XCOM Archives Chambers

Praesidium

Early 2017

Desolan.

My first time going to space, and out of all the places I could have gone, it's there.

Part of me felt like it was selfish to complain. The thought that the Commander was deciding I was responsible enough to actually go on a mission of this magnitude. He could've chosen another telepath, or a non-psion at all, but he chose me.

Why? I thought. Maybe it's my empathy towards aliens?

I sighed, staring at the holo-screen that fed me information about this damned planet I'd be visiting shortly. The more and more I looked at what I saw, the more depressed I felt.

I'd seen pictures of all the species' homeworlds and how they reflected their respective species. Vitakar was much like the Vitakara that lived on it - incredibly vibrant and varied, yet hiding many dangers and threats. Helion-7 of the Sectoids, while looking dead, was filled with knowledge and science, twisted as it was by the aliens that lived on it. Andromeda Prime bristled with industry and innovation, yet behind its veil, it was filled to the brim with deception and shady backroom planning.

But Desolan?

Desolan was just dead.

Because in a way, a homeworld said everything about the species that came from it.

Oh sure, you had your occasional volcano spewing lava and ash into the sky, and the many predators wandering the blasted lands. But looking at it from orbit, the planet was a brown, uninteresting ball. Yet looking at it from the ground, it looked even worse. The camps and bases dotting the land reminded me too much of the camps my grandfather helped liberate in Europe during the war.

Fortresses of metal and industry, dedicated to nothing else than churning out death and suffering. For every class of Muton graduates, ripped from their mothers' wombs and thrown into a literal meat grinder, half would be left dead on the ground, the exhaustion literally killing them as their comrades trekked on. They'd be disposed into grinders, turned into mush for god knows what?

Why?

Well, it was because the Collective needed soldiers - and they did not care how it was done. Oh sure, the Battlemaster had conquered their primitive ancestors by giving them some plasma weapons and called it honor. That was obviously extremely morally questionable, but this? Children forced to dedicate their entire lives to war and left behind to die on this hellhole if they were not 'strong' enough? Muton mothers reduced to literal baby-making machines kept alive only by stimulating drugs? Were they even aware of their condition?

That was not honor - and no one sane could say that. Causing such amounts of suffering wasn't honorable in any way.

I turned my spinning chair away from the screen, shaking my head.

Another reason why 'honor' was dead in this war.

What the hell was even the point of saying one was honorable in the first place anymore? The Battlemaster, the supposed personification of it, was a goddamn fraud in that sense. Oh sure, he showed respect to his enemies? What good soldier didn't? He didn't willingly target civilians, massacre them - because that was common sense! Every good, decent soldier knew not to kill, rape, or steal from civilians.

And the records of the Battlemaster didn't lie. The xenocides of the Zaral Nebula. The Desolation of Agrahal IV. These events and more gave him-whatever his real name was- billions of lives snuffed out due to his action. So much blood on his hands.

He was no saint, and I was sick of aliens acting like he was someone to be venerated. But, if anything, it spoke volumes if he was seen as the good one compared to his compatriots.

But what does that say about me? I asked myself. We do illegal shit all the time. Yes, I poisoned those soldiers with Chryssalids. But no civilians were hurt in the operation. Not a single innocent man, woman, or child was torn apart by my actions that night.

But I was still the villain in that story- I had acted out of rage and vengeance for my friend, and because of it, many families lost their husbands and wives, fathers and mothers, and sons and daughters that night.

And I knew I'd have to do more actions like that in this war.

But never would I kill civilians.

I may not have had a set code, but I knew what was right and what was wrong.

And I knew I had to act like it.

I got up from my chair, walking away as the screen turned off. I needed to do more than just look at screens- I had to shoot something.

Are you sure you're going to be ready for this? I asked myself as I got into the elevator. You sure you can handle what you're going to see down there? You know it's going to be worse than what the files say?

Truth be told, I knew it was bad - but I had to go. Because while it probably wouldn't be a tactical victory, it would probably be one of the biggest propaganda victories we'd get in this war. Once the people saw what the 'honorable' Battlemaster had reaped after his conquest of the Mutons, the amount of rage and anger towards the Collective would skyrocket.

The last few naysayers and Collective apologists wouldn't have anything to say anymore. The people would see what the Collective really did to those under its rule - they were pawns of flesh and bone, nothing more. Behind the mask of prosperity they promised was a veil for horrors beyond what even the worst dictators and madmen in our history could conjure.

The mask had to be lifted. No, destroyed and burned.

We had a chance. Humanity had a chance to change everything in the galaxy. The Ethereals, the Sovereigns, the Bringer - we had a chance, damnit. And if we were to do that - then the Collective needed to fall first.

The Dreamscape

Early 2017

I managed to finally track down Violet in the Dreamscape, doing…something. I touched the orb and entered, half expecting to find her in the midst of a battle, but to my surprise, she was…

Working on a car?

She was knelt over, with her head inside of the front seat area of a fancy-looking car, toying with something under the steering wheel.

"I didn't take you for a mechanic." I said loudly. She shot up, looking at me, cursing in Spanish.

"Say something when you enter!" She yelled. I thought you were that German guy." She shook her head. "You should put a goddamn bell on."

"What are you even doing with a car?" I asked.

She snorted. "I didn't just deal drugs and steal shit, Dawn. I've had a couple of experiences with cars myself."

I raised an eyebrow. "What? You're telling me you've stolen cars before?"

She grinned. "Well, 'steal' is a strong word. It was more like 'hijack and resell'. What can I say? We were legitimate businessmen?" She laughed, cackling whilst I stared at her with a really? expression.

"Ah, you're too good, Dawn." She pulled some wires out of the car. "You're too good for this world."

"What, think I'm too soft?"

"Can't imagine you saw too much of the world outside of your suburban white-picket fence." She verbally jabbed towards me. "We'd occasionally steal cars from the other gangs. Jacking them, selling them, or if they were having a really bad day, we'd just flat out fuck 'em up."

"I get that," I replied, finally figuring out what she was doing to the vehicle. "But why're you trying to hotwire a fancy Italian car?"

She shrugged. "Stole one once."

Now that surprised me. "When? It doesn't seem like your home'd be ripe with the stuff."

"It wasn't." She said. "But there were plenty of rich pricks in the suburbs and urban areas that'd, uh, 'contract' us from time-to-time. Want something illicit delivered but don't have money to bribe the cops? Want someone to do a hit on some poor sod? We could do some dirty work, and it did pay well."

"But sometimes," She continued. "Sometimes people had us do a 'service' and not go through with paying us. I'm not exactly a charitable person, you see. One day, a particularly rich businessman, one of the richer side of our clients, didn't pay up when we paid a visit to one of his rival's business."

"And you stole his car?"

"Eh, 'tried' is a bit much. We broke into his estate, stole a whole buncha shit to sell, and drove his Maserati into a tree."

I snorted. "Damn."

"Oh yeah, it was a sight to see. Set fire to the damn thing and turned it to ash. It wasn't like he was gonna call the cops on us. They wouldn't have been exactly happy with his dealings, y'know."

"That takes balls." I said. "I can barely drive myself."

"Really?" She said, perking up. "You can't drive?"

"Not very well. I can ride a bike, but-"

She got up, clamping a hand down hard on my shoulder. "When we get a break, if those damned greyskins stop shooting at us, I'm teaching your ass how to drive."

"Really?" I asked. "Violet the Thief becoming my driver teacher?"

"Hey, I'm more than just a thief." She said slyly. "I'm the chick who saved your life."

"And I'm the one who taught you how to fight better, didn't I?"

"Yep. I guess it's better to work for a bunch of spooks than some crooks."

We both laughed.

"But seriously, can you show me how to do that?" I pointed at the car.

"After you can drive." She paused. "But why are you really here?"

"I need to train for a mission?"

"Where? One with your purple boyfriend?"

"No. Desolan."

She cursed in Spanish. "They're sending you to that rock? Why?"

"Shrek on steroids back there wants to save more of his people. Plus we get some gore footage to show to the world to make them hate the Collective even more."

"Spartacus has a name, you know?"

"Yeah, but he seems so…off." I slightly shivered. "His mind feels different from anything I've felt before. Even compared to Sectoids, he seems artificial. I mean, I know he was vat-grown and all, but still. The voice, his face…"

"Or maybe you're so put off by him because all the Mutons you've fought are brainwashed brutes that can't do more than grunt or scream while charging at you guns blazing?"

"Fair point."

"Still, you shouldn't write him off. I saw him fight Xarian yesterday."

"Now you've got my attention. How did it go?"

"They had to call it a tie." She said. "Spartacus is apparently very fond of headlocks. And headbutts."

"Headbutting a guy with stone skin doesn't sound like a good idea."

"Apparently Spartcus' skin is just that though. If he's that good, then I don't want to go up against one of those Praetorian things."

I gritted my teeth. "Yeah. There's something up with their minds that my telepathy wouldn't work on them."

"She seemed surprised. "No shit?"

"No shit."

"Sucks I missed that fight. Would've been fun to see."

"Oh it was. Part of me's got no idea how those two didn't crack their skulls open."

Ha.

"So are you just gonna keep on hotwiring cars here?"

"Yep. Gives me something else to do other than shooting things. Don't see how it hurts."

"Don't you think T'Leth would see that as a waste of time?"

"I don't care. It's not like he's going to kick me out."

"Um…he doesn't really have a good history with people telling him no or doing things he finds stupid."

She cursed in Spanish. "Damn. Calamari got feelings."

I snorted. "Okay, that's funny."

"What? You think he likes comedy, too?"

"I think the closest thing he found funny was when Isomnum tried to resist him back in Beijing. Probably tried to pick a fight when the Chronicler mindfucked him with that ball."

"What do you think happened to him when he touched that ball?"

"Nothing good, and all of me definitely doesn't want to know. Personally, I don't think T'Leth has felt that angry in a long time."

She looked back at the car. "You know, maybe I could show you how to hotwire that car."

"Really? What changed your mind?"

"Maybe Calamari would appreciate it more if I helped you."

Outside Training Area

Praesidium

Early 2017

"A secret code?"

"Yes." I nodded.

"You sincerely believe that Sana and Mortis'Ligna hid a secret code inside of this information?" He seemed almost awed at what I said - and not in a good way. "Dawn, I know you are young- but even for a small Human, this seems like much."

I felt a bit flustered. "Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I think I'm on to something here. Look." I almost shoved the pad at him. "Look. The files that you yourself brought when you came to us."

He reluctantly took it.

"Look, where I highlighted. In the files and articles that they wrote, there's discrepancies inside of the writing. I don't know what it is, but it's some kind of distorted Ethereal Script. I can't translate it, JULIAN can't translate it. I don't know what it is, and frankly I'm not smart enough to figure out what it is."

He brought the pad cartoonishly close to his helmeted face. "And you are positive this is not simply a corrupted file?"

JULIAN butted in. "I am certain that these files are not corrupted. If they were, then your Cogitian is dangerously bad with computers."

"Hm."

"I have positively identified at least forty-five words that seem to be heavily distorted. There is most certainly a pattern."

He stood there for several minutes, carefully analyzing the tablet. "I believe I now see what you two are referring to." He gave it back to me.

"You read it that fast?"

"In your time with Caelior, you should know that the Ethereal brain is far more powerful than yours." He paused. "But I can indeed see these odd word-patterns within these files."

"Do you know what it is?"

"I am not sure." His voice sounded uncertain. "I cannot recall anyone in the Empire ever mentioning this. But it does not surprise me."

"Why?"

"Though the twins were extremely famous, not many had as a keen interest in biopathy as them - or you. Therefore, I find it unlikely that many would analyze their files so thoroughly. Due to the stances and positions they held, many chose to sway away from them and their works."

"...I didn't know they were radical to that degree."

He nodded. "But I am confused as to what this could ultimately mean. I trust the machine if it says that the data is not corrupted. They were keen and intelligent people - they would not have allowed what you call a 'typo' in an official report or private message. This was left here with a purpose- and I do not know why."

I then realized that I was probably a bit too much out of my depth here.

I shrugged. "Um…any theories?"

He walked over to me and pointed his huge index finger at one of the words. "See that word right there?"

I nodded. "Yes?"

"You see, it is mostly similar to a word in Ethereal Script, but it is…wrong." He paused for a moment, clearly trying to find the right word. "It seems as if it is some distorted, strange version of my language. I have seen many languages in my life, both proto-Ethereal script and alien, but not this."

"So this is completely alien to you?"

He nodded. "Yes."

Damn. "Is there any way I could figure this out?"

"I am sorry, but truthfully speaking, I do not know. The only way to truly find out, I believe, would be to talk to them. And we both know that may never happen."

My shoulders slumped, as I looked down at the floor. He turned his head to look at me, understanding what I felt. We both knew that he didn't have to read my mind to know what exactly I was thinking.

"You are sad you will never speak to them, aren't you."

"Yeah." I said dishearteningly. "I don't know how many stars would have to align for that to happen."

"I believe you think too much about such an unlikely possibility. It is unhealthy for your self-esteem."

"I know-"

"I do not mean to sound like your therapist, but you should not compare yourself to the Twins. It is not a matter of skill - it is a matter of power. Power you are biologically incapable of reaching. It is unfair to yourself and the effort you have put into your work and practice to downsize you compared to them."

"I know." I almost groaned. "It's not about the power - it's about the personality, Aegis. They were clearly the most pro-alien amongst the Ethereals, and that makes part of me think that, as much of a pipe dream that is probably is, in some neutral environment, even if we exchanged just a single sentence, it'd mean the world to me."

I stared at him. "Do you think they'd be proud of me? Of the progress I've made?"

"We both Sana would not approve of using your abilities to kill and cause death. Mortis on the other hand, I am not sure. If anything, I suspect he may find some morbid satisfaction in you using the powers he in a way indirectly taught you to kill the people he calls friends."

"You think?"

"It fits his psychological profile." He stepped away. "Dawn, I know I am not as sociable as Caelior. Unlike him and the changes he has gone through, I am more rigid in my approach, which has served well. But you know you may converse with me when you wish, yes?"

"I know. It's just that sometimes the different ways we act makes it hard to communicate."

"I understand. Is there anything else you need?"

"No."

"I would advise you to not focus so heavily on this topic. Your energies could be better spent elsewhere, Dawn. I do not want you to overwhelm yourself."

Sometimes I forgot how much emotion he could convey with such a plain tone.

Caelior's Room

Praesidium

Early 2017

I stared at the face of Rishika Guragin on the screen of my computer. Her face looked back at me as I thought about the precious situation she was unknowingly in.

How the hell am I going to recruit her to XCOM?

When it came to Rishika, her profile was normal. Mother and father, only child, born and raised in Kathmandu. While most of her immediate family didn't have any military experience, her family history, many of her past family has served as Ghurkas - something that it didn't take a genius to figure out what probably influenced her decision to sign up with us.

However, other parts of her family history were definitely much more concerning.

Many members of her family were Tibetian, and had formerly or currently lived in Tibet. And quite a few of said family members were victims of the many Chinese human rights abuses.

Some of which had actually been killed by Chinese policemen during protests.

Which had led to her to have some…feelings towards Chinese people.

Thankfully, she was nowhere near what I'd consider a full-blown racist, but she definitely did hold some prejudices. Could XCOM sort all of that out? Yes. Was I qualified to try and fix that? Absolutely not. Could I help her integrate? Most certainly. Could I be friends with her? Didn't see why not. Could she be a good soldier? If her records proved anything, then yes. Could she handle being in XCOM? Probably.

Could Kunio train her?

Now that, I had absolutely no doubt.

I'd be all too glad to see more non-T'Leth teleporters on our side- if recent events said anything, then some of the people our resident Sovereign chose as his handymen made me more suspicious of them then ever.

Like a baby, XCOM, for lack of a better term, needed to wean itself off T'Leth's metaphorical teat sooner or later. And with Roshika's potential recruitment, this would be a great start.

But with everything here, the answers and solutions were more complex than the questions. Would she acclimate over time as well as I did? Would she get into conflicts with the ethnically Chinese soldiers? How good would her teleportation abilities become? Would she become traumatized with PTSD and have a breakdown?

Like it or not, in a way, the Commander was placing a life in my hands and gesturing to me, asking what I was going to do with it.

Are you trying to teach me some responsibility?

I grinned.

You sneaky little bastard.

It wasn't hard to figure out - I was surprised it didn't come to me sooner. In pretty much every way, I was going to be mentoring her. She was only a few months younger than me, but our experiences both in and outside of the military were night and day. Like with Violet in some ways, I'd have to put my 'big sister' hat on and teach her.

Every day I felt less like a kid and more like a weathered adult. In XCOM, I needed to, obviously, grow up - I knew that. But I felt like that time where I mentally aged drastically sped up faster than I'd like. At this point, the only times that I really felt truly 'young' was when I was with my sister, with Caelior, or the rare moments I had to myself.

This is what it means to be an adult, to have responsibility.

You're not just taking orders anymore, you're going to be giving them.

And if you convince her to join, you have to look after her. Be her friend.

Violet was different, wasn't she? Gang member, practically grew up on the streets and had to look after herself.

But the two are night-and-day.

Is the Commander even sure?

Sighing, I put the computer away, looking at my phone's screen.

God, it's late. You need sleep.

I climbed into the bottom bunk - Caelior's - and pulled the sheets over my head, burying my head in his pillow as I tried to force myself to sleep.

Why does his linens feel better than mine?

Well, if anything, if he was going to be gone for much longer, my next gifts would surprise him.

No more living in a bunk for either of us.

I thought about the upcoming mission. I had reasons to be excited - why shouldn't I be? I'd finally be going off-planet, to a new world, to do a mission that'd have more effect on the war than any of my previous missions combined.

On the other hand, I'd be a first-class witness to the absolute drudgery the Collective was willing to employ.

Of course it'd be a phenomenal propaganda victory for us. But if we showed it to the Vitakara, would they really believe it? The ones who'd been living in a cult of personality even the worst dictators in Earth's history would blush at seeing?

No. No, their minds wouldn't change.

If we had to change their minds, the only way left was to take Vitakar itself from them and rip off the veil. We would have to free them ourselves, put it under the boot of XCOM and ADVENT for a bit until they'd proven themselves rehabilitated.

God, this whole situation was fucked. They would hate us for it, but in time they'd come to thank us.

And the SAS?

We'd win in the end- I knew that. But what ADVENT had done with Scipio would leave marks forever. More fuel to the fire of their cause, as the last bastion of humanity untouched by ADVENT.

Things were going to get much, much dirtier.

And I would have to get even more blood on my hands than ever before.

Game Room

Praesidium

Early 2017

Kunio stared at Nartha.

Nartha stared back at Kunio.

If I had to be honest, I found the whole thing hilarious.

The idea of Nartha beating him at chess was a funny one (since Kunio'd kicked my ass more than once) but the fact that there were no stakes here made this just all that funny.

Though even I wasn't anywhere close to being a chess expert, Nartha was definitely losing. I didn't study any of the fancy or named chess strategies touted by experts. All I knew was checkmate, the piece movements, and everything in between that. No famous chess master moves, no named plans, just thinking it up as I went.

Hence why I lost so much.

But not to worry - I had my own devious scheme in mind to get revenge. He may have been the chess master, but I'd be damned if I said that the hours of other board games with my dad hadn't paid off.

As I watched the two players face off, I realized I'd never actually met Nartha. Come to think of it, he was the only member of the Internal Council I hadn't interacted with at all in any capacity.

Or- wait, what was his 'name', Soran Kakuska?

Something like that.

Hard to believe that all those years ago an alien like him could just easily slip in and infiltrate XCOM. We had really come so far from living under a mountain, didn't we?

But the thing about Vitakarians when you got close to them was just how freakishly similar they were to humans. If you put hair on them and changed their skin color, they'd look just like an abnormally large person- minus the glowing eyes. No insanely swollen heads like the Sectoids, no living in a fish tank like the Andromedons, and no roid-raging muscles of the Mutons.

And the Ethereals... well, that's obvious enough, isn't it?

How do we look so similar despite being so many light-years apart?

It couldn't be Sovereign tampering, right?

Well, at least they served as a 'normal' humanoid alien compared to the rest. The Dath'Haram came in a close second, though - and if the Internet and personal interactions were anything to go by, they felt the same way about us.

And if the, ahem, 'rumors' I heard around here were true, many on both sides here seemed to want to 'test out' those similarities in private. You'd hear soldiers here and there about earning their 'grey wings', 'green wings', or god forbid, ' white wings'.

I rolled my eyes. If XCOM ever had budget issues, just fundraise using an alien pinup calendar. We'd make billions.

Or maybe just invent something that finally fixes the McDonald's ice cream machine, whatever comes first.

I could never get Carreria in Human games - well, not the ones I'd tried, anyway. She didn't like Monopoly due to its 'unfair methods of property division', and card games didn't work out as they were quite literally too small for her huge paw-like hands.

It made me glad that pretty much every other Vitakarian around here had a much more developed sense of 'fun' besides shooting and making things blow up.

Finally, Nartha moved. But Kunio seemed ready for him.

"Best of a bad situation."

"Thank you, that's all I needed." He moved a bishop next to one of Nartha's pawns. "This is why you do the Siberian Swipe opening. It immediately decimates the backline if you're not prepared for it."

Wait, what just happened? What did he just do?

"I can't believe someone thought that was a fair rule," Nartha complained. "Even if it disables the rook for one turn, it gives whoever goes first a massive advantage."

"I agree," Iosif looked clearly angry as he stared at Kunio. "I don't know what fucking moron would think that is fun."

"Don't look at me," Kunio raised his hands in mock surrender. "I don't make the rules."

I had to hold in my laughter when he said that, my cheeks turning a cherry red as I put a fist to my mouth.

He thinks they're an actual rule!

Several moves later, and Kunio had won.

I can't believe he actually bought those moves for real! I did my best to keep myself from laughing. He bullshited Nartha the whole time and didn't even notice. I'm not dreaming, right?

"Good game, as usual," Nartha said as he stood back up, shaking Kunio's hand. "I think I'm understanding chess better."

You telling me this guy is on the Internal Council? Seriously?

Iosif said something in Russian - probably him cursing out someone again - but Kunio just smiled. "The pleasure is all mine."

Shaking my head at watching the top-dog Vitakara lose, I turned to walk out of the room, looking as Kunio started talking to some Scandinavian-looking woman, who seemed pretty amused with his performance.

You win the game and get the girl? You-

The general alarm started blaring, making me almost jump out of my shoes. I reflexively put my hands over my ears, trying to block out the sound.

Do they have to make it so damn screechy?

Squinting and trying not to focus on the screeching alarm, I watched as the crowd around Bronis looked at him as he spoke to them. I couldn't hear, but whatever he said, everyone suddenly went wide-eyed and rushed out of the room, leaving me outside as they all ran with a purpose away.

"Hey! Hey!" I shouted over the alarm. "What's going on?"

They didn't answer - Bronis in particular looked like he'd seen a ghost.

I gave up shouting at them, deciding to chase the crowd down.

"Why do I always miss the good stuff?" I said under my breath.

To be continued in:

Operation: Jericho

A/N:

Well, it's been quite a bit since I last posted, hasn't it?

Sorry about that.

Unfortunately, Xabiar's rewrite of Hades Contingency took longer than I expected, but it got completed. With him now returning to Advent Directive full-time, that means that I'm back, for real this time! However, there's going to being some changes. Firstly, due to my senior year of starting later this year, I may have to cut back on my writing due to adult life finally starting to catch up with me.

As such, I'm going to be limiting myself to one New Blood chapter for every Advent Directive chapter posted. The only exception to that rule will be if I'm in a not-so-work-intensive environment (like the upcoming summer) where I'll have more time. Secondly, the word count on chapters overall will be reduced unless absolutely necessary, so expect chapters to decrease in word count. But the quality, I promise you, will remain the same! You can expect more of Dawn's adventures coming soon!

You also probably noticed Jericho was the original name of this chapter. That'll be changed soon.

Glad to be back!

OfficialWeedTesterGuy