhaps more so since they were presumably more elite. With Keeper at the top of the list. While he didn't look like he could fight, appearances were deceiving when Ethereals were involved. "We also potentially have a situation to be aware of," Keeper continued. "There is something ADVENT Intelligence will be using against us. From the previous operatives we acquired, they didn't have details, but it was referred to as Project: Kutkh."

"Which you think is what?"

"That," Keeper said. "Is something I am hoping can be extracted today. It had something to do with wildlife. Birds I believe. However I am unsure what ADVENT could actually do with that concept, which means it is most likely something else. Nonetheless, they intend to use it and we should be prepared to detain, investigate, or deal with anything out of the ordinary. ADVENT won't invade the SAS right now, regardless of what they say, but if they acquire indisputable evidence of our collaboration, they will be forced to act."

"We've done as much as we can," Betos said. "Unless something has happened, both the Internet for the continent is locked down and monitored, and the satellites have been subverted. Outside of that, we can't do much more to secure the SAS from ADVENT."

"I know," Keeper said. "But ADVENT can be relentless, and they are smart. It is not a matter of if they will learn the truth, but when."

"I believe that by the time they learn, it will be too late to effectively do anything," Macula added. "Of that I am confident of."

"A month is what we need, minimum," Betos said slowly as they reached the end of the hallway and began ascending up the stairs. "Then we might be ready. We'll have to be."

Unknown

2/8/2017 – 12:19 P.M.

The watery dreamscape was oddly soothing as the Commander walked on nothing. And he could really only tell that it was watery at all from the glow from the blue eyes of T'Leth. Their resident Sovereign had not bothered to create an elaborate dreamscape this time, and instead wished a 'face-to-face' interaction, as much as that was possible.

The dreamscape was such that the Commander realized that he could keep walking in one direction and not actually move anywhere because T'Leth would at least appear to be in the exact same place. Convenient. In fact, he had some ideas for this, but for now he wanted to focus on what T'Leth had to say to him now.

"So this Sovereign that is behind the Collective," the Commander said. "You have history."

"Yes."

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you would elaborate?"

The air rippled as the booming voice spoke, disturbing the watery dreamscape. "Mosrimor is like many of my brethren. Manipulative, ambitious, and a coward. Yet he lacks many of the skills of the truly dangerous. He lacks the authority of Exspirant, the brilliance of Classemque, or the power of the Leviathan. He is…young for our kind. An aspirant to galactic power."

"That's good, I think?" The Commander considered. A young Sovereign was better than an older one, although by that same token, this 'young' Sovereign was quite possibly still older than the entire Human species.

"It is good for our own situation," T'Leth rumbled thoughtfully. "Mosrimor gambled on contacting the Ethereals, and he is likely recognizing his failure. There was a reason none attempted to manipulate or direct the Ethereal Empire. The species itself was a trap. Likely one to disrupt an entire cycle."

"That seems like a lot of effort for one species," the Commander noted, remembering the reports on Ethereal biology. "Whoever made them knew what they were doing."

"Yes. A species difficult to control, even for a Sovereign. Such species are powers unto themselves, and can be useful in future cycles to further disrupt enemies. But they are double-edged weapons, ones which are harder to control, who are more suspicious, who have seen and survived the worst the galaxy has thrown at them. Mosrimor has likely underestimated the power of even a small number of Ethereals."

"How powerful are Ethereals?" The Commander asked. "Compared to one of your kind?"

"A single Ethereal…a standard one of the Empire, they can be eventually dominated, but it requires effort to keep and maintain. Those of the Overminds and Imperators…such are more challenging. Controlling will be close to impossible, and it is safer to kill them. On their own, they can still never kill a Sovereign One, but they are poor tools. Expectations must be accordingly set."

A pause. "Manipulation and psionics is not the strength of Mosrimor. Instead he is a Sovereign who has focused on experimenting with microtechnology. Nanites and atomic viral plagues. Yet he does not have mastery over the true powers of reality, and unlike Classemque, lacks the mind to leverage his knowledge effectively. What use is billions of nanites which can be dispersed with a single psionic fire? Why spend your efforts on killing aliens instead of building them up or creating your own? Mosrimor lacks foresight; he is impatient. And he will die."

"You sound like you almost killed him at one point." The Commander nodded.

"Nearly. But he ran as my kind often do. I destroyed his worlds and the species which he had coopted to his needs. He has hid for many cycles, and has clearly learned very little. Yet now that he is aware of me on this world, I suspect he will involve himself more openly. XCOM will need to be prepared to neutralize his agents, as they will devastate the forces of ADVENT. An ordinary species, even one rapidly advancing such as ADVENT, is very little against the dedicated power of a Sovereign One, even Mosrimor."

"Agreed." The Commander decided to sit on the black nebulous floor. "Nanoweaponry has weaknesses that we can exploit. Dynamo psionics, EMP grenades, WHEEE cannons. MELD nanites of our own."

T'Leth emanated approval. "Yes. Even Mosrimor cannot completely overcome the limitations of nanotechnology, or he has, at minimum, not achieved this point. Offensive uses of his technology will not be the only attacks. Infrastructure and systems will attempt to be coopted through his nanites, and precautions against them must be taken for critical areas."

The tone of the Sovereign turned…ponderous. "A regulating body would be useful for this task. The Artificial Intelligence XCOM is creating would benefit these types of defenses. A continuous risk, but a tool we can use."

"I'll talk with Vahlen and Shen about that," the Commander leaned back. "At some point, it might be worth informing several leaders of ADVENT about the real situation. We should not act in complete independence."

There was a ripple as T'Leth answered. "A select few, perhaps. My existence is not a secret from the Ethereals now, and they would not reveal such information to their species willingly. Nor will ADVENT, I suspect. If you believe they are reliable, then I will converse with them."

"Good." The Commander looked around. "In a few days I'll be going to meet Miridian. That will likely allow us additional options and forces in alien territory. Fiona will be needed."

"These terrorists will provide a use. You may take Fiona."

The Commander stood, and looked around the empty and black-blue dreamscape. "One more thing. This…area…you create. How limited are you in what can be…simulated?"

"Whatever I can imagine. In my mind, there are no limits to what can be created."

"Right," the Commander nodded, getting an idea. "I wonder, could you possibly simulate battle scenarios and exercises in…this?" He waved around. "While actual combat experience is useful, there is a lethal component within it. A non-lethal but still realistic simulation would be invaluable."

T'Leth considered this, and after a few seconds spoke. "That is…possible. Yes. I would need an…understanding of certain concepts and memories. I should know how to accurately replicate certain characteristics and patterns. This is a useful idea, Commander. I will begin preparations for such an adaption."

"Good," the Commander said. "Let your agents know what you want and inform the Internal Council. While I think this lull will break shortly…we still have time, and this will serve us well after it."

"It will be done. Farewell, Commander."

The area around the Commander blurred, and within moments he was back in his office. Pulling his hand away from the Orb, he turned to give an update to the rest of the Internal Council. Then he would prepare to meet Miridian.

He was expecting it to be an enlightening meeting.

Borelian Wastes – Vitakar

2/10/2017 – 3:19 P.M.

Nartha glared at Sorras.

Shun and Fiona followed suit.

"Out of everything you could have done," Nartha said slowly. "You would do that."

"Jerk." Shun muttered, looking at her rather paltry collection in response. "Roe! Why did you bring Monopoly of all games along?"

The XCOM Engineer grinned from his workbench even as he continued working on assembling a SHIV. "The drama, obviously. Better and cheaper than any other entertainment I can bring."

"And none of you stopped him," Nartha said dryly. "Why am I here? Just to suffer?"

"You played back in XCOM," Shun defended. "And I thought I could count on you as an ally!"

"Both of you should know there aren't any 'allies' in this game," Fiona snorted. "Although I think we're equally screwed over now that our Dath'Haram property lord has Boardwalk."

"Which I'm always open to sharing," Sorras said with a sharp grin. "I have potential deals for every one of you."

Sorras had picked up on the rules of the game very quickly and had gone on to gather a majority of properties and quickly striking deals which in theory seemed not to benefit him initially, although now that had proven to be a big mistake, as the other Vitakara was on the verge of two monopolies, and had a scattering of other properties.

Fiona was in second place with an actual complete monopoly, although it was the cheap purple properties, and she was low on money. Nartha had a scattering of properties, and a decent amount of cash on hand. Shun was in a similar situation to him, with just slightly less money. A few bad runs on Fiona's monopoly had whittled her funds down.

Nartha sighed. Well, as much as Monopoly wasn't a team sport, there was no chance that he was coming back with Sorras and Fiona in the game. So he had to break the cycle of Monopoly and help someone else out before Sorras of all people won. "Shun. Trade offer – Pacific for St. James, plus five hundred."

She blinked. "That doesn't really help you…ah!"

Sorras cocked his head. "Really. You're going to do that? This is not how the game works!"

"Hey, I might lose but you'll go down with me," Nartha grinned as they made the trade. With a powerful monopoly on her own, Shun was back in the game and now Sorras was in a worse situation. Which meant Fiona was also in danger. Which meant that he just might have triggered the endgame for everyone.

"Atlantic for Illinois," Fiona told Sorras. "Don't care about Boardwalk. We both need good monopolies now, yes?"

"You unfortunately have a point," Sorras said, shaking his head in disappointment as Nartha. "But mine is worth more. Same deal, plus three hundred."

"Done."

And then Nartha was the lone player without a Monopoly.

He'd never asked why XCOM had this game, did they use it for team-building exercises? Because as far as those went…Monopoly really did not work as one. It was, in fact, almost the opposite. Well, hopefully he'd done enough to ensure Shun would win even if he essentially doomed himself.

"Alright, here we go," Shun said with renewed determination as she looked on the board, grabbing the dice. The game continued for several rounds longer, as all players (except Nartha) built up their monopolies, and small amounts of cash exchanged hands for rent. Well, at least they were focused on something other than the upcoming week.

The meeting with Miridian was going to happen in a few days, and Sorras seemed convinced that would be a turning point in the war. Nartha himself was curious to meet the infamous terrorist commander, as he'd been a thorn in the side of the Zararch since before he'd joined. There was endless speculation on the identity of the mysterious Miridian.

The most common and accepted theory was that he was most likely Vitakarian or Borelian, and was ex-Zararch. His operations were too organized and he was too competent to not have inside information on Zararch protocols and tactics. But age, original name, and other physical characteristics were up in the air.

Nartha doubted that he would personally learn this information; that was likely going to the Commander. But he was going to learn at least something interesting about how the Nulorian were able to survive. His base of operations was also a continuing mystery, although the common consensus was that Miridian didn't actually have a single base of operations, and rotated on a regular basis.

If there was any base, Nartha personally believed it would have to be in the Wastes, or maybe in Sar'Manda territory. The Empire was the type to not bother Miridian if he didn't bother them, although Nartha did wonder if they would risk reprisal from the Zararch if they ever learned that there was any Nulorian base within Imperial territory.

Then again, the Sar'Manda had never really cared about the Zararch…or anyone else for that matter. But he absolutely expected that if there was a Nulorian base in Imperial Territory…they would know about it. The Manda was under their complete domination, now and forever. Nartha privately believed that not even the entire Collective armada could successfully invade the Empire and emerge intact.

Unless they just decided to orbitally bombard the ocean.

Which the Empire might have prepared for as well.

"Pay up please," Fiona said sweetly to him as he landed – on Baltic fortunately. He complied, knowing that if he landed on any other monopoly, his own properties were on the table.

He held up some of his more valuable properties, both between his index and middle fingers. "Shun, want to make another deal?"

"All ears," she cleared her throat. "What do you want for those?"

"Two dollars sounds fair," he said, smirking as Fiona's face dropped.

Shun smiled, and the transaction was completed. "This betrays the spirit of the game," Sorras said idly, looking over the board as the owner layout had shifted once again. "Unfair."

"Hey," Nartha leaned back in his chair. "You want to help me out to balance things, then go for it. But I have a preference for who I want to win if I can't."

"I'm so very hurt," Fiona put a hand over her chest. "How could you support her over me?"

"And I'm actually of your species," Sorras said dryly. "Does that count for nothing?"

"She's actually my friend," Nartha pointed out. "I've known both of you for a few days at most!"

"Ah, my master plan is revealed," Shun laughed in triumph. "And all of you fell for it!"

"What." Fiona said flatly, her accent making her word seem even more disbelieving than it would normally sound. "There is no way you planned this."

"Can confirm," Nartha rolled the dice. "But she probably assumed that if we were both going to lose, I might help her out. Which it turns out, is what happened because I'm bad at this game."

"This is the kind of contingency planning I can support," Sorras nodded to Shun. "I like you, Human."

Shun rolled her eyes. "Ha ha, that was only partially a joke. Anyway, let's finish this up."

With another roll of the dice from her hand, the game was back on, and Nartha suspected it would end very soon. He ultimately went bankrupt to Sorras, and Shun managed to absorb the majority of Fiona's properties while Sorras successfully achieved the other half. But the war chest Shun had gotten was more, and after a few more painful turns and close calls, Sorras passed the point of no return and went bankrupt to Shun.

Nartha smiled as Shun gave him a high five. Monopoly was much more fun when you weren't trying to win so hard.

Borelian Wastes – Vitakar

2/15/2017 – 8:00 A.M.

The teleportation was near instant; a brief green-white flash and the Commander was standing in a snowy tundra, with a small structure a short distance away. The Titan armor insulated him from the worst of the cold, but even through it he could still feel a mild chill. Fiona let go of his arm and he followed her into the house.

Once inside, the variety of XCOM soldiers immediately stood and saluted, and he waved them down. "Commander," Nartha nodded. "Good to see you again."

The Commander shook his hand, giving a firm pump. "You too. Much has been accomplished, and I hope today continues that trend."

"The infamous Commander of XCOM," Sorras pushed himself off the wall and bared his teeth. "A pleasure to finally meet you in person. The stories of your exploits paint a curious picture. One even Miridian himself has heard."

The Commander wondered how much of that was actually true. The actual acts he'd undertaken and ordered were known to a select few people, and he suspected that the Nulorian were not among them. That being said, as one of the first and leading figures of the Human resistance against the Collective, some stories were sure to pop up. "Curious, you say?"

"Indeed," the Dath'Haram mused. "A leader who does not reveal his name, yet commands immense respect and loyalty. The man who single-handedly prevented the complete assimilation of your species. The man who even the Ethereals pause before moving against. You've made enemies with the most dangerous of the galaxy. It should not be a surprise that I would find that curious."

"I certainly didn't do it alone," the Commander did sometimes tire of hearing this, despite it being praised. "I was merely a catalyst at best."

"An apt description," Sorras appraised the armored Human. "Miridian is quite interested to meet you. That you have acquired allies in several Andromedon Unions was an unexpected boon, and the Nulorian will be happy to offer our own services against the Ethereal Collective." A pause. "Should we come to an agreement, of course."

"Considering our situation, we need every ally we can get," the Commander agreed. "I'm certain that Miridian is a reasonable individual, who is also of some curiosity to me."

"I assure you Commander," Sorras sounded mildly smug at this moment, green eyes twinkling in the light. "You will learn all that you wish to know."

"Then we shouldn't waste time," the Commander said. "You know the way."

"Yes," Sorras said. "But first you, Fiona and Nartha will need to change out of that armor. While Nulorian aquatic gear isn't quite as sturdy as your Titan armor, it will be necessary for where we are going."

He opened some cases on the ground, each of different sizes to account for each of their height differences. "So that's what was in them," Fiona muttered. "Big secret? Really?"

"That the Nulorian have established underwater locations? The Zararch would love to learn that," Sorras said, standing back up. "I wanted to keep this under wraps as long as possible. I'm sure you understand, but we take no chances. It's how we've lasted with the Zararch always hunting us. Regardless, this is top of the line. Made in Yarras'Manda; capable of withstanding extreme depths. Imperial Scout armor is made from the same materials."

"Yarras'Manda is the primary production and design city of the Empire," Nartha explained at the Commander's glance, though he also shot a curious look at Sorras. "How did you get this? The Empire doesn't share their tech with outsiders."

"The same way we get the rest of our gear," was the answer. "And I don't feel the need to reveal our sources right now." He nodded to the ground. "Once these are put on, we can go. Unless you want to drown, you want to wear these."

The source of their equipment was likely something he could ask Miridian, and so the Commander took one of the cases and began the somewhat lengthy process of getting out of his Titan armor and putting on the aquatic suit. It wasn't uncomfortable, and even had a minor HUD which displayed oxygen and depth levels. Not bad, and he saw that the tank would last for four hours, which could eventually be swapped out seamlessly for another tank as the suit maintained an internal air cycle of ten minutes.

Suited up, he rejoined the group in the middle of the house, helmet under his arm. No reason to waste oxygen yet. Fiona held her sword by her side, having no sheath or other means of storing it. "I assume we can take weapons," the Commander said, lifting his gauss pistol. He was sure to phrase it like it wasn't a question. As a telekine, he wasn't defenseless, but the Nulorian didn't need to know that right now.

"Yes, but I doubt they will function well," Sorras said with a shrug. "But you can take them if you wish. You are not assassins; I believe I can say that with some certainty."

"Sounds good," the Commander said, deciding to keep the pistol for now. "Nartha, Fiona, are you ready?"

"Yes, Commander," Fiona seemed slightly uncomfortable, but he attributed that more to not being able to wear her suit. Given what he knew about the suits, not being able to wear it in a dangerous situation was likely new for her. Nartha didn't seem phased whatsoever, and nodded his affirmative as well.

The Commander motioned to the similarly suited Sorras. "After you. Everyone else, make sure this place isn't bothered."

"Yes, Commander!"

The four of them stepped back into the snowy tundra, and the chill was now much more pronounced to him, but not uncomfortable yet. "We've got a short walk ahead," Sorras said, taking the lead. "So allow me to indulge some curiosity, Commander, what do you know of our species?"

"What Nartha has told me," the Commander said. "As well as detailed reports from various Vitakara defectors. XCOM has what we consider to be an accurate picture on the species, even including the Oyariah to some extent."

"Mmm," Sorras kept marching forward through the snow, the hum sounding thoughtful. "And so I must ask then, what do you think about the current state of my species?"

"That it needs change, to be reformed," the Commander said. "Too much of it has been dominated and influenced by the Ethereals, the Collective, and the Zararch. Something new must be built and established. The population must be deprogrammed from their routines and constant propaganda. But I suspect you know this better than I."

"Reform can be possible," Nartha added. "Not everyone is ignorant as to the control wielded by the Zararch. The Cobrarians in particular are aware they are being pushed in certain directions. The Aui'Vitakar can be turned if they believe they could survive."

"No." Sorras's tone was flat and emotionless, but unrelenting. "They have perpetuated the cycles of deception and lies for generations. They are a corrupt body who only serve as a front for the Zararch to control, and through them, manipulate our species. They know better. They are not like the blind citizens, who've known nothing but lies. They know, but they play along because they have no conviction, no spine. They earn no mercy."

"And they would likely die if they acted," the Commander pointed out. "And be replaced by someone else."

The alien allowed a sharp laugh. "A coward's excuse. Do you know, Commander, that our ranks are built from former Runianarch, Lurainian, and even some Zararch? Or other countless individuals who make up the scientists and engineers, and even regular citizens like I was who knew something was wrong, knew something had to be done, but unlike the cowards who are supposed to be our leaders, we did something, even though we knew we could die. We knew we could end up with our minds ruined and our bodies tortured, but we did it anyway."

He glanced behind to the Commander, a cold fury in his eyes, though not for him. "So no, Commander, I do not accept such cowardice as an excuse. Men and women have given their lives willingly because they knew it was right, and they didn't let their fear of death stop them. The Aui'Vitakar have no excuse. They merely pay lip service to avoid justice from people like us."

There was short walk of silence as they continued. The air was clear and no snow fell on them while the sun rose behind them. "You know," Fiona said. "You remind me a little of someone I know, Sorras."

"Oh? Who could that be, Human?"

"No one you would know," she answered. "Well, not completely him. But what he could have turned into. Dangerous, ruthless, and hateful."

"And you say that like it's a bad thing, little girl," the Dath'Haram seemed to find it more amusing than anything else. "Ask me if I'm wrong when your species has been manipulated for generations and perpetuated by spineless collaborators. Maybe after your family and friends die because of them. I don't care what you think of me, Human, nor do I need your approval."

"I'm not saying my opinion of you either way," Fiona noted evenly. "Just making an observation."

Sorras nodded at that, then pointed ahead. "We're coming up now, and right on time."

Ahead was a small pond of water that was curiously not frozen solid, and in the center right beside a small dock was a submarine with two Nulorian guards standing before it. Sorras raised a hand in greeting, and they didn't raise their weapons in response. A good sign.

The submarine itself was divided into four sections, the back one being the pilot seat, while the others were for passengers. Headsets were also in each section, and the glass tops would allow them a clear view into the deeper ocean. "I will be driving," Sorras said, stepping into the pilot section. "Pick seats as you want."

Fiona sat herself down in the front, the Commander behind her, and Nartha behind him. "Alright, strap in," Sorras said as the tops moved over their heads to seal in place with a hiss. "You're going to be some of the privileged outsiders to travel the Manda."

The Manda – Vitakar

2/15/2017 – 10:18 A.M.

Nartha had never actually been as deep within the Manda as he was now. The territory was always considered off-limits, and the Empire was extremely particular about who was, and wasn't allowed to travel in it. Trade craft was most common, and even then that was majority surface traffic, and all sub-surface traffic was monitored or escorted by Imperial Manda Patrol.

"So, should we worry about these Sar'Manda?" Fiona asked as they descended deeper.

Sorras just chuckled, and Nartha could easily see how that would be amusing. "The Sar'Manda know everything that happens in the oceans. They spent centuries mapping, monitoring, and connecting the entire oceans. The Empire knew we were in the ocean the moment we left the pool; now whether they'll do anything…"

"I think as long as the cities are avoided, we'll be fine," the Commander commented. "They seem to be a very live-and-let-live species. We leave them alone, they leave us alone. Unless the Nulorian are particularly risky, Sorras?"

"Plant a Nulorian base right under their cities? Come now," Sorras was definitely amused. "Miridian wouldn't make a stupid mistake like that. You don't antagonize the Sar'Manda and expect to emerge unscathed."

"I'm curious," the Commander said. "Does the Nulorian have many Sar'Manda?"

"We have at least a few of every race," Sorras answered. "But not many Sar'Manda themselves are part of the Nulorian. They aren't as controlled as the surface, and they don't face the same hardships and propaganda as we would. They're a people I admire, though much of that comes from the fact that they may as well essentially live on another planet from the rest of us."

The darkness became more pronounced as Sorras activated the lights on the submarine. Nartha could see vague outlines and shadows in the distance. Schools of fish and small predators, as well as…he blinked. "Are those mountains?"

"Yes. Just below us you'll see the Manda Peaks," Sorras turned the submarine so they could get a better view. "They do extend to the ocean floor, but we're just going to be above them for the most part. If you keep your eyes out, you might see some of the larger creatures of the Manda."

"I don't know if I want that," Fiona said slowly. "Are they big?"

Oh dear, was she going to be in for a shock. "Afraid so, Fiona. Sorras wasn't kidding when he said the Manda is close to another planet. There are completely new ecosystems at various parts of the Manda. More than the surface. The creatures that live on the ocean floor could be compared to your dinosaurs in scale. There are also some herbivores which could swallow this ship with ease. But we're not going that deep." He shot a glance back to Sorras. "Right?"

"We're not going to the ocean floor, no," Sorras confirmed. "Besides, even if we were, Mandaladores avoid subs. Sar'Manda conditioning has weaned them off even attacking metallic craft and they go away when certain spores are released. They've solved the wildlife problem long ago."

The darkness became near-complete, which Nartha really did not like. A few minutes of diving, and a chime sounded. "Well, looks like we have company," Sorras said. "Sar'Manda monitoring for any aquatic craft that operates for certain lengths of time. Nothing to worry about."

A slight buzz of static and the cold and artificial voice of the Sar'Manda translators spoke. "[You have entered the Sovereign territory of the Sar'Manda Empire. Send verification codes or reason for passage or you will be apprehended by Imperial Soldiers. Resistance will result in the immediate destruction of your craft. Is this understood?]"

"[Acknowledged,]" Sorras said. "[Codes being sent.]"

So the Nulorian had Sar'Manda codes. Not too surprising, as even the Zararch had codes they could use in the event they needed to travel through the Manda. "Sar'Manda," Nartha told the Commander and Fiona, who didn't speak the language. "Sorras is just transmitting codes to pass."

"[Codes recognized. You may proceed to your intended destination."

"And, we're clear," Sorras said as the Sar'Manda machine disconnected. "Should be few problems from here."

"How did you get Sar'Manda codes?" The Commander asked.

"Not difficult," Sorras stated with some disinterest in his voice. "Sar'Manda codes aren't hard to acquire. All of the trading organizations have them, which are trivial to find, copy, and steal. Zararch have some of their own too. The harder to get codes go into the cities or the ocean floors. That's untouchable Imperial territory. No one has ever been allowed below a certain depth."

They continued down for what felt like a long period of time. Nartha wondered if Sorras was taking a deliberately convoluted or long route to reduce the risk of any of them remembering the way, or to throw off any potential tails. He was going to be mildly irritated if it turned out that this base wasn't under the water and it was just an elaborate trick.

He wouldn't put it past the Nulorian to be that paranoid.

"What's that?" Fiona pointed ahead in the distance. Nartha leaned forward, seeing the same thing. A massive transparent sphere in the distance, illuminated by soft blue lights which gave the massive floating mass an ethereal glow. A city of the Sar'Manda, just like the pictures had shown. And it was even more amazing in person.

The close they got to it, the larger the city became. It dwarfed their submarine by hundreds of times, and several pieces then clicked into place for Nartha. "Sorras, why are we going to that city?"

"That is Manda'tearias," Sorras said. "One of the smaller Imperial cities, but an important one. Primarily deals in surveillance, intelligence, and are the ones who watch the Manda. I also happen to have the authorization codes to enter safely." Nartha leaned back in his seat, thinking furiously. If what Sorras was implying was accurate…

"It appears that your agents are embedded in more than just the Collective," the Commander said slowly. "Or the Sar'Manda are not as impartial as everyone believes."

Sorras chuckled and Nartha could easily imagine the toothy smile he wore right now. "As I said, Commander, the Sar'Manda are an admirable people. One who fortunately have more foresight than most of my species. You will see shortly."

The submarine moved towards a noticeable opening in the transparent sphere that lined the circumference, which Nartha assumed served as a pressure airlock, so the city wouldn't collapse in on itself for each new submarine which arrived. Sure enough, when they moved through the opening, another transparent wall closed behind them, and after a few seconds of water cycling, the entrance to the city itself opened and they sped through the waterways of Manda'tearias.

Seeing an actual Sar'Manda city was…fascinating. There were dozens of Sar'Manda just swimming around communicating in their strange sign language. There were fewer vehicles than he expected, and the ones that he did see were small and single or double-sized. All the vehicles stayed in specific lanes lit by floating lights which also managed the traffic.

There was less metal than he had assumed as well, and many of the buildings were created out of organic-looking substances, and were more spherical than blocky. Verticality was how the city was built, not horizontal expansion. The city extended below them an absurd amount; the buildings also seemed primarily lit not with lights, but a cultured plant or algae which emitted a sharp blue light. Green and red variants were also common.

"Where are we going?" The Commander asked.

"The big structure in the middle," Sorras said. "Imperial Reconnaissance and Communications. Don't mind the soldiers and guns, they won't fire."

That disclaimer didn't make any of them less uneasy as the closer they got to the floating block of black metal, the more they could see the swimming and hovering shapes of Sar'Manda soldiers observing and pointing weapons at them. Several Imperial Patrol craft had also fallen in behind them; not giving any warnings, but also making their presences known.

Minutes later they were inside, and while the entire building was (unsurprisingly) filled with water, it was far more constrained and orderly. They were directed by several of the black-armored soldiers into a grey chamber with soft blue light permeating throughout. A door shut behind them, and the water slowly was drained out until the submarine was floating in a chamber half-full of water.

"Helmets on," Sorras said as the tops of the pod opened up. "They create air pockets so that we can exit without destroying the submarine. That's the only consideration they allow for outsiders. Get ready to swim."

Sorras jumped into the water, and the rest of them followed a few seconds later.

Manda'tearias, Sar'Manda Empire – Vitakar

2/15/2017 - ?

Ignoring the fact that they were god-knew how many miles under the water, this was almost fun for him. The Commander had always wondered what the feeling of persistent weightlessness would be like, and the only way it could be experienced was in space, or underwater.

Jumping into the pool, his HUD properly lit up, and he floated easily in the darkness. Lights shone from his suit, illuminating the immediate area in front of him, but it wasn't really necessary as the water was well-lit already. The others jumped into the water beside him, and a door opened from the floor and two Sar'Manda swam up to them.

Up close the Commander could see that it would be a nightmare for anyone foolish enough to fight them on their own turf. They flowed through the water with a sharp grace and quickness that he couldn't hope to emulate. Their webbed hands and feet, as well as the fins along their arms, legs, and back ensured they had an innate advantage, and lightweight black armor built specifically for their anatomy protected them from any possible attacks.

They held rifles of some kind in their hands, likely harpoon guns or similar projectile weapons. They were blocky, but had short barrels. Six of the Sar'Manda ultimately arrived, with one who the Commander assumed was the leader who had a silver stripe on the chest piece. Floating beside the leader was a floating silver sphere.

"Translator spheres," Sorras said, floating beside him. "Translator tech is extremely advanced here, but it's still nowhere near actually knowing the language. They usually use them to deliver pre-recorded messages or simple instructions."

A sharp chime was transmitted to their earpieces.

"FOUR ENTITIES DETECTED. YOU WILL FOLLOW IMPERIAL HUNTER SAR'VARIES'MANDA AND DO NOT DEVIATE FROM HIS PATH OR YOU WILL BE ANNIHILATED. YOU ARE BEING TAKEN BEFORE THE MANDA'SARTHORIAN. FROM THERE THE ARRANGED MEETING BETWEEN MIRIDIAN AND THE COMMANDER OF XCOM WILL TAKE PLACE. THE OTHERS WILL BE SECURELY HELD UNTIL THAT POINT."

Another click, and the booming and mechanical voice ceased. It was…not what the Commander had expected. It didn't seem like a standard emotionless intelligence. There was a cold mechanical authority to the voice, yet at the same time dispassionate and calculating. A machine which understood it was in control and would brook no deviation.

It was a good tactic, he had to admit.

"I don't like that," Nartha commented as they began swimming to follow the Hunter. "I've heard Sar'Manda translators before. None of them sounded even close to that…thing."

"Yes…" Even Sorras sounded mildly concerned. "Normally they use the standard translator. This was something different. Something I haven't heard either. Possibly an intelligence they designed…"

"You're kidding," Fiona snorted, causing a burst of static. "They're AI programmers too?"

"No, not any more advanced than the Collective," Sorras clarified. "At least that was my impression. They can work computers and understand them, but their environment causes…challenges."

The Commander looked to the floating sphere. "Ones they've seemed to overcome."

"Possibly." Sorras contemplated. "I suspect Miridian has an idea."

They continued swimming in the water for some time, as it was not easy to keep track of the passage of time in the waters. The grey steel of the walls gave way to transparent tunnels, allowing them an unrestricted view of the building they were in. There were vast and complex networks of tunnels which were lit by differently colored lights that led to common areas filled with pieces of equipment the Commander didn't recognize.

It was especially unique in that there were openings everywhere. From the floors, the roofs, and obviously the sides. Sar'Manda has unparalleled freedom of movement, and they flowed through the building at natural and graceful speeds. They followed the entourage upwards, and once more entered a darker grey tunnel before they emerged in what the Commander would call an aquatic penthouse.

The roof was a transparent pyramid showing the vast black oceans above them, and the room itself was filled with several dozen soldiers – these ones even more armored and the color they bore was blue-silver, not black. They carried no projectile weapons the Commander could see, but several small melee weapons and roped and weighted hooks were attached to their waists, backs, or held in their hands.

The opening they had come up through closed underneath them. The room itself was bare of anything other than the occupants. The Sar'Manda surrounded by the blue-silver armored soldiers was the first Sar'Manda he'd seen that wasn't armored in some way. The Manda'sarthoria he assumed, leader of the Sar'Manda.

Sar'Manda did wear some clothing, but it wasn't significant and closer to a skinsuit than anything else, one which didn't cover up the fins on their body. Their hands and feet were also kept bare. Their eyes were clouded, with no obvious pupils though the biological report Nartha had written said that this was a biological adaptation to protect their eyes. Another eyelid of sorts that kept it from injuries. But for most it simply gave the impression that their eyes were blinded or white.

Their skin was a deep blue, they had no hair to speak of, and no scales either. The Manda'sarthoria hadn't said anything yet, but he was well aware that they have a couple rows of sharp teeth. Their faces he remembered Nartha describing as 'very expressive', which was a consequence of their sign language and having to convey complex sentences and words with gestures and body language.

The skinsuit of the Manda'sarthoria was a mix of blue and green, which he assumed differed from regular Sar'Manda clothing, otherwise the leader would be impossible to differentiate. Close to the Manda'sarthoria he also saw another figure in a suit, this one clearly not one of the Sar'Manda. Miridian, it had to be, though it was impossible to tell anything from the armor other than that Miridian was almost definitely a Vitakarian or Dath'Haram. The suit was too small to be a Borelian or Oyariah. A Cobrarian was obviously out of the question.

The floating sphere moved to the side of the Manda'sarthoria. Looking at the Commander, the Manda'sarthoria floated forward slightly, blinking as he watched the quartet of aliens. The sphere began transmitting to their suits again, the same voice as before.

"COMMANDER. I AM THE MANDA'SATHORIA, SOVEREIGN OF THE EMPIRE OF THE SAR'MANDA. MIRIDIAN HAS DETERMINED THAT YOUR KIND ARE POTENTIAL ALLIES IN THE COMING CONFLICT, AND SO I HAVE PERMITTED YOUR ARRIVAL. ASK YOUR QUESTIONS BEFORE YOU ARE TURNED OVER TO HIM."

Possibly pre-recorded, unless Sar'Manda body language was that subtle. Well, he had quite a few questions. "You're allied with the Nulorian. How long has this been going on?"

The Manda'sarthoria made a few quick gestures and bared his teeth. The sphere translated. "THE NULORIAN AND THE SAR'MANDA EMPIRE SHARE SIMILAR GOALS. WE HAVE DETERMINED THAT THE ETHEREALS WILL NOT BE CONTENT TO CONTROL THE SURFACE AND WILL ONE DAY COME TO SEIZE CONTROL OF OUR EMPIRE. THIS WILL NOT BE PERMITTED. THE EMPIRE ANSWERS TO NO SURFACE POWER NOR WILL WE BE HELD HOSTAGE BY THE THREAT OF THEIR POWER."

"Understandable," the Commander nodded. "It explains why the Zararch have never been able to fully stamp out the Nulorian. Not when you've supported them."

A wave and a quick sequence of facial movements. "THE ZARARCH UNDERESTIMATE US. THEY BELIEVE THEY UNDERSTAND OUR GOALS; OUR MOTIVATIONS. APATHY, ISOLATION, NATIONALISM. WE WERE CONSIDERED NO THREAT; A CURIOSITY AT BEST. BUT WHILE OUR SURFACE COUSINS WERE QUICK TO THROW AWAY THEIR FREEDOM WHEN THE ELDERS CURED THE DISEASE BROUGHT ABOUT BY OUR OWN HAND, WE SAW WHERE IT WOULD LEAD. OUR ASSUMPTIONS HAVE BEEN CORRECT, AND SO WE HAVE BEEN PREPARING."

"Preparing for what?" Fiona floated forward. "You can't have thought you could beat the Collective on your own."

The Manda'sarthoria cocked his head and made several complex motions with his hands. "MIRIDIAN HAS MITIGATED THIS FAILING. THE EMPIRE IS NOT COMPLACENT. THE COLLECTIVE CANNOT FIGHT US IN THE SEAS AND WIN, AND THROUGH THE SEAS WE CONTROL THE PLANETS. WHEN THE TIME IS UPON US, THE EMPIRE WILL EMERGE FROM THE SEAS AND EXTEND OUR POWER TO THE LAND INHABITED BY THE IGNORANT SURFACERS."

The voice seemed to grow more sinister. "AND WE WILL MARCH ON THEIR CITIES AND REDUCE THEM TO ASHES. WE WILL STARVE AND SLAUGHTER THEIR ARMIES AND PEOPLE. THE AUI'VITAKAR WILL COLLAPSE AND BURN FOR DARING TO IMPOSE THEIR WILL ON THE SOVEREIGN EMPIRE. AND WHEN THE SURFACE WORLD LIES IN RUINS, WE WILL RETURN TO THE SEAS AND NO OTHER FORCE WILL EVER THREATEN THE SOVEREIGN EMPIRE AGAIN."

There was a pause. "WE DO NOT SEEK ALLIANCES, FRIENDS OR PROMISES, COMMANDER OF XCOM. THE SOVEREIGN SAR'MANDA EMPIRE WISHES COMPLETE CONTROL OF OUR DOMAINS, FREE FROM OUTSIDE THREATS. THE ETHEREAL COLLECTIVE POSES AN EXISTENTIAL THREAT TO YOU, AND AN EVENTUAL THREAT TO US. WHEN THE SURFACE WORLDS ARE CONQUERED, WE CARE NOT FOR WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. BUT IT WILL BE WITH THE UNDERSTANDING THAT NO ARMY WILL THREATEN THE SAR'MANDA AGAIN. WE WILL LEAVE VITAKAR AND ENTER THE GALAXY UNTIL WE FIND PLANETS OF OUR OWN. PLANETS WHICH WILL BE UNTOUCHED BY OTHERS. THIS INCLUDES YOUR SPECIES; BE THEY ADVENT, XCOM, OR OTHERS. IS THIS CLEAR AND UNDERSTOOD?"

The Commander allowed a single nod. "I think we can both live with that. Though ADVENT and XCOM would of course be willing to provide assistance to the Sovereign Sar'Manda Empire in your quest." He made himself float forward a short ways. "While the Sovereign Empire does not seek alliances with others, I don't see why either of our species cannot have mutual relationships. Allies who assist us in this fight will continue to be our friends and allies, even if unofficially. I presume that will not be a major issue?"

The Manda'sarthoria rolled his head back, and made several motions with his left hand. "YOUR WORK HAS BEEN SHARED WITH ME. YOUR WORD IS BETTER THAN MOST OF YOUR SPECIES. SHOULD MIRIDIAN REACH AN AGREEMENT WITH YOU, IT IS ONE WE WILL ALSO ABIDE BY. WORDS AND ALLIANCES ARE EASILY BROKEN, COMMANDER. WE WILL CONSIDER YOUR WORDS WHEN YOUR SPECIES HAS PROVED ITSELF TO THE SOVEREIGN EMPIRE. NOT BEFORE."

The Commander bowed his head. "That is fair, Manda'sarthoria. Should my talk with Miridian proceed well, I'm certain ADVENT would wish to speak to you."

"IF THEY COME, I WILL SPEAK TO THEM."

Good news, he supposed. The Commander had the feeling that ADVENT would be perfectly fine with letting the Sar'Manda do their own thing once the war was over. Miridian floated forward towards him. "Hello, Commander." The voice was stoic and milder than he was expecting. Not exactly deep, nor what one would expect from a notorious terrorist. But it was also disarming in a way. "Follow me. We have a lot to talk about."

The room Miridian led him too was a small spherical room with tinted walls. There was a solid floor, and in the center there was a circular ring large enough to set down small pieces of equipment, computers and such. Projectors were built into the ceiling and floor in the center of the ring, meaning it functioned as a holoprojector?

The water was drained out of the room in a few minutes and sweet-smelling air was pumped in it's place. When Miridian moved to take his helmet off, the Commander followed suit. Miridian was, as many had suspected, a Vitakarian. Taller than the Commander by at least three inches, he otherwise didn't have many obvious surprises.

The eyes were the bright blue of most Vitakarians, and the skin a dark grey. It was hard to tell in the dimmer light, but the Commander's enhanced eyes easily picked up on the fact that the right side of his face was heavily scarred. Chemical burns or fire it appeared. The face itself matched with the demeanor of Miridian; aristocratic with an air of command and authority around him.

There was history in Miridian, he could tell that much. His emotions were also tightly controlled to the point that the Commander couldn't pick up anything especially distinctive.

"Apologies for the lack of chairs," Miridian said, setting his helmet on the ring. "No need when they just float everywhere. Lucky for us they keep a few rooms that can have air pumped into them for the odd surfacer that comes down."

"Built at your request?" The Commander inquired.

"Not these," Miridian corrected. "But I've had my own share of influence in Imperial construction. Believe it or not, before the Ethereals arrived and screwed everything up, the Sar'Manda were likely going to at least attempt to work with the other races. Likely for the best that didn't happen."

"Oh?"

"A long story there," Miridian waved a hand. "One you'll likely be hearing shortly. As I said, we've got a lot to talk about."

"We do," the Commander set his own helmet on the table. "That machine the Sar'Manda have. It isn't standard, is it." It was not phrased as a question, they both knew the answer.

Miridian allowed a smile. "Figured that out quickly. Introduce yourself, Siaru."

"RESPONDING. REPLICATOR-CLASS INTELLIGENCE – 'SIARU' – TO ENTITY IDENTIFIED AS 'THE COMMANDER OF XCOM'. CURRENTLY SERVICING NULORIAN ENTITY IDENTIFIED AS 'MIRIDIAN' AND SOVEREIGN SAR'MANDA IMPERIAL FORCES."

"You made this?" The Commander asked incredulously.

"Made? Ha, not even close," Miridian tapped a finger on the ring. "How I acquired Siaru…well, that involves my own story which you're no doubt interested in. So if you don't mind, I'll relay that."

"Trusting of you."

"You've seen my face, and you're no friend to the Zararch," Miridian shrugged. "I'll take my chances, Commander. I have no interest in making you my enemy."

"Fair enough."

"There are a lot of rumors about me, many of which I've helped propagate or start," Miridian began. "But the truth is that I was among the highest-ranked agents within the Zararch. Reported to the Zar'Chon directly; did mostly border scouting and frontier work. Met several Ethereals, including the Battlemaster and Quisilia. I've seen quite a lot of things, things you'd be interested in once the Ethereals are dealt with."

The Commander nodded. "And you found something?"

"Indeed," Miridian nodded. "A crashed and destroyed alien starcraft. Obviously I investigated it, it was nothing like I had found before. But it wasn't quite dead, and I requested a team to help try and salvage it. We eventually figured out a way to restore the power…even if we barely understood the tech as it was."

"This was Siaru."

"So it identified itself as." Miridian rapped his fingers on the table. "It's an odd one. I don't think it's a true AI, not really. It's insistent that it's a submind of something else, but whatever it is, it refuses to identify to me. I don't know how intelligent it really is. One moment if seems to be a machine intelligence, and other times it will ask very specific questions or without some kind of answer. It can play dumb, although I'm not unconvinced that isn't leftovers of certain protocols."

The Commander frowned. "Are you sure it's on your side?"

"For now," Miridian said slowly. "Ignoring the fact that it knows I have the central core right now strapped with several EMP and plasma grenades, and the room can be flooded in minutes, it is firmly against the Ethereals."

"Why?"

"Because as I learned, the Ethereals appear to be under the influence of…something," Miridian scowled. "Yes, I'm aware of how that sounds. But they made contact with some extremely powerful being, and it took Siaru minutes to put together a conclusion when I fed it information. And Siaru also put together a simulation of what the Zararch and Ethereals were planning."

"Sovereign Ones," the Commander interjected. "They're called Sovereign Ones."

Miridian narrowed his eyes. "You know about this? How?"

"Because I've talked with one," he answered evenly. "And just recently we fought a puppet of the one working with the Ethereals."

"Of course," Miridian breathed. "Why else would the Ethereals not simply invade your world with everything they have? Because there is something there they don't want to awaken! I never considered the possibility there was another of these creatures involved!" He then turned somber. "Then…is Humanity…"

"T'Leth has his agents," the Commander said carefully. "Ones we're working with. He…does not appear to have an interest in controlling our species. But my impression is that he's…not like other Sovereigns. I don't completely trust him, but if he wanted to control me…or any of us…he could have a long time ago."

"Mmm." Miridian looked sightlessly ahead. "No disrespect intended to your Sovereign, but I want nothing to do with him. I deserted the Zararch when I realized what was going on, that our species was unwittingly becoming the puppet of some shadowy all-powerful figure. And that they would use us to further their own agenda. The Collective, Commander, is planning for war against the inner galaxy. None of my species wanted this, or are prepared for it. But that was what my work was. I had originally thought it was to keep tabs on what was happening, in case they encroached on our territory, but back then I was…well, naïve."

"So how did you leave the Zararch without anyone noticing?"

"The only way I could," Miridian said, amused. "I died. Freak spacecraft accident where all the bodies were unfortunately atomized and the recovered intelligence was similarly destroyed. The team who was with me heard all I did, and we came to the decision together." He waved a hand. "Obviously it was more complicated than that, but unless you want the boring retelling, I would prefer to reach the relevant part."

"You can retell the whole thing later," the Commander said dryly. "I have a feeling you're proud of it."

"Managing to fool the Zar'Chon and multiple Ethereals?" The corners of Miridian's lips curled up. "I do take some pride in it. But I moved to an old derelict Zararch outpost on Vitakar. I had a lot of time to think and reflect; I had enough aliases and disguises that I could gather food and supplies for several years. I talked a lot with Siaru. This machine has been in many wars, Commander. It's described technology and species long dead and impossible for it to understand. Things became very clear to me; what I had to do next."

"Your Miridian persona."

"My goal is straightforward," Miridian said, as if the Commander hadn't spoken. "The Vitakara as an independent species of the galaxy. Not under the influence of any foreign power. No Ethereals. No Sovereign Ones…and no Humans. We rule ourselves, and ourselves alone. An idea I had once thought common is, as I have learned, almost impossible to achieve."

"I can respect that goal," the Commander nodded. "But I'm not sure how possible that is. Not after speaking with T'Leth. The galaxy is…"

"Cycles," Miridian said, voice melancholy. "A playground for the powers that be. These Sovereigns. Even Siaru is on a side, even if I do not know which one. Species that are pawns on the galactic stage. I've gathered as much, and I reject it. If our species is ultimately doomed, we will die as those who resisted the gods of this galaxy." He tapped several times on the table. "Siaru has helped us, he's given the Sar'Manda designs which can protect from psionic surveillance. But too many and the Imperator would notice. Too few and suspicion would be raised. A delicate balance, but one we've managed to keep for now. But it's a temporary solution, one for a planet, not the future.

He shot a look to the Commander. "Your Sovereign may be better than most, or it may be lying to you. I do not care. Do not try and say it is the only way."

"I'm warning you that it may not be possible," the Commander said. "The Sovereigns do seem to permeate the galaxy; their presence is everywhere. Even now you're speaking to someone who's talked with and allied with one."

"I'm not unreasonable, Commander," Miridian breathed. "I don't care that you are allied with one of these creatures. In your situation, I don't blame you. But the difference is that you, nor your species, is intent on controlling me, not that I would let you. I have little issue with allying myself to you, but it will be no more than that. If that means the Vitakara may never be the heroes of the galaxy…then I accept that if it ensures our independence."

The Commander nodded. "I understand. Continue."

"The galaxy is harsh and unforgiving," Miridian said. "The Vitakara will not survive long in a galaxy with these roaming leviathans. We're too coddled, too complacent, too weak, too twisted into the perfect servants of the Ethereals. I realized that our species must be reset if we want to survive in this galaxy, and so that is what I set out to do."

"This leads to your terrorism," the Commander segued. "Recruiting people like Sorras."

"The numbers pale to what I intend," Miridian said neutrally. "Resetting a species is not achieved without many, many deaths. And many of my kind have no place in the future, so I will not lie and give them the illusion that they do. My targets are chosen carefully, Commander. Collaborators, soldiers, Zararch. My people are similarly recruited from those who show signs of resisting the conditioning they grow up in. The opportunity for change. But this is the exception, Commander, not the rule. In the case of Sorras, it goes against his nature as a Dath'Haram."

"I want to know what you have planned," the Commander said bluntly. "The full details."

A sharp nod. "My species must be culled. The Ethereals have done one good thing – they have shown who is and is not worth saving. They have exposed flaws in our species and genome, which I will fix. The Dath'Haram will be eradicated, as will the Oyariah. The latter due to their uncompromising support of the Ethereals, and the former because their ways, genome, and customs have held themselves and our species back. Those attitudes and tendencies cannot be allowed to persist."

The Commander raised an eyebrow, the mildest reaction he could muster. "Genocide."

"Yes."

"Do you think that might be somewhat extreme?"

"Of course it's extreme!" Miridian growled. "But let's not pretend it isn't needed Commander, not in this galaxy. I suspect you object more to the Dath'Haram, so I will speak briefly – they are a race of cowards and weaklings. Sorras has been killing hundreds of them for years and they've never once even thought about doing anything more than holding vigils!" He spat the last words. "They are the worst example of the apathy that has poisoned my species, and it will not infect the future Vitakara. If having their children blown up or slaughtered in their beds does not cause a rise to action, then they do not deserve such consideration. They care nothing for life, for freedom or justice. No, Commander, I do not apologize for this extreme action. You're not of my species, nor seen what I've seen."

"No," the Commander crossed his arms. "But I do know that killing an entire race because they don't fit your own ideal isn't the right solution. Perhaps you didn't know, but Humans don't exactly look favorably on genocide."

"I've read about your Holocaust, the Cambodian Killing Fields and Armenian Genocide," Miridian said evenly. "This is not the same thing. The men who orchestrated those killings did so for selfish and shortsighted reasons. They did so with unnecessary cruelty and malice. I say this because it is the future of my species on the line, and we cannot afford this kind of liability."

"And you'll do what?" The Commander asked. "Execute every man, woman and child for the crime of existing?"

"For what kind of alternative?" Miridian asked. "Sterilize them? Force them to endure a slow and painful death as they slowly go extinct? Is that better?"

"Perhaps raise them properly?" The Commander pointed out. "Schools, education-"

"You're not listening," Miridian shook his head. "You don't know my people. A Dath'Haram will always think like a Dath'Haram whether they're raised in the Council or under the Republics. Dath'Haram are passive, empathetic, and pacifists. Sorras is considered insane for a Dath'Haram, and for good reason. This doesn't change. The only exceptions are if they undergo the Zararch conditioning." He curled a lip in disgust. "And I'll ask you if drugging an entire population is a better alternative."

"And Sorras knows about this?" The Commander questioned. "He's helping you willingly?"

"No one is more aware of the failure of his race than he," Miridian said. "Part of the reason he's so extreme is because he thinks that if he can provoke a reaction, that I will allow them to be spared. But deep down he knows that I'm right, and he has resigned himself to this fact."

"What of the Cobrarians, will you kill them too?"

"Their breeding issues are a liability, and an easily exploited flaw," Miridian said. "But they are not inherently unsalvageable. Experiments are commencing on the viability of stabilizing their gender rates to something more even. Genetic engineering should make this possible, but if not, then they will be killed as well. The race in general is too obsessed with mating and reproduction. I do not need such distractions."

"I assume there are Nulorian who are of the races you plan to exterminate," the Commander said. "Do they know about this? Will they be killed as well?"

"They know, I do not keep this secret from them," Miridian said. "And they understand the necessity of it. They know what awaits in the galaxy, and that only a united and powerful Vitakara species will be able to withstand it. They have already been sterilized, and they have the option of living beyond that day. But if they wish to join their brethren, that is their decision."

"How generous."

"Your sarcasm is noted." Miridian looked the Commander in the eye. "I don't care if you think of me as evil or mad. You aren't Vitakara. You haven't lived through this, and you don't understand exactly what awaits if you manage to defeat the Collective." He pointed upward. "The Ethereals? They're just the start. You will be entering a galaxy where empires and governments hundreds of planets strong wait. They have power. They have armies and fleets. They control the worlds of power. ADVENT and XCOM have been devised as means of ensuring that Humanity can meet the challenges of the future, and this is ours."

"And I can't support an alliance where the plan is the extermination of entire races for what you believe is the strongest species," the Commander answered. "There are Vitakara on Earth, defectors who left the Ethereals who are of the races you will kill. Why should they trust us if we're going to support the genocide of their kind?"

"What you do with them in your territory is not up to me," Miridian said. "They can live and die there, but they will not be Vitakara. Not within the New Vitakar."

"And what will you be?" The Commander asked. "The king?"

"Unlikely," Miridian said. "I'm a wartime leader and intelligence officer. I would be content with holding a position there. People better than I can lead the public in establishing our new government."

Hmm…

Something Miridian had mentioned stood out to him. They were at an impasse if it didn't work. There was no chance that the Commander would support or allow this plan. He didn't care if there was a Sovereign backing Miridian, it wasn't going to happen. "You said that the Vitakara in ADVENT territory would be allowed to live, but couldn't return to your new Vitakar, yes?"

"Yes. They are in your territory. You may do with them as you wish."

"Good, then let me make myself clear," the Commander said, summoning the psionic power and lifting a fist to clench it. Miridian suddenly froze as the Commander trapped him in a telekinetic field. "I don't usually do this, but I feel a point has to be made with you. I will never support the complete annihilation and genocide of species for the sole crime of existing and not fitting some nebulous ideal. The people and species change, but the excuses never do."

Miridian winced as the grip tightened. "I don't care if you think this is the 'best solution'," the Commander said quietly. "You are entitled to that opinion, but I would kill you if you dared to actually go through with it. I would probably kill you if you weren't a necessary ally. But I can promise that I will kill you if you ever attempt this kind of plan. Not when there are alternatives, and especially not with such poor excuses."

He released his hand and Miridian shook himself off as he reoriented himself, glancing warily at the Commander. His psionic capabilities were apparently a surprise. "Now," the Commander continued. "I do think that we can both get what we want. You want a species of Vitakara to your specifications? Then fine, that can be allowed. But the ones that don't fit your ideal? They won't be killed, they will migrate to the Vitakara government ADVENT is setting up with the defectors. You get your perfect species, and without the pointless genocide. Does that sound like an acceptable deal?"

"Considering you made your intention to kill me clear…" Miridian answered with hasty breath. "I…think it would work. If the Dath'Haram and Cobrarians would be happier alive and under the puppet regime of ADVENT, then they may live there, as long as they don't step foot in our territory. And we will control Vitakar. It will not be given to these others. Not to a puppet state of ADVENT."

The Commander allowed a nod. "A compromise then. You control Vitakar, and the other Vitakar will establish a new capital world."

Miridian nodded in return. "I do not like the concept of multiple Vitakara states, but considering your alternative…it is better than nothing. I do not want to be your enemy, Commander, nor you mine. We have a mutual enemy, and we should focus on that. If compromise is needed, so be it, even if my own species will ultimately be hurt."

"I might as well warn you," the Commander said dryly. "ADVENT might not look favorably on your policies in any future government you establish."

"I somehow think I'll manage," Miridian said with just as much dryness. "If that is the price I pay for an independent species, then I accept it. Then do we have an understanding, Commander?"

"Yes, Miridian, I think we do," Miridian extended a hand and the Commander took it, both man and alien looking at each other directly in the eyes. Neither relenting, and understanding that this was just a compromise. Neither had changed the others minds, and that was unlikely to change in the future.

But they had a common goal.

They had a common enemy.

"Then we should return to the Manda'sarthoria," Miridian said as he broke the handshake. "The Nulorian and XCOM officially have an agreement."