Barracks

Praesidium

I wiped the last of the makeup-like substance in the shower, the floor filled with a mix of water, soap, and whatever else XCOM Intelligence had decided to put into my disguise. All of my disguised clothing had been disposed of and incinerated a while ago, but I still felt dirty.

Probably because I'd also had a fair amount of soot, ash, and blood on me from all the killing I'd just done.

As the steam rose around me, I couldn't help but feel a bit unusual from how easy the whole mission had gone. No hitches, no sudden discoveries - everything had gone according to plan, but it'd all felt too easy.

Why had the SAS gathered so many influential and powerful people in one place, and let an infiltrator in so easily? Sure, I was on the more powerful side of the Trask Scale, but I'd figured the psions there would've been able to detect me in some way or another. Had it just been sheer luck? Had Kaan seriously figured no one would attack? Had Gabriel some serious behind-the-scenes work to make everything go perfectly?

If so, I'd definitely have to thank him.

But most of all, the lack of Skull Brothers providing protection had made me pause. Had Kaan or Betos lost faith in them after their recent defeats? I knew I'd killed most if not all of their best and brightest psions in Libya, but the whole situation just seemed odd. To add insult to injury, Knaag hadn't been noticed from any of our sources in a while. Word was that he wasn't even in continental Africa anymore. There were some rumors that he'd gone to Cuba, of all places, though if any of that was true was still up in the air.

Something to worry about later, I guess.

Wiping off the last of the 'makeup', I dried myself off, apologizing under my breath for the mess maintenance would have to clean up, the chemical mixture proving oddly resilient to the soap and water I'd blasted myself with. As I stepped out of the shower, I noticed my phone screen was filled with several unread texts.

Caelior-

I'm sorry, but we need to cross off our plans for the next several weeks. Aegis just told me I'm being deployed to Europe to fight off the incoming advance. Sorry. You have the room key if you want to do whatever.

Violet-

Hey! Respond to me when you can. Don't know where you've been, but XCOM just gave us this weird new weapon. Come check it out. Also, what's the deal with your German teacher? Ran into him yesterday, guy seems cold af. You sure this guy's sane?

The third text, however, was the oddest out of all three. It was an automated text from XCOM's Postal Service (yes, we have that)

Postal has received a package and letter for you. Delivered from Psychiatric Hospital in Lisbon, Portugal. Please pick up ASAP.

I raised an eyebrow as I cleaned myself off. Portugal? What's there that wants my attention? I don't know-

Oh.

I dropped the phone and my towel as soon as I realized who'd sent that. Luckily all the other women were out practicing, so no one saw my wardrobe malfunction.

Qasira? Is that you who did it?

I hadn't checked on her since I left Libya. I'd wanted to, but all of the recent business had pushed it out of my mind. I didn't mean to make it look like I forgot about her, but deep inside I felt bad that I hadn't made an effort to reach out to her. I felt no malice towards her when she shot my eye, and why would I? I'd saved her from killing herself, and I along with Hassan had made sure that she would be taken care of and moved to a place where the Collective seemed to have no interest in invading.

But I still felt guilty.

I wanted to visit her, but going out like that would be a security risk for all of us. I'd be putting myself and her in danger, and I felt that her mental state wasn't stable enough for us to interact. I didn't want to trigger PTSD or any other bad memories and set her back mentally. She needed time to heal, and yet I felt like I wasn't doing enough for her.

I eventually found the will to pick myself up and get dressed, throwing on a t-shirt and shorts before trudging back to my bed and resting my head on my pillow. As I put my phone away, it buzzed again.

Who is it now?

I cursed under my breath as I read the message.

Geist-

Come see me this afternoon at 3 pm. I have something for you.

Ah crap.

Dreamscape

I entered the dreamscape once again for the upteenth time, automatically donning my armor, expecting an exercise or lecture of some sort from Geist. He was standing in the middle of the 'room', waiting for me. However, what was odd was that he wasn't wearing any armor- rather his casual wear.

"Mind telling me what this is about?" I asked, shrugging. "Your text was a bit vague. If this is an exercise-"

"I can assure you this is no exercise, Miss Conley." Right away, something about his tone seemed off. He didn't have the normal stern tone he'd put on for lessons. No, he seemed to be a bit happier than usual.

"Then what's going on?" I asked with a suspicious tone. "Why aren't you in armor?"

"Because we will not be needing it today." He said. "There is no lesson."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Then why-"

Geist…smiled? Grinned? "Quite simply put, Dawn, you passed."

I paused, cocking my head.

"I…I what?"

"Your recent – and successful - performance in infiltrating Hosmunt Kaan's gala, due in no small part to your psionics, has demonstrated that your training has paid off. You met, and exceeded, my expectations. Well done."

I understood what he was saying, but I was still confused. "I-I what do you mean that I passed?"

"It means that I believe I have taught you everything that I have authority to teach on, Dawn. Your skills have grown exponentially, and you have taken what I have said to heart. This is not the end of your education, but teachers must understand when their students have learned all they can from you."."

He walked up and placed a hand on my shoulder. "I believe you have reached this point, Miss Conley. It would be selfish of me, and unfair to you, to not acknowledge that it is time you took your next steps."

"But I haven't faced threats like yours-"

He held up a hand to stop me. "You haven't, and you will not be expected to - not alone, at least. That is not your job, Dawn. You are a telepath first and foremost, but more importantly, you now have the mindset which will allow you to succeed anywhere.."

I nodded. "I know I gave you a hard time when you taught me. I know that our different personalities never really matched well. I haven't been the best student, but I tried to do my best. I-"

"You did, and that was all I asked. You listened, and learned." Geist said. "I understand you do not always agree with me, or see my behavior as strange, and that does not bother me. Ultimately, you have been a good student of mine. Perhaps one of my best."

"Even better than the ones from your chemistry class?"

He gave a small smile. "I would say so, Miss Conley."

"So what does this mean?"

"It means that now, my formal lessons to you are over," he said. "If you wish to, you may practice with me whenever you want, as long as time allows it. But going forwards, you are no longer my student. I have no doubt you will have other teachers, who will share and shape you in ways I cannot."

He appraised her. "One day, when I am old or gone, you may very well be in my position. You have proven yourself mature and capable enough to do so. Judging by your recent interactions from your firebrand friend from Argentia, I'd say you are already on that path."

I smiled. "Glad to know you still have some personality under there."

He ignored my quip, though I could sense something else within his mind. "I find it somewhat ironic that some of the lessons Patricia taught me before she…left have been very helpful to you."

"Really?" I asked. "You ever wonder what you could have learned from her if she stayed?"

"The hypothetical always offers temptations," Geist said after a moment. "Of course I wonder. I am uncertain of its worth. In some ways, I consider what she has become stronger than any psionic lesson she could teach. She is a monument to the folly of intelligence alone. She was an intelligent woman, and it was used against her. No one is immune to manipulation, no matter how intelligent we believe we are. I do wonder, Miss Conley, but I have learned a different lesson from her. One I cannot forget, nor should you."

I nodded. " Makes sense. Uh, one more thing. There's no final test? Just a speech?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

I summoned a candy bar and started eating it. "Because this whole time, I've sensed a huge buildup of psionic energy from your skull."

He smiled. "So you have learned."

"Indeed I have. I learned from the best, didn't I?"

He clenched his fists, the armor materializing as his head was enveloped by the helmet. I stood there, biting down on the candy bar, staring him right in the face.

"You will not use your armor?"

I shook my head. "No."

Because the whole time, I'd been focusing on something else.

"Tell me, teach. Your neck looks a bit red. Did you eat something today?"

He raised a hand, summoning his power.

I dropped the candy bar, and I snapped my fingers.

The bundle of nervous system cords in Geist's neck dematerialized instantly as soon as my thumb left my index finger, paralyzing him as he fell to the floor and slumped over. I walked over to his body, staring straight into his visor.

"Get used to it, Geist." I said dryly. "It will save your life."

He respawned a minute later, this time with his armor, looking amused.

"Not bad." He said. "Well done." He didn't seem concerned. "I will admit - you had me there. I wondered what approach you would take."

I chuckled. "Oh, there's gonna be a next time alright."

He rubbed the back of his neck. Is there anything else you wish to discuss before I dismiss you."

I pursed my lips thinking of something.

Hm….

"You know, I never really thought about it, but why Geist? Why not, well, your legal name? Why is that? I mean, I knew it was a username you used online, but why that of all things?"

He snorted. "Because 'Lukas Von Thiel' comes with certain expectations in certain circles. I have endured enough pretentiousness, dreary politics, expectations, and fear for a lifetime. Far better to be remembered as a teacher with a strange name. You are fortunate enough to be part of a family that cares for you, and you for them. Do not take this for granted."

I nodded. "Thank you, Geist. That means a lot. Really."

He nodded. "But I have one more question."

He nodded.

"Can I call you Lukas?"

"No."

Classic Geist.

Dreamscape

Later that day, I went into the Dreamscape again, waiting for Violet. She'd been bugging me all day about some new weapon that XCOM had cooked up, but she refused to tell me anything about it. I didn't know what was up with her, but she seemed more energetic than usual. I found it odd- usually she was more upfront with this kind of stuff.

I'd been waiting for a couple of minutes for her simulation to be finished, the figurative door within the mindscape being locked with a big glowing neon sign stating ' Simulation In Progress'. I shook my head. For a godlike being, T'Leth did seem to have a sense of humor.

I paced in a circle as I waited for my friend, thinking about the events of the past few days, particularly concerning the fallout of my little stunt at Kaan's party. The SAS' military responses to ADVENT across the board had unilaterally frozen, as many of their commanders and generals had died at the party. Many heads of special projects, like an advanced sea and submarine fleet to counter us, as well as various chemical warfare initiatives had been stopped in their tracks.

The internal political affairs of the SAS were even worse off. The fallout from the Gala had resulted in…some changes in the SAS. It was known that Betos was very displeased, but as for the actual expected effects…those were still nebulous.

At least for now.

While the losses would be replaced in due time, their replacements would be far less skilled and adept at their jobs, ever so likely driving more prospective member nations out of their reach.

One step closer to ending them.

But that would be for another time, and if someone good did manage to replace one of them, well…there'd always be room for more.

Suddenly, the door to the simulation flew open, the upper half of a bisected Muton flying out and leaving a grotesque blood trail as Violet walked out. Her armor was covered in alien blood, and her helmet was pockmarked with scratches and stains. Something had damn near cracked her visor open, and her psi-rifle had been totally broken. However, she carried something in her right hand that I couldn't quite make out.

"You've been busy." I said. "How's Clifton training you?"

She ignored me, taking her helmet off and throwing it on the floor, dropping the object and falling to her knees, breathing heavily.

"You good?"

She turned to me and rolled her eyes, panting. "Your squid guy had a messed up sense of humor."

"Does he now?"

She pointed at the door. "I walked in there with Clifton telling me I was going to be facing small fry. Runiarach, Andromedons, shit like that."

I nodded. "Uh-huh."

"So I go in there, I kill everyone, and I'm supposed to leave, right? But I don't want to. I want to keep going, right?"

Uh-oh.

"So I guess the squid guy-"

"T'Leth. He's got a name, you know."

"Squid-T'Leth sends me this big sign in glowing letters. But I tell him no, right? So what does he do?"

"Uh…it is his mind. You're kinda supposed to do what he says. He's not really a big fan of mortals telling him what to do."

"He sent a freaking tank after me!" She screeched. "I had to run from a fucking Herald through streets of Muton mobs just to leave it!"

"He sent a Herald after you?" I cocked my head. I guess the big guy really wanted to send her a message. "Uh, T'Leth doesn't really like it when people disobey him and stuff like that in his mind."

She looked to the left, then to the right. "So he can hear us right now?"

"Probably." I nodded. "I think he thinks you've learned your lesson, though."

She shook her head, sighing. She stood up, dropping her rifle. "It was kinda fun, though. Got a bit of a rush running from that metal monster." She patted her armor. "I didn't know this'd be so durable. It's so thin compared to the other stuff. But these shields, caray!"

"Pretty nice, right."

"Not bad for a street urchin like me, eh?" She cackled madly. "So, you got my text. Little miss party crasher finally has some time off?"

"Something like that." I said. "I swear, between missions, it feels like so long goes by between them, y'know? It's like I get back from South America one week, the next I'm going to Africa. But the downtime feels so slow, honestly." I shook my head. "So what did you want to show me?"

She smirked. "You are going to absolutely love this. You ready?"

I nodded.

She stepped back, and with a wave of her hand, everything related to her previous simulation disappeared, leaving only the strange object in her hand. With the push of a small button on the object, two huge beams of light emitted, one from each end, bathing the room in a dark red glow. I jumped back.

"What the fuck is that and where did you get it?" I yelled with surprise. She just looked at me with a grin.

"Say hola to my new close-quarters amigo, the XCOM Pulse Blade." She proudly announced. "The egghead's latest creation. It's like the Guardian Sabers those Ethereals have, but better!" She waved it around, the blade buzzing through the air. "It's all nanites in here. But with a touch of T'Leth's magic, it's better than ever. Watch!"

One of the blade's business ends suddenly elongated to double its size, lashing out like a whip as she lashed it across the floor, leaving a burning cut right next to where I stood.

"It's multi-purpose, just like theirs. Hey T'Leth, give her one, would ya?"

One suddenly spawned in my hand. I wrapped my armored hands around the blade's handle, trying to get a feel for it. It looked too much like a lightsaber handle from Star Wars - I knew that much. It didn't have as many buttons as the ones I remembered, though. It had three; one which was definitely an on/off button, and the other two were for each end of the blade.

"It's pretty easy, check it out." Violet demonstrated for me how to use the buttons. "The middle one's pretty easy- press it once to turn it on or off." The blades flickered and vanished when she pressed it, the nanites seemingly seeping back into both ends of the blades. "The other two's pretty simple, too. One button for each blade. Hold down really hard for a few seconds."

I nodded. "How do I make it turn into a whip?"

"You press the button. See?" One second one end of her blade was straight, the next it drooped like spaghetti.

"Huh." I played around with the weapon. "What's different about it then the Guardian one?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. I don't make 'em." She paused. "Want to try 'em out?"

"Huh?" I stopped as I realized what she meant. "Oh. Oh."

I pushed the button, activating it as the left end glowed.

"En Garde!"

Violet lunged at me with her blade as I awkwardly raised it, the two blades hitting with a resounding hiss. Violet may have had the advantage of having more experience with the blade, but I had the advantage of having more experience with my augmented body. I could tell she still wasn't fully accustomed to all the new benefits the gene mods gave her. She was still a bit slow- for augmented humans, that was. I raided my left armored boot and kicked her square in the groin, sending her sliding back with an oof. I lunged at her with the blade, aiming for her neck to try to end the fight quickly.

She slammed her fist into my wrist, loosening the grip as she went for my neck. I narrowly dodged it, trying to aim for her stomach as she blocked my move.

But she had other plans.

She quickly threw up her left palm, a Dynamo Shockwave attack hitting me and throwing me off-balance, sending me crashing through a nearby wall. It completely caught me off-guard, her taunting me as I struggled to get up. She lunged at me, pouncing on me as she readied her blade.

"Ya esta, hemos terminado?" She asked with a mocking voice.

"Nada." I hit her mind with a telepathic attack, but not one of my usual - a projected image, rather; one of a very large, furry, tarantula.

"Arana! Tirarse!" She yelped, falling flat on her ass as she grabbed at her helmet. I stepped on the blade's handle, crushing it with one fell swoop and putting my blade to her throat. I made the illusion disappear, allowing her a full view of my shimmering blade.

She groaned. "Did you really have to make it a spider?"

I shrugged. "Sorry. First creepy crawly I could think of. What? You'd rather have a snake or something? Maybe I can ask one of the Dath'Haram to show me pics of whatever they call-"

"Okay! Okay. Fine, you lose."

I gave her my hand, and she took it with her right hand.

"What happened to your other arm?" I asked as she stood up, her left arm hanging behind her back.

"Nah, it's fine, but I'm glad you asked!"

I never saw the other blade she was holding activate as she activated her other blade's whip function, wrapping it around me with a snap as the nanites started to burn through my armor and skin.

"Y…you.."

She shrugged, yanking the blade-whip back and then decapitating me.

I respawned a second later, falling to the floor and holding my neck, gasping.

"Okay." I coughed out, the tingling 'wound' messing with my gag reflex. "You-you win."

"How'd I do?" She asked, standing behind me. "Did I get ya good?"

"More than good." I stood up, wobbling. "I did not see your other hand holding that. Okay seriously, how long have you been using that thing? You're not half bad with it."

"I'm glad I could impress the woman who made the Skull Brothers her bitch." She shrugged. "Clifton was trying it out with some Templar buddies when I showed up for a lesson, and well, ask and you shall receive. Why weren't you using your telepathy?"

"Wasn't paying attention." I muttered. "I'm not mad, though." I snorted. "That was good. Really good."

She crossed her arms. "No problem. Where I grew up, using a knife like that in the back alleys was pretty useful."

She raised an eye at my wordless facial reaction. "You can figure out if that was a joke or not."

Awkward silence.

"So…uh, how's Clifton? Is he teaching you well?" I asked.

"He's not Geist, I'll give you that." She said. "He's definitely not a sociopath - he can take jokes, thank Christ. He's a bit touchy about talking about his battles, though?"

"Lemme guess. You asked him about Florida?"

"Yep. Didn't go over so well."

I crossed my arms. "The Battlemaster screwed that up pretty well. I doubt he'd like to talk about nearly getting killed by that huge fucker."

"I watched the videos. I can't believe his little puta survived all that fire."

I didn't know what puta meant, but judging by the way she said it, it wasn't a good thing.

"Part of me's surprised she's still willing to fight against us."

"You reckon some of that chlorine trifluoride got in her head?"

She cackled. "Good one." She paused. "So, uh…you don't mind if I ask about Alaska, do you?"

"Nah. I'm okay."

I neglected to mention the shitload of therapy and pills I took to deal with that.

"Is it true Carmelita blew his whole crotch off with a shotgun?"

"Yep!" I said. "I'd have T'Leth show you, but…" I pointed to my head.

"Sure, sure. And she cut his arm off, right?"

"Yeah. I have his original knife."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Apparently it's a bowie knife or something. His dad gave it to him as a birthday present as a little kid. He's used it to kill a lot of people since he switched sides."

She looked confused. "When you say that, if you think about it, do you think he ever really had one? I mean, his family was pretty high up in the cartel hierarchy, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah The guy's got something going on, and I don't know what?"

"Whaddya mean?"

I shrugged. "If you look at his file and history, it's clear that it's not just us and ADVENT that he's got beef with. His father had a lot of rivals in the cartels - not to mention other cartels competing for top spot. There were a lot of members of cartels rivaling his father that ADVENT took prisoner, then just ended up dead before ADVENT could even question them. They'd go to sleep one night in a cell, then the next day the guards find 'em with a broken neck or stab wound with no signs of a break-in. And I'm half sure that I killed a lot of cartel people that weren't aligned with his father's organization."

"What are you getting at?"

I pursed my lips. "I can't seem to find a connection to why he hates the cartels, too. Besides us, obviously?"

She muttered something to herself.

"Huh?"

"I don't have any evidence, but this sounds familiar."

"How so?

"Back in Argentina, I had to deal with a lot of groups like that. Smaller, but the point's still the same."

"You dealt drugs?"

She shrugged. "Well…yeah. Had to make a living in the slums somehow. It's not like I killed anyone. Least I didn't think so. And I put money on the table so my mama y papa could feed us."

She gauged my reaction. "You had a pretty sheltered childhood, didn't you?"

"...yeah."

"Americans." She rolled her eyes. "So puritanical. Anyway…gangs constantly fought and backstabbed each other all the time, you know? Vying for territory, money, power, that kinda shit. So here's what I'm thinking. You listening?"

I nodded.

"Okay. Let's say you're a rival cartel. Nico's dad has been giving you hell for years. Killing your guys, stealing your shit, taking over your territory. You're fucking pissed, right? And then one day, these guys called ADVENT show up. They got all this technology, all this manpower. In a matter of days, they did what it's taken god knows how many governments decades to do, and purges the living fuck out of the cartels and virtually all other criminal organizations."

"Okay."

"You're scared as fuck. All these cartel thugs getting gunned down. Drone strikes and helicopters level convoys and hideouts. Armies of gunmen hundreds strong who've terrified millions for years engage in gun battles with these new guys, but their bullets bounce off of their armor and the thugs get absolutely shredded. Cops and government officials you've paid off get arrested and purged. Leaders who've made names for themselves for years get turned into red mist when special forces kick down their doors. So you figure you don't want to piss these guys off. But you also figure that they'll find you sooner or later. Say, you have some contacts within your rival organization. And these contacts, I don't know, are very goddamn reliable. And maybe, just maybe have the location of the head honcho and his family of your rivals."

"Okay…"

"So you figure you take this information to these ADVENT people, yeah? If the intel's good, and they bag 'em, you might get off easy, nada?"

Oh shit.

She continued. "And if you're this Nico kid, and you join these aliens who seem to know everything, and they tell you that these cartel fuckers helped kill you dad? And that these contacts were people that basically helped raise you? That you saw as another father or uncle figure? You'd be pretty fucking furious, right?"

My jaw dropped as I realized what she meant.

"Look, I've seen this happen before, okay? Gangs going to the police and double-crossing each other for lighter punishments. Sellouts. Rats. Snitches, whatever you call it. People in this line of crime are fucking petty. Gangs, cartels, it's all the same damn thing. They pretty much do the same damn things for chrissakes. Just one's smaller or bigger than the other. You get me?"

"Oh my god."

She had a point, a damn good one at that.

"I…why didn't I think of that?"

"It's called street smarts." She tapped the side of her head. "I've seen it before."

"No. You have a point, it makes sense." I shook my head. "I-I need to do some more research on him."

"You want to walk away already?" She chuckled. "No round two?"

I smiled. "Did I say I was done?"

Caelior's Quarters

Praesidium

There was a time where I thought looking at videos thousands of years old would be boring and a waste of time.

But in my job, not anymore.

Especially when the only other person in the galaxy who could do what I did was in said videos.

I'd been watching Mortis' Greatest Hits for a while now, abusing the privilege of Caelior giving me his only other key to his room while he was out on campaign. I had the whole place to myself, with his secret stash of goodies under his bed all for me, and me only. So I'd resigned myself to feasting on snacks in my pajamas while trying to decrypt an Ethereal biopath's lessons.

Aside from the hours and hours of recorded lectures and speeches by Mortis, the most interesting media were his more personal CODEX entries, talking about his time visiting alien worlds outside of the Empire - something very few of them did, apparently. The worlds he visited were beautiful - gas giants, worlds abundant with plant life, barren rocks- even a planet that had been hollowed out by some mysterious, ancient race.

But there was one I was very particularly interested in.

Mortis' visit to a planet called Darumesh - the homeworld of the Dash-Rakka.

These folks were among the more interesting of the Empire-era aliens. Humanoid, average of around six to seven feet tall, reptilian, and most importantly - quite a few of them were skilled biopaths. Something of a genetic rarity, apparently. They, according to Mortis, had way more of their people knowledgeable in the ways of biopathy then they should have statistically. I didn't understand the math, but in his eyes, they warranted his attention, and if they did that…

Well, it had to be important to me.

Their world was less especially pleasing than the other one I'd seen. Half of it was covered in swamps, while the other half was either ocean or marshy wetlands. Their cities' builders had essentially bulldozed quite a bit of the wetlands and gradually over time had re-introduced its natural environment around their architecture, making their cities look more like an alien Venice than anything, with huge canals everywhere.

But Mortis wasn't there for architecture, he was there for history. For you see, the Dash-Rakka had a very interesting history. Their history had its own creation story, like many of Earth's religions. The ancient Dash-Rakka, having their own god-like figure that the translation software only translated to 'God' (very original). Yet the modern Dash-Rakka were nonreligious and did not follow such stories literally, but they did hold some of their myths in high regard; one in particular caught Mortis' attention. This particular legend was transcribed by Mortis as follows:

'In my own studies on alien cultures, there was one particular legend I had always found interesting. In the developing days of the Dash-Rakka, they were highly religious, and the story of their own creation by the hand of the God Rakka described, and I quote "Cell by cell he created them from the cauldron of the land and inhabitants; reforging and remaking them into his own people".

Fanciful and likely something that never happened. But what is interesting were his highest Prophets, those who claimed to have the Gift of Rakka, the ability to heal the flesh with magic powers, and kill similarly. A legend, some may say, but I suspect that these individuals were the first ones to develop the skills I have now.'

Sounds familiar?

Because it definitely sounded familiar to me.

Rumor was that many of their people held the same skills as the ones of old - under different namesakes, of course. But Aegis had informed me that finding such information wasn't possible; those files had been restricted beyond his access, and the only way to find those were if I could access servers located in Sana'Ligna's blacksite, Sanctuary.

Whelp.

That wouldn't stop me, though. I still had loads of information from Mortis that I hadn't looked at just yet that had to have something I could use. Mortis was still 'dead' when Aegis left, so he clearly couldn't have hid anything to prevent Aegis from taking anything important. I did have access to the star maps of where he traveled outside of the Empire for his 'research'. And for whatever reason, Darumesh and the surrounding star systems the Dash-Rakka had colonized were listed at the top of his list.

There was also a list near the bottom, concerning certain facts about the Dash-Rakka themselves. The notes seemed to be somewhat discombobulated. While there were some numbers and letters, most of it seemed to be jumbled, almost like it was under some kind of encryption.

Dash-Rakka-tem*90-876 solar -, for example, looked like complete gibberish. While there were some words that could be made out, the letters and other symbols made it incomprehensible. Page after page after page were covered in this word and number salad. Not only that, but within said word salad were a mess of other symbols that looked completely unfamiliar to me. Whilst these symbols had some basis in Ethereal Script, there was something…off about them that threw the whole thing.

My phone buzzed.

"You know it's code, right?"

I sighed. "Who asked you to call me?"

XCOM's resident AI spoke up. "I did. You sitting there for an hour staring at the same pages with the same look as a discombobulated puppy is only amusing for so long. I can decrypt these within minutes. I'm only slightly insulted that you didn't ask."

"Because you clearly have other tasks to do?"

"Your respect for my time - while appreciated - continues to betray your lack of understanding of the most basic mechanics of how I function. Parallel processing. Human computational knowledge is shockingly poor. It's ludicrous." JULIAN appeared to realize he was on a tangent, and refocused. "The point being - I can decrypt files, while also fending off the sixty-ninth consecutive attack today."

I narrowed my eyes. "That was why you waited until now, isn't it."

"Normally, I would not bother. However, I understand you would appreciate this reference which Humans your age find 'funny', as they do many things as they relate to sexual reproduction. Now that we have acknowledged the funny number, I will solve this little issue of yours."

"What?"

His icon appeared on the bottom right-hand corner of my screen.

"Oh."

"'Oh' what?"

"This is curious. This isn't like other codes I've seen."

"What do you mean?"

"It means that while I recognize some of these coding patterns, some aspects look oddly unfamiliar."

"So the great JULIAN has finally been confounded?"

"Do not mock your mechanical overlords." He ignored me, voice nonetheless interested. "It means that there are some symbols that I clearly do not recognize. While some do seem similar to the base Ethereal language, it is clear that these symbols have been modified from their original counterparts."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "So what does that mean?"

"It means that, while I will help you, I am unsure if I can solve these fully enough to make them comprehensible to you."

"So Mortis and maybe Sana put a hidden code in here." I said quietly. "But why? Are they trying to hide something?"

My phone buzzed again.

"Julian, I swear-"

He didn't respond as I picked up my phone.

An email…from the Commander.

Come see me right away.

Commander's Office

Praesidium

I sat down in front of the Commander's desk, anxiously looking around, unaware as to why I'd been called here.

"Good afternoon, Dawn," the Commander greeted. "Please, take a seat. I don't think that this should take too long. I understand congratulations are in order, per Geist. Well done."

I shifted, after I sat down. "Thank you, Commander. Can I ask why you needed to speak to me?"

"Yes, it concerns your idea that was forward to me some time ago," he briefly consulted the screen at his desk. "Project Hebe. Targeted recruitment of other young talent for XCOM, similar to you. It was a well put-together proposal, up to the standards I would expect for a suggestion of this nature."

His eyes returned to me. "I have considered the proposal, and asked the Internal Council for their own input on it. They raised a number of good points, some of which I'd considered, and a few I hadn't. Ultimately, while I appreciate the effort you've put into this, I have determined that it will not be implemented."

My eyebrows shot up. What?

He rested his hands on the table, fingers laced together. "I expect you may have questions as to why, and I will answer them."

I was shocked, feeling like my heart would drop into my stomach, like being given a failing grade. "Wuh…what do you mean, it's not going to be implemented?" I asked. "It's not…I don't understand. It's a far cry from other things we've done. It's small, it's got a reliable recruiting base, and it's easily doable. Sir, this isn't a big stretch compared to the other thing you've done!"

"While none of that is incorrect," He responded. "I believe you're overlooking several major flaws."

"Sir, with all due respect, I worked really hard on this, man. I put a lot of thought and time into making sure that this is going to look presentable and workable for you and the rest of the Internal Council! I mean, this isn't that inept for a nineteen-year-old, right?"

"You did, and we did review this as a group," the Commander said. "And you also knew that rejection was a possibility. It's never pleasant, but this is not personal, nor something that is irregular," he leaned back. "Vahlen, Mercado, Creed, Zhang, all of them come to me with proposals and ideas, and there are plenty that are rejected. It is part of work here - normally something you don't have to worry about."

"But what is the problem?" I asked. "Optics? Not enough people? Did I not put in enough-"

"Because the fact is this," the Commander grew more serious. "XCOM is not a place where people your age should be. Most people your age, Dawn, are not like you. There are many, many talented young adults - and they should receive proper training in ADVENT. Our mission is difficult, distinct, and frankly most people are not equipped to handle it."

"You let Violet in though," I pointed out indignantly. "And with all due respect, we both know that she has a much sketchier background than I do. She knows it, I know it, you know it."

"She, like you, is a very special exception," the Commander said slowly. "Her history and views on ADVENT would have presented issues, her upbringing hardened her to where Yates signed off on bringing her on, and I will point out that she has yet to go on a mission." His voice was even. "She is a rare case where she is better with us, than with ADVENT. She is also under the command of a trained supervisor, much like you with Geist."

"So?" I had to ask. "That's the point - sure, most people don't fit - but what about those who do?"

He pursed his lips. "Your proposal specified that this would be something that you would manage. On the surface, that is a logical proposal. It makes sense for someone your age to train, advocate for, and acclimate people of similar ages. You would also have a role in their selection. You had quite a few criteria - skills, education, psionic aptitude, psychological health. A reliance on numbers. Your excitement came through your writing - and that raised some concerns."

"How?"

"Because you want this to succeed," the Commander said. "You also aren't trained in psychological appraisal. People who seem like they'll be a perfect fit, sometimes aren't." he smiled faintly. "There isn't going to be a single candidate approached who will not want to join. Excitement overrules rationality. They'll hide their doubts, insecurities, and failures. It won't always be intentional, but they'll feel a need to prove themselves. You don't see that without experience."

Fingers drummed on the table. "You will make a mistake. Mistakes happen, but mistakes here cause damage. Perhaps not death, but psychological breakdowns can be just as devastating. Is that something that you want to be responsible for, Dawn? To be one who makes these decisions is not something to take lightly. Have you seriously considered the implications for yourself here, beyond those you would help oversee?"

I looked down, knowing he was right, and kicking myself for not actually thinking of what was brought up. "Not as seriously as I should have, yeah. Good point."

He nodded sympathetically. "Your intentions were good, Dawn, and I appreciate the time you took to put this together. Unfortunately, as it stands, it's not something I can approve of. I hope you can understand this?"

"Yes." I said weakly. I felt humiliated - embarrassed, in front of him. Here I was, all pumped up and ready to hear what he had to say, only to get shut down big-time. I got what he was saying, it made sense. But the fact that I didn't think of the flaws that he noticed - be it my obvious confirmation bias, or my obvious ignorance towards other people my age.

Had my time in XCOM really made me so detached from being a 'regular' teenager? "I feel like I failed you, sir. I gave you a stupid idea, wasted your time, and made myself look like a fool in front of one of the most powerful men in the world."

"This is not something you should feel bad about," the Commander said, apparently sensing some of how I was feeling. "This is the kind of thing I should be receiving from Jackson - not you. And just because I don't believe a dedicated division is necessary, it doesn't mean that I'm placing a moratorium on helping exceptions when necessary."

He reached down, and slid a small document across the desk. "Rishika Guragin. Nepalese girl who most recently demonstrated an ability to teleport. I believe she's only a few months younger than you are. ADVENT isn't fully sure how to handle her, and have asked for our help. Considering your age, and that you are friends with our own resident Teleporter, I want you to go speak to her. Assess, report back. If she needs more specialized training, we can see about bringing her here strictly for training."

His voice became dry. "I am trying to get ADVENT to start cultivating their own assessment and training programs instead of using us as a crutch to send all the psions they don't know what to do with. Appreciated as it is, I prefer both our organizations have a diverse slate of psions. Is this something you'd be interested in?"

I blinked. "Wait, what? You found another one?"

He nodded.

"But you just - never mind." I shook my head, my emotions flipping between confused, excited, and nervous. "You want me to interview her? You really trust me with that responsibility?"

He nodded. I guess he really meant that.

I was honored.

Humbled, but honored.

As I read the document, a thought came to mind. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"You ever wonder what's gonna happen if people find out about T'Leth?" I asked. "No offense sir, but enough people know about it to make a leak very likely. All it'd take is one leaked memo, one whistleblower, one email." I pursed my lips. "I think we both know what'll happen if the truth comes out, sir. I mean, we're hiding it pretty well now, but T'Leth's done a lot of stuff that's grabbed people's attention. Beijing, Ankara - how long can we really keep him a secret?"

"As long as necessary," the Commander said. "And I doubt this approach will change in the future. There are some things that people do not need to know. There is not much which could destabilize ADVENT. The existence of the Sovereign Ones is one of those things. What works in our favor is that the idea itself is outlandish enough that most people will dismiss it without much prompting."

His eyes glanced at something on the screen. "ADVENT is prepared for such contingencies. Unless T'Leth decides to announce himself to the world - which I doubt he will do - then that is a scenario I don't think anyone has to fear."

"However," the Commander continued. "Before your trip to Nepal, there is another matter to discuss. Preparations have been undertaken for a mission to Desolan. Spartacus has put forward your name as someone he wants to take part in the operation. I concur with his assessment. When you're finished here, head to Spartacus and he will brief you on the details."

The Commander smiled. "I think this is one mission you'll be happy to take part in, Dawn."

"Dismissed, and good luck."

To be continued in:

Operation: Jericho

A/N:

Hi everyone! So, as you've probably noticed, I've been gone a while. First, allow me to apologize. I was wrong. As you can see, AD was not resumed in March as I believed. I severely underestimated the amount of time it would take to complete the revision of Hades Contingency. Xabiar has informed me that he may post an update of some kind, though what it's going to look like and when it will come out is currently beyond me. As such, allow me to clear some things up:

New Blood is most certainly not dead. I do continue to write it accompanying Advent Directive and beyond.

Updates may or may not be limited as Xabiar may change his writing plans soon.

I have many more ideas incoming to New Blood, like a raid of [Redacted]. an invasion of [Redacted], Dawn going to the alien planet [Redacted], and more! These ideas, while currently in the very early planning stages, will be excellent additions to New Blood, and will further enrich the story and keep it entertaining and fun!

All in all, that is the current status of XCOM: New Blood. I've got a summer job right now, which will keep me somewhat occupied, but with no college classes going on, I'll have time to plan. Junior year of college resumes in August, and I may have more on my plate with a peer mentor job and a recently added minor in history. But - I'll do my best to keep you all updated with new chapters, content, and more! That's a promise.

- OfficialWeedTesterGuy