//------------------------------// // Micronoid Finale, and the Passing of The Torch // Story: X-Com Equestria: Apocalypse Unknown // by Crimson ONayl //------------------------------// “Are you sure she went in this direction Bauxite?” Bauxite rolled her eyes and pulled back to fly alongside the Pegasus who asked the question. “Yes, she went in this direction, towards Gold Valley; trust my migration navigational skills would ya!” Thunder Crash huffed. “It’s just there’s no air displacement, going that fast? Come on, there would be some signs of her passing.” “Dammit Thunder just trust me on this one, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to follow Celestia after she shoots off on some Alicorn errand.” Bauxite pumped her draconic wings and flew to the head of the pack of armoured pegasi. The pegasi behind Bauxite shared the same armour, with the typical gold breastplate and helmet, their armour was augmented with the addition of metal runners across their wings, edges sharpened to a fine point. Thunder Crash wore the same armour, but with the addition of a horseshoe shaped emblem, with a lightning bolt placed vertically through the shoe. The emblem singled him out as Captain of the Sky Guard. Bauxite, however, had very different armour; it was made up of hinged, interlocking plates that covered her chest and stomach, with a single panel that wrapped around her barrel to protect her wings and back; her helmet was also made of similarly hinged plates, with an open front and a plume of phoenix feathers decorating it. The phoenix feather plume, as well as Bauxite’s full name: Bauxite-Shyvern Solari; marked her out as Celestia’s personal bodyguard. After Celestia’s rapid departure from the court room, Bauxite had left it to Swift Pen to calm the nobles and petitioners while she galloped to the barracks to find Thunder Crash and muster the Sky Guard. Swift Pen had sent a runner to Princess Luna’s chambers to rouse her, and by now she would have taken over Celestia’s court and was awaiting a message from Bauxite explaining where Celestia was and what the trouble was. Bauxite was happy something exciting was happening, the wedding incident was a welcome break from the decades of boredom, but Bauxite had been deprived of a good fight by the Queens antics, and was stuck fighting a behemoth in Canterlot Caverns. To make matters even worse, changelings had heat-resistant chitin, that didn’t crack or shatter easily; their blood was one of the foulest things in existence-that Bauxite had encountered at least-and they cheat! Looking like a rock while it’s actually taking a chunk out of your hoof. Bauxite growled mid-flight; it had not been a pleasant encounter. “Captain, I see something on the horizon!” “What is it Swift?” “It looks like smoke, but if it was, the fire would have to be huge! The size of one of the palace wings!” Bauxite and Thunder Crash exchanged worried glances. They both knew what could create an enormous fire, because she was the one who controlled the biggest fire the eye could see. Hoping that Celestia hadn’t set the valley alight, they put on a burst of speed, and the pegasi of the Sky Guard redoubled their efforts to keep up. *** “Okay people, I thought we’d have more time, but we need to make a move before they do.” Xander had gathered the team of Humans in what looked to be a small café, judging by the tables that were still in one piece, and the glass-fronted counter with a number of plates inside. The proprietor had been more than happy to provide the Humans with tables and coffee, and the mare hovered behind the counter; anxious to hear what was being planned. “We just need to wait for the Princess, don’t want to plan anything she wouldn’t agree with.” As if on cue, Celestia walked in and took a seat; the mare behind the counter gasped and ran out to see if she wanted anything. After settling down into her seat with a cup of tea, Celestia nodded at Xander, urging him to begin. “Right then. Captain Blaine has informed me that he won’t be jumping in until we can absolutely 100% guarantee that it will be a safe jump. This changes things up as to how we deal with the UFO that’s currently smoking away in those hills; we need to stop the Micronoids here and now, they cannot get away, I won’t allow it.” Xander took a deep draught from the bizarre hoof-friendly mug he’d been given. “So let’s throw a few ideas around, we’ll come up with a plan and point it at Celestia to get the go slash no-go; and then we’ll put it into action.” An awkward silence filled the café, broken only by the occasional clatter of dishes as the mare behind the counter tried to find something to do other than eavesdrop. “Well… let’s assume that their ship is the same as the MacArthur; large, dangerous, and equipped with large troop compliments and, more importantly, hangars.” Cameron put in his word, and crossed his arms at the end of his sentence, inviting opinions. “Maybe, but if they have hangars, why haven’t they just booked it already? They can’t possibly think that they can drag that thing back into the sky, they can only get away from it.” Mkoll countered. “I don’t think that ship was ever designed to even skim an atmosphere, let alone fly through it, it’s a testament to the skill of the pilots that they managed to pancake in rather than die in a glorious explosion of laser and flame.” “Ignoring the fact you’re complimenting them; think about how the aliens we’ve faced here have behaved. Despite the fact that they know damn well by now that you either have to catch us off guard or outnumber us ten to one, they still stood and fought a shootout; arguably their weakest tactic.” The Librarian spread his arms wide. “Now what does that sound like to you?” A long pause, before Ryan snapped his fingers, a move that drew curious stares from Celestia and the waitress. “Ants, a hive mentality. They’re sacrificing their individuality to protect an asset; so that could mean…” “It could mean that they have an immature queen in that UFO.” Crimson finished darkly. “So that leaves them with about two options; they can either A: Attempt to secure the UFO and defend it, almost like a fortified emplacement, or B: Move the queen to a smaller UFO and get away with her.” “Excuse me if I cut in here, but is it truly necessary to exterminate these aliens, wouldn’t that make you just as bad as them?” Celestia interrupted the conversation, frowning. Xander glared at her. “We are well beyond letting them get away, if they survive and get away, they can just start all over again; I will not let everything we’ve lost die in vain. The Micronoids will not give up on assimilating races and worlds into their wretched crusade unless we stop them, if we don’t do that here, they’ll just come back stronger. This isn’t an invasion Celestia, it’s an infestation that we have to stamp out and stamp out hard, lest this particular breed of interdimensional bacteria come back to fuck us over.” The venom in Xander’s voice took Celestia aback, having seen his capacity for sudden changes in mood, she should have expected it; but Xander had spoken before in a way that showed his capacity for forethought and appreciating the greater picture, but his grief forced him to be heavy-handed and refused to back down. “I see… very well, continue.” Celestia attempted to reel in her statement, but could not deflect the withering looks sent her way by the rest of the Humans. Jester tried to steer the conversation away from such an unwelcome topic. “So we have to get inside the UFO and make damn sure we take that queen bitch out. How do we get inside?” “Really Jester? ‘How do we get inside the crashed and shredded alien UFO’?” Tank mocked. Kadzie held up a hand for silence. “Actually Tank she has a point, since their hull is partially alive and almost entirely organic, it’ll just regrow and seal any holes. Great defence against things like micrometeors and the like.” The so-far silent Scholar Murray took the initiative and proposed a solution. “If we can’t find a big enough tear, we can just ram a hole in it with the Data Engine.” Xander smiled, all traces of previous anger and hostility gone. “Good good, so we have a plan of action, now how do we attack and what does our ammo count look like?” “A: With overwhelming force and B: Absolutely bloody awful. Solid munitions are scary low, with a handful of 20 round clips for Crimson’s autorifle, about three full drums of machine gun ammo between me and the box I found in Mercury; We’ve got plenty of shells for both Ryan’s AT rifle and Sterling’s pump-gun. Lawpistol clips are a non-issue, ludicrously plentiful; don’t know about the lasers and Cameron’s pistol though.” Cameron stood and started patting and rummaging through his pockets, he dropped a small collection of grenades onto the table that were quickly snatched up by the other members of the squad. “Damn.” He muttered, as he checked his medical satchel for anything spare. “Well I’m good for about a hundred plasma shots, and I did have a fair few grenades.” “Sharing is caring Cameron; the lasers are alright, these older models basically never run out, the only things that need changing are the focus crystals, and those are about as common as Bigfoot’s self-portrait. We’ve got one working laser rifle in AJ’s hands, and my laser pistol is working fine, and we’ll assume that the same can be said for Crimson's and Mkoll’s.” Jester said, indicating the two. “We do have one other weapon to call on.” Dominic added. “Or two.” He grinned as he pulled a heavy revolver out from under his green robes. “I have this and the sword, elerium cells for the sword are good for a month each, and I have three, plus a box of .44 for the hand-cannon.” His grin became wider and smugger. “I’m good.” “One thing I haven’t got any feel for are you two.” Xander said, concerned. He indicated the Librarian and the Scholar. “I worked with Elder Farrelly long ago, but I have no idea if he still trains initiates in combat.” The pair took the unspoken question for what it was and pulled back their cloaks covering their right arms. As the red cloak of the Librarian was swept aside, the Sonic Word Cannon could be seen strapped to his forearm; the hilts of two-handed sabres could be seen over the shoulders of the duo. Beneath the beige cloak of the Scholar was an arm wrapped in heat-resistant cloth and wadding, with the scorched barrel of a flame-projector jutting out from the sleeve, with a small pair of tubes running to the flexible fuel tank that was hanging from his back. “Very impressive, now talk, the whole mystery thing doesn’t work on me, I was there for your founding and fighting.” Scholar Murray smirked. “Oh alright then; my flamer’ll run dry after about 20 seconds of continuous fire, I used a fair chunk of my fuel incinerating the remains in that pod. After the flamer runs out, I’ve got my blade, I’m not the best swordsman, but I’m alright, and I got some experience during the exodus.” “Well my Sonic Word will be fine from now until next year, ultra high capacity elerium cells and a low power drain synergize perfectly. I’m a fair swordsman too, but I have the added benefit of being a damn good preacher, if I say so myself.” Kadzie drew a small tablet computer out of a case on his belt. Holding it in the air, he boasted: “This has everything from the Codex Libraria to the Bible, as well as the writings of R.U.Sirius in The Search for Peace. I’ve even compiled a long list of quotes and speeches from history, classic literature, and comedians. What?” The group stared at the Librarian for a moment before bursting out with laughter. “I can see it now!” Jester snorted between bouts of giggling. “We march into battle, slaying aliens left and right, and Kadzie’s saying stuff like: “ She deepened her voice and put on a British accent. “We shall fight them on the beaches! We shall fight them in the fields! We shall-oops hang on, phone’s ringing.” “And that’s a perfect description of why I don’t have any of your quotes Jester, because they are, quite simply, shite.” Kadzie poked, retaining some of his dignity. “Anyway, there’s always time for a ‘Cake or Death’ joke.” He joined in Jester’s silliness, doing an impression of the ‘dramatic announcer’. “Any last words, you foolish little man?” He switched back to his conventional accent. “Uh, yeah! Cake or Death?” “What?” “Cake or Death.” “Uh, death-no! Cake! Sorry, cake, cake, sorry, cake!” “I’m afraid I can only accept your first answer.” “Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Tank was unimpressed. “That was awful.” Kadzie shrugged. “Meh-ow!” Murray swatted him over the head. “That was so bad, you just made a baby cry; and there are no babies left, that’s how bad that was.” “That’s just too macabre.” “Now is not the time for dead baby jokes, raise your right arm Scholar.” Jester growled. Murray complied, warily. With a loud *Slap!* Jester high-fived the man with her bionic arm, with a swift war cry of: “Hiiya!” Celestia and the waitress were utterly baffled. These mad creatures laughing and joking as they discussed the obliteration of an alien race and poking fun at the destruction of theirs; it was such a foreign concept to the Equestrians. The sound of a ‘siren’ filtered in from outside, the sound was emanating from the rumble cannon mounted on the Guild Data Engine. The Scholar and Librarian leapt up and ran out to discover the source of the alarm. The Humans and the Princess exchanged wary glances until they heard a cheer from the pair. Xander cupped his hands to his mouth. “What is it?!” He bellowed. “There’s a surge of dimension energy coming from a gate about 2 Km up!” Came the ecstatic voice of Kadzie. Murray’s deeper voice followed, laced with concern. “The surge is coming from the generator in the crashed UFO, they could be trying to get away!” Mkoll leapt up and ran out of the café with his odd, loping gate, flinging his body forward with powerful strides of his mechanical leg. “Not on my watch! Xander! Radio the MacArthur! Bring her in.” He paused in the doorway. “With your permission Princess.” Celestia breathed out heavily, weighing up decisions and consequences of either action. Her next sentence would change Equestria forever, for better or for worse. She could refuse, and attempt to deal with the aliens with her army, or she could accept, welcome the Humans into her society and give them asylum in return for aid and technology. Taking a deep breath, she made her decision. *** “Captain Blaine, I bring excellent news.” A voice rang through the bridge. Turning, Blaine greeted the newcomer. “Ah, Dr Bezial, a pleasure as always.” “Such a charmer Captain, we have a gate, the conditions are… acceptable for a jump.” “What about the gravity?” “According to our instruments, it’s 1.0 ESG exactly.” “Wow really? Earth Standard? That’s lucky. How about the magnetic field? “A little weaker than Earth’s, but still very much capable of supporting all of our skimmers and the MacArthur.” A cheer rose up from the bridge crew, with Captain Blaine at its head. “So what are we waiting for!? Steersman! Power up the maglev plates! Sensors! Don’t ruin this day by crashing us into a cliff! Ensign Lovel-“ Bezial dashed forward and grabbed a fistful of the Captain’s uniform. “Nono! Wait, we need to let their leadership make the decision otherwise we’ll cause an inter-dimensional incident.” Blaine whirled around; his mouth still forming silent words as he stopped barking orders. “No Blaine, wait!” “But-“ “Wait!” She repeated. “Wait and I’ll reward you later.” Blaine’s eyebrows disappeared into his fringe. “Stop doing anything!” The bridge crew laughed and leaned back from their respective consoles, the hum of the maglev engines began to emanate from all around and there was a feeling of weightlessness before the elerium engines cut out. The MacArthur dropped sharply for a moment, before the alien world’s magnetic field ‘caught’ the ship, bringing it to a steady hover. Dr Bezial laughed at Blaine’s sudden reaction and revealed her hand that she had behind her back. The fingers were crossed. Blaine’s face fell. “Oh you’re mean.” Bezial laughed again, before straightening the Captain’s lapels. “You’re just not neat enough.” The comms officer took this moment to cut in. “Not wanting to interrupt this… beautiful scene, but we just got a message from Xander, we’re clear to come through!” Blaine turned away from Bezial and strode back to his console. “I’m assuming control, I want to do this.” Bezial followed Blaine to his chair and stood by his side, peering over his shoulder at his console’s inbuilt readouts. “Miss Evans, you should find that the Dimensional Wedge is online and slaved to your console.” Weapons Officer Evans double checked her screens, before nodding her confirmation. Blaine’s hands moved to the control sticks that sat on the arms of his chair; tapping one last command into his console, he leaned back and firmly gripped the sticks. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed the left stick forward and the MacArthur began to glide forward. The dimension gate wasn’t visible to the naked eye, but the Sensors Officer could detect its unique energy signature, and overlaid this onto the live camera feed streaming into the Captain’s console. Blaine’s face was determined and he set his sights on the writhing ball of energy that his console showed him. He lined up the MacArthur into a collision course, and then held the sticks, ready to make corrections in the aftermath of the jump. Meanwhile, Evans plotted a firing solution for the D. Wedge so that it would fire just as the MacArthur began to brush against the gate. Blaine wiped away the beads of sweat that were congregating on his forehead. Bezial gave him a comforting squeeze on the shoulder, and the MacArthur nosed into the energy signature. The device on the nose of the ship flared and the energy signature doubled, tripled, quadrupled in size until it engulfed the length and breadth of the ship. With a blinding flash and a sound like thunder, everything went white, and the MacArthur faded from existence. *** “The MacArthur’s coming through any second now sir, I just got the automated jump confirmation.” Xander clapped Librarian Kadzie on the shoulder. “Excellent work, we should-“ “Commander you’re going to want to see this, look to the UFO.” Xander frowned at the interruption but turned to look nonetheless, the UFO’s side was slowly sliding open, with a scraping screech that was audible even kilometres away in Harvest. Xander frantically turned back to Kadzie. “Message the MacArthur, lock onto the radio signal and tell them to prepare for battle stations, launch the Thunderbolts and warm up the Zeus Cannon!” He was already turning and walking away as he finished his sentence. He scanned the marketplace for the Scholar, upon spying him; he cupped his hands to his mouth and called out: “Murray! Get to the Data Engine and man the rumble cannon!” A faint *got it* echoed through his head. Murray’s psionic message reminding Xander of his own capabilities, he searched for the formidable mental presence of Celestia; finding her with Applejack still in the café, he sent a thought message. *They’re up to something, we may need your assistance.* “Sir, the UFO’s bay door is almost open wide enough for a probe to slip through.” Not amazingly useful information, but it gave Xander an estimation for how long he had until transports could start getting out; not long. *Copy that Ryan, keep me posted.* A plaintive “Ow, dammit.” Came through the radio, making Xander chuckle despite the occasion; Ryan’s mind just wasn’t built for psionic communication. “Xander!” Turning at the sound of his name, Xander saw Celestia crossing the marketplace to where he was. “I would ask you to not communicate like that again, if not for Applejack’s affinity to magic, you could have killed her.” “I-What!?” “What you call psionics is a form of magic, a type of magic not seen for a long, long while; it used to be affiliated with runic magic, but-“ “No time for babble, save it for the Librarians! The UFO is getting ready to launch some smaller ships.” Celestia’s eyes bugged out. “What size are we talking here?” Xander frowned, blowing out of his nose as he thought. “Okay, you see the Skyranger? If you imagine that inside the big UFO, that’s about the size of the smallest probe they have; chances are, they’ll be flying out in the bigger ships, the smallest of which is taller than three of the tallest houses here stacked on top of each other.” “I see… what do you need my help with?” “I get the feeling you don’t much approve of it, but your magic is extremely powerful, and I’d like to know if you think you’d be able to take out one of their ships with something similar to the beam you used with the Brainsucker pod.” “I don’t like fighting Xander but I’m not a helpless fool, I shall offer my assistance where I can. My troops should be nearly here by now as well.” Xander stopped in his tracks. “Your troops?” “My bodyguard and the pegasi of the Sky Guard will be here soon, Bauxite is very quick to react to my ‘Alicorn Antics’; and the Sky Guard is made up of some of the fastest pegasi in the land.” Xander raised his hands in a warding gesture. “Don’t take this as a slight to your people, but I doubt your troops will be much use against a UFO bigger than a house.” Celestia smirked the smirk of one who knows something more than Xander did. “Oh I wouldn’t let that fool you Xander, Bauxite-Shyvern Solari has more than a few tricks up her sleeve.” “Launch detected sir! Looks to be a bomber!” “Shit! Not now! Where’s it heading?” Xander panicked. “Right for us sir, weapon bays are open and it’s coming in for a run.” “Celestia! Tell everyone to get down and into cover! Tank! You too!” “Everybody get down! Get in cover! Better yet, get behind me!” Tank’s voice carried throughout Harvest and could be easily heard by Ryan on the outskirts. The voice that followed it could probably be heard from the other dimension. “Everypony find cover! They are coming back!” Celestia’s voice echoed not only through the town, but the minds and bodies of all those present; the resonating tone didn’t have to be heard, it could be felt. 2,000 meters up, in an insignificant corner of the sky, above the chaos that was Harvest; appeared a small sliver of gunmetal grey plating. This sliver of plate grew into an array of tubes and antennae as a bright light seemed to shine from cracks in the sky itself. The Humans and Ponies of Harvest could see the bright flash in the sky, and watched in awe, as the MacArthur slid into existence. Unlike the UFO and Mercury, the MacArthur couldn’t jump into the Equestrian Dimension, thanks to the lack of a large, stable gate. Instead, the nose of the MacArthur had to be forced through until the Dimensional Wedge that had been mounted on the fore of the ship was entirely in the gap between worlds; the D. Wedge flared into life and the cracks of blinding light, which had so far been hugging the edges of the ship as if trying to force itself shut, suddenly expanded into a rippling tear in reality, through which an apocalyptic landscape could be seen. Alien ridges and cliffs that were scorched barren, and a sky that was thick with heavy, jet black clouds. The MacArthur was a shining beacon of light in such a dark and desolate landscape, her noble figure pointing the way out. Another UFO was launched from the main Mothership, and another, then another, until there was a stream of UFOs flying out of the hangar and scattering in different directions. An ear-shattering whine filled the air for miles around, and one of the escaping UFOs began to sag and smoke, before bursting into flame and crashing into the snowy landscape. The MacArthur retched an immense green projectile of volatile plasma that impacted another fleeing UFO, reducing it to its component atoms in a moment of blinding green. The first bomber came in low over Harvest, tilting to aim its Disrupters at the town; with a series of loud zapping noises, blue lines of energy were flung from the spiked projectors of the Disruptors at the town, turning several houses into little more than flaming piles of wreckage. With a whoosh and puff of steam, the bomber launched an immense torpedo that flew straight up into the air, before it split into dozens of smaller torpedoes that slammed into the town, wreaking havoc. The Data Engine roared, and a wave of sound shattered windows and ripped the tops off of houses as it travelled through the air; it impacted the green disc and sent it yawing off course, shedding shattered pieces of hull as it went. While this happened, the MacArthur came completely through the tear, and the universe made itself whole again with a teeth-shaking boom, that did nothing more than add to the spectacle. Still firing the mighty Zeus Cannon at the fleeing UFOs, the hangar doors of the MacArthur slid open and three shapes dropped out, freefalling before igniting engines and zooming down toward the besieged town. The Lightning-II Superiority Fighters flew in a tight formation, before splitting off and engaging the bomber from multiple angles; the bomber turned to flee, launching another multi-torpedo as it went, but the lumbering disc could not escape the agile skimmers, and the torpedo was destroyed by pinpoint-accurate laser fire from the flight. The lead Lightning split off and powered towards the small group of transport UFOs that were attempting to escape to the South of Harvest, while the two wingmen brought the bomber down in a blazing ball of fire and wreckage. “This is Hurricane, target down and requires clearing, good luck ground team.” The bomber cut a swath through a copse of snow covered pines as it crumpled into the ground; finding no more fuel, the flames swiftly burnt themselves out, and the UFO lay still, a green pockmark in the white landscape. “General alert on all bands, Overship class UFO launched from downed Mothership, priority one target. Eliminate at all costs.” The palace-sized UFO rocketed over the town with a rumble of alien engines that sent eyeballs quivering and teeth chattering. The majestic shape of the MacArthur turned and dropped altitude to bring the Zeus Cannon to bear, abandoning the chase of the group of T-shaped transport UFOs. Reacting to this, the escorts following the transports broke off and began strafing the MacArthur, only to be brought down by the automated laser point-defence systems. During its turn, the MacArthur fired the Zeus Cannon at the UFOs being chased by the flight of Lightnings and sent them scattering with a laser beam and plasma bolt combo unique to the Cannon. The lead Lightning caught up to the UFOs and began taking one down with high-intensity bursts of laser fire, dodging the retaliatory beams of Disruptor fire from the escort ships with quick bursts of vectored thrust. As one of the transports started losing altitude and spilling wreckage from the multitude of holes punched in the hull by the laser cannons of the Lightning, the Lightning took a Disruptor bolt to the rear and the engine cut out, the fuel line and cowling melting in an instant. “This is Spitfire, taking hits and bugging out.” The Lightning veered off and zipped away, albeit at a slower rate, on its maglev engines as the other two members of the flight caught up. In a smarter move, they dashed the escorts out of the sky before moving on to the lumbering transports. The Overship blotted out the sun as it flew over Harvest, such was its size, but the MacArthur was above the great ship, and had an easy shot at its flat top. An electric blue barrier flared around the Overship as the Zeus Cannon hit it, and blocked both the laser and plasma bolt. The translucent barrier suddenly flared with so much energy it turned opaque as a beam of fire lanced out from the town. The sun seemed to dim, giving out less lumens than it did before the beam was fired, but the Overship’s shields were down, and the next shot from the Zeus Cannon punched a hole right through the centre of the disc, and a mighty corpse could be seen falling from the hole in the ship. The khaki shape looked like an immense squid, and behind it there came a rain of pink hail and muddy yellow blobs. The alien Queen and the egg chamber had been killed and shattered by the expert marksmanship of Weapons Officer Natasha Evans, who would later be lauded as the one who hammered the last nail into the Micronoid coffin. *** “Mustang break off your attack!” Hurricane veered to the left and rolled end over end to dodge the Disruptor beam launched from one of the fleeing transports, attempting to get revenge for its fallen flight-mate. The group of UFOs had been all but destroyed by Thunderbolt flight, save for one T-shaped transport, and one of the more conventionally shaped, pink-purple transports. Mustang had been going in to blow a few more holes in the T-ship, but was leaving himself an easy target for the flat-transport, which saw its opportunity and sent a hail of beams his way. Mustang heard Hurricane’s message and kicked his engines into overdrive, shooting forward and manoeuvring so that the T-ship was between him and the flat-transport. Oblivious to its ally, the purple ship continued firing as Mustang disappeared behind the T-ship and its beams sliced deep into the heart of the larger transport, cutting into the engine deck and blowing the ship apart in a spectacular explosion of green and beige, scattering hull and metal everywhere. Thunderbolts Two and Three lined up on the last transport and were about to fire when… “Holy shit hold fire! Hold fire!” Hurricane almost sheared off a wing as he veered off hard. “What?” “There’s a flight of locals in armour right in the transports path, if we fired, we’d punch right through the UFO and into the locals.” Mustang’s voice came through breathlessly, having pulled a high-gee turn himself. “Shit, they’re going to get slaughtered. Try to come around and hit the thing from the flank, I’ll go high and try to get him from above.” “Copy.” Keeping one eye on the transport and the flight of locals, Hurricane pulled up and into a rapid climb. Realizing with a sense of dread that he wouldn’t be able to line up on the transport in time to stop it from killing the locals; he prayed that Mustang had a better line. Unfortunately, the transport had ignored the locals and Hurricane, recognizing Mustang as the most immediate threat, and he had been completely zoned off of a good line up on the transport by unrelenting barrages of Disruptor fire. As the transport and the flight of local troops closed in on each other, the majority of the locals scattered, while the leading mare, wearing a plumed helmet of fiery red; stubbornly continued on a collision course with the transport, playing a game of chicken that she was very much going to lose. The mare flew a little closer to the transport, then tucked her limbs close to her body for a second, before throwing them out…and out and out as the mare expanded, her hinged armour slipping and sliding as the plates folded out to encompass her new form. Roaring her hot defiance at the transport, Shyvern Solari hooked her claws into the transport and easily tore a hole in the organic hull. Suddenly realising that she was the greater threat, Disruptor beams were fired at the beast, the beams that didn’t simply rebound off her armour were easily absorbed by her scales. When Shyvern had opened what she believed was a large enough hole, she stuck her head and neck into the open and flooded the interior of the UFO with scorching flame that incinerated the crew and melted the engines, weapons and controls. Weaponless, crewless and powerless, the transport plummeted towards the snow-covered foothills below. Hurricane took a risk and flew alongside Shyvern, dipping his wings at her in thanks and to signify his alignment. She closed her eyes and focused, steadily beating her wings as Shyvern, the Half-Dragon, shrunk back into Bauxite, the Draconic Pegasus. Bauxite rolled wing-over-wing and landed on the nose of Thunderbolt Three, smiling as she folded her wings underneath her armour. Her “Lead me to Celestia great steed!” Was snatched away by the wind, but Hurricane saw the mare’s mouth move and smirked anyway. Shedding speed, he tilted the nose of his Lightning slowly as not to upset his passenger as he came in to land alongside Thunderbolt one in the marketplace of Harvest. *** Mkoll saw Hurricane land in Thunderbolt Three with the mare on his nose; he turned back to Spitfire and raised an eyebrow. Wordlessly, she shrugged and walked back over to Thunderbolt one; the only surviving Lightning from the original Thunderbolt flight, it had once belonged to Mkoll. Above the town, the silent shape of the MacArthur hovered, hangar doors wide open and allowing a number of maglev transports to ferry people and supplies down to the town below. Celestia and the Scholar oversaw the mass conveyance of supplies and souls and attempted to organise them in such a way to cause minimal disruption to the clearing efforts. A small tent-city had been built just outside of Harvest, and a number of dark green autotrans’ had been secured down and turned into miniature warehouses; the pegasi of the Sky Guard alternated between flying above and patrolling between the tents and vehicles of the refugee camp, eyes open for aliens that had ejected from the many crashed UFOs. Bauxite trotted up to the group of armoured Humans clustered around the crashed Overship and greeted them cheerily. Before any of them could reply, the red-cloaked Librarian stood and yelled: “We’ve waited too damn long! We shall drive them out! With Word and Quill!” Kadzie drew the long sabre from his back and held it vertically in his left hand. He leapt forward and ran at the airlock, half-buried in the snow and dirt; a blast from his Word was enough to tear the already-weakened door off of its hinges and he charged inside, cloak flapping madly behind him. “I like him!” Tank bellowed before following the Librarian’s reckless charge with his shield held high and mechanical limbs brandished. His sister followed him, drawing the white laser pistol and scrunching her bionics into a fist; Crimson made a motion to move forward, but was stopped by Dominic, who drew his sword and said: “Stay back for now, Crimson, swordsmen first, nutters second.” Crimson laughed and ran after the green cloak of the Sirian swordsman. “And then the chaingun’s last, of course, makes perfect sense.” Ryan muttered as he hefted the heavy weapon and plodded toward the shredded opening; leaving Bauxite standing outside with her mouth agape, completely befuddled by the Humans’ actions. The rest of the ground team had congregated around the downed bomber, and were preparing to breach it, albeit in a calmer fashion than the technique used at the Overship. “So, are we in agreement? I’ll breach the door first, then AJ and Cameron follow up with their heavier weaponry, then you 3 bring up the rear, double check downed enemies and watch the sides and rear.” Sterling brushed away the diagram he’d drawn in the snow and pulled his shotgun off of his shoulder. AJ and Cameron nodded and checked their laser rifle and plasma pistol, respectively. Fitzpatrick, Kerlav and Jones drew their lawpistols, with Kerlav and Jones also drawing the Stun Grapples they used to use to subdue perpetrators of the law. Thunder Crash watched them with a respectful nod, they knew what they were doing, and seemed to know the best way of doing it. He stepped forward. “Excuse my interruption, but can I offer my assistance? I’m Thunder Crash, Captain of Equestria’s Sky Guard.” He said, puffing his chest out proudly. Sterling and AJ regarded him with unreadable expressions as they looking the Pegasus up and down; Thunder remained still and posing, having dealt with Griffons, the Human practice seemed remarkably similar. They paid particular attention to Thunder’s armour, wing-blades and, quite impressively, the concealed pistols set into his armoured forelegs. After several more seconds of scrutiny, AJ grinned and spoke. “Sure thing pony, come on over!” Thunder Crash cantered over. “Are you sure AJ?” Sterling hissed, just loud enough for Thunder to hear. “Sure, it’ll be good to start co-operating early, plus we can get a glimpse of their fighting capacity.” She whispered back. Fitzpatrick and the MegaPol officers watched with feigned disinterest. Thunder Crash took offence as this casual disregard of his abilities. He was Captain of the Tartarus damned Sky Guard for Celestia’s sake! He was a Thunder! From a line of great pegasi that could be traced back to the days of Discord! Right back to Thunder Storm, the Sentient Storm; brought to life by Discord’s twisted magic. Thunder decided to demonstrate why he was called Thunder Crash. He reared up and slammed his hooves into the ground, sending out a peal of thunder that knocked Sterling and AJ flat and caused the other three to stumble. “Do not disrespect me, my stallions, or my country! Ever!” Fitzpatrick leapt between Thunder and his downed comrades. “Now look here Captain, we meant no disrespect, but we have little comparison to go on. Just… peace, show us your stuff.” He gestured to the buckled and burnt doors. With a snort, Thunder positioned himself next to the doors while Fitzpatrick helped up Sterling, AJ waved away his help with a hand and leapt nimbly to her feet; taking up a position in front of the pistol armed Humans in front of the door. Sterling braced his shotgun to his shoulder and mouthed ‘sorry’. Positioning himself carefully, Thunder leaned forward onto his front legs and bucked with his rear, the crash of twisted metal merged with the familiar crash of thunder as the door simply came apart. Sterling rushed in and thrust his shotgun into the mouth of the dazed Skeletoid just inside the door, before he scattered the thing’s brains across the wall in a cone of green blood and buckshot. Dashing past Sterling’s legs, Thunder scythed the legs out from under another Skeletoid with his wing-blades and finished the downed alien with a tremendous *Stomp!*. AJ and Cameron leaned in and sent a hail of energy shots down the passageway into the open space in the centre of the UFO; cutting down a so-far-unseen alien down in a spray of flesh and jelly-like blood; the Psimorph shuddered and screamed psionically as it slowly sank to the floor, it’s formidable mind incapable of suspending itself in the air any longer. There was enough room in the passageway to take wing, and Thunder did so, zooming down the passageway and into the shimmering grav-lift that formed the central column of the UFO. He dove down into the engine compartment, and found that the walls had buckled and torn on impact, and that the room was partially flooded with dirt. As he looked at the damage, he felt a pair of claws grab him from behind and he was brutally yanked out of the air as he was spun around to face the gaping maw of an Anthropod; the blue alien brought the Pegasus to his mouth, as if to bite his head off, only to find that an armoured hoof had been shoved to the back of his throat. The Anthropod had enough time for a confused gargle before the hammer of the matchlock pistol in Thunder’s hoof slammed into the gunpowder pan, igniting the powder and consequently, the charge in the barrel. The primitive projectile tore through the Anthropod’s tough outer hide on its way out of the monster’s neck. In the main room above him, Sterling had ran down the passageway and now knelt beside the grav lift, shotgun pointed at the aperture above. There was a grotesque squelching sound, and the bloated shape of a Multiworm appeared, its slug-like body propelling it along with little spurts of slime. Upon spying the Human, the Multiworm opened its immense jaws and hissed, before shuddering and throwing clods of acidic slime toward the human; they missed, and the Multiworm didn’t have time for another shot as the buckshot tore into it, ripping its belly open in a spray of acid and releasing its deadly payload. Two Hyperworms had survived the deadly spray of Sterling’s shotgun and were powering down the lift towards his, jaws agape, desperate to feed their voracious appetite. Sterling pumped his shotgun and sent a smoking cartridge flying into the dark corners of the UFO as AJ and Cameron stepped up to the mark and turned the worms into ash and goo. Fitzpatrick ran forward and dived into the grav lift’s water-like field. Orienting ‘down’ and kicking his legs, he emerged in the engine compartment in time to see Thunder execute an Anthropod with one of his pistols. “You alright?” “Fine.” Was Thunder’s reply as he wiped his bloodied hoof on the Anthropod’s corpse. “Let’s finish the rest eh?” Thunder stepped into the grav lift and gently flapped his wings though the seemingly-viscous air to take himself up, Fitzpatrick close behind. As the pair emerged in the main chamber, they were pulled out of the lift by Officers Jones and Kerlav; AJ, Sterling and Cameron aiming their weapons at the opening above, waiting to see if any curious aliens would march forward to their doom. After a minute of waiting, Sterling motioned for Thunder to come with him as he stepped into the grav lift. His shotgun never wavering from the opening several metres up, he kicked his legs as Fitzpatrick had and slowly rose. Thunder pressed his back against Sterling’s and ascended with him, each of them covering half of the opening. The Human and the Pony clambered out of the lift and took up ready positions as they found themselves in another hallway; one passage opened up into a wide open area filled with munitions, and the other led to what looked like some kind of cockpit or bridge, the wall space taken up with several strange devices that could be controls. “Clear.” Sterling called down the lift. AJ slung her rifle over her back and she powered up the lift with a strong breaststroke, before pulling herself out into the passageway, and positioning herself to cover the large open area. Cameron followed behind her, and started stepping toward the bridge area, plasma pistol raised to cover the hatchway. The other pistol equipped troops came up behind them and covered the area of most danger: The open area. Cameron lunged into the room and swung around to check the right-hand corner of the room; seeing nothing, he relaxed slightly before turning to check the left-hand side of the room. As he turned, a pink, humanoid shape came into view and he could hear the sound of gurgling and choking. Before he could bring his gun to bear, the Spitter had grabbed his wrists and jammed its funnel shaped maw onto his head, before disgorging the highly-acidic contents of its stomach onto Cameron’s face. Cameron opened his mouth to scream as the acid began dissolving his face and eyes, only to have the foul fluid flow down his neck and begin destroying his insides. Dr Joseph Cameron, one of the original twelve recruits of Mega-Primus’ X-COM initiative, died in the most horrific way possible, mere feet away from his oblivious comrades and the entirety of the breach team. *** As Kadzie picked his way through the shattered remains of the airlock, he dodged several bolts of energy from Disruptor-equipped aliens; pulling himself free of the clutches of the door, he leapt over the crumpled decking to separate an Anthropod’s head from its almost non-existent neck. “We of the Guild of Librarian’s are the ones that you must face!” The Librarian’s voice rang through the gloomy interior of the UFO as Tank came barrelling through the airlock, Disruptor fire ricocheting off of his shield in all directions; even cutting down one of the Anthropods firing at him. He slammed into the packed group of Anthropods like his namesake, the mechanical claws hanging over his head grabbing two of the aliens and tossing them casually over his shoulders as he pulped another with his impact hammer. His plasma lance was rammed through one Anthropod who remained hanging limply off the lance as the battle progressed. The lance was then shunted through the eye socket of another alien, whose shot was blocked by his dead comrade impaled on said lance. “For it is us who form the first line of defence!” A barrage of laser bolts were visible flying down the corridor; each bolt incinerating the millions of microscopic particles in the air, rendering each bolt visible to the naked eye. Such details mattered little to the troop of Skeletoids that were hovering near the ceiling, trying to get a good angle on the Librarian and Tank; as they were cut down with ruthless efficiency. Any that didn’t fall under the sustained laser barrage were violently thrown to the ground with great fountains of blood as Dominic followed Jester in, revolver roaring and bucking in his tight grip. “And although we must safeguard the past!” Crimson had abandoned his autorifle in favour of a laser pistol and his plasma knife, and he rushed past Dominic and Jester to join Kadzie and Tank in the melee. Ducking the vicious bladed arms of a swung Boomeroid, Crimson shot the offending Anthropod in the face, and the living proximity mine dropped to the floor, before flinging itself at the nearest moving target and detonating. The pathetic explosion did nothing more than tear the cloth that adorned the trio’s armour and remove Kadzie’s cloak from his shoulder. “And prepare for an unknown future!” Ryan strode into the open hallway bellowing “Everybody down!” After waiting a moment for everyone to comply, he pulled the trigger of the autocannon in his hands and swung the rotating barrels from side to side, sweeping the room clean of live aliens with a torrent of armour-piercing rounds. As the smoke cleared, the only sound that could be heard for several seconds was the soft tinkling of casings hitting the floor, and the ticking of the rapidly cooling autocannon. “It is also we who must secure the present from any and all who seek to harm us!” Kadzie finished, raising his sabre into the air as he scrambled to his feet. Bauxite-Shyvern entered the UFO in time to see Ryan cut down the aliens with his autocannon and hear Kadzie finish his speech. “Very impressive.” She said admiringly. The group turned and brandished their respective weapons at her, her sudden appearance taking them by surprise. The mare laughed, sounding uncannily like Jester, before she bared her teeth at the group; showing their razor sharp points. “If you did decide to fire, you would be dead before you even hit the ground.” She bragged. “I highly doubt that.” Bauxite-Shyvern coughed and cleared her throat, a small tongue of flame escaping from between her lips, before she scraped a hoof, partially shifted into a claw, along the wall, cutting a deep scratch into it. “Care to put your bits where your mouth is?” “Har har har har, I like her Sergeant, can we keep her?” Jester holstered her pistol. “Ryan, step away from the deadly dragon-pony.” *Whirr-thoom!* Kadzie executed a still wriggling Anthropod with a quick pulse of his Word. “Let that be your judge, jury, executioner and eulogy; beast.” “Nice preaching Librarian.” Tank said, giving him a light knock with his shield. “I know it was nice, I said it would be didn’t I!? Now, no more procrastinating, there is still more UFO to cover! Join us, Pony, and you shall fight like never before, and find glory in the furious mix of confusion and fighting that is a UFO clearing mission.” One of the Skeletoids behind Jester began to stir and get up, shaking its head to clear it; the banana coloured alien set its eyes on Jester and attempted to sneak up on her. Bauxite was about to cry a warning, before Jester swung around and clamped her bionic hand around the Skeletoid’s face. “Nuh uh you freak, next time, stay dead.” Jester hissed as she slowly closed her vice-like fingers, crushing the Skeletoid’s skull. Dropping the Skeletoid’s defiled corpse, Jester turned back to Bauxite. “It’s only going to get more violent sweetie, still coming?” She said with false sweetness. Bauxite nodded, her form bulking out as she shifted into something that wasn’t entirely pony, nor entirely dragon; a form that was the best balance between size and strength in these tight environs, her fiery orange coat blending seamlessly into scales of a similar hue. She opened her lengthened mouth and spoke, her voice sounding rougher and more… bestial. “Ready when you are.” Before the group could continue, a distraught voice was unwittingly broadcast over the entire squad-net radio. “Oh God no! Cameron!” The sound of a laser rifle on full auto distorted the signal and sent short pulses of static over the air. “You fucking son a bitch! We’ve won and you fucking killed him!” The laser shots didn’t stop for a long time. “AJ, stop, it’s dead.” A different voice, presumably Fitzpatrick. The laser rifle stopped firing and all was silent except the hiss of dead air before the sound of muffled sobbing came over the radio. Jester shook as she raised her radio to her mouth. “Uh, that was just broadcasted across the whole net, is Cameron…?” “Shit-yeah, yeah he is.” Fitzpatrick replied. All was silent for a minute. A respectful silence, before AJ’s voice came over the net again, her tone hard and voice breaking. “I’m going to kill them. Every last fucking one of them.” “AJ!” Laser fire and alien screeches. “Fuck it! Come on!” The radio clicked off. Jester looked at her squad, their faces were hard, and there were a few traces of tears. “This just got really fucking personal.” Ryan’s sentiments were matched by the rest of them, and they got ready to move deeper into the UFO, thoughts of vengeance singing in their ears. *** The Anthropod that was hiding in the archway where the grav lift corridor met the munitions store had never expected the red-faced Human; her hair, lacking its usual ponytail, flying about her face and obscuring her blue, natural eye, leaving only the demonic red bionics visible. The Anthropod had next-to-no time to acknowledge this as she thrust her laser rifle into its gut. X-COM had never used bayonets, nor had they ever been trained in using them; but AJ’s rage and grief was such that a bayonet would have been overkill. The barrel of the rifle was impaled deep within the Anthropod, and it was cooked from within when AJ pulled the trigger again and again. A Popper; tiny, front heavy bipeds with a mouthful of needle-like teeth and a body full of volatile chemicals; came running at AJ as she wrenched her rifle out of the dead Anthropod. Seeing the light blue beast charging her, she turned to address it; a shot from her rifle would kill it, but the resulting explosion would kill or maim her too. Not wanting to lose another eye, AJ ran up to the Popper and met it head on with a powerful kick that launched it back across the room. AJ sent a grenade chasing after the popper and turned to face the rest of the room. Spying a group of the pink-skinned Spitters, their thin, frail limbs twitching in fear; AJ screamed her grief to them and hosed them with laser shots, scorching pink skin into a charred black, and slaying them where they stood. As her grenade detonated, the dazed Popper died and it burst apart, the volatile mixtures in its body mixing and reacting violently, causing a secondary explosion that blew apart one of the Disruptors out with a tongue of flame that escaped out through the firing port. Distracted, AJ lowered her guard, and a Hyperworm slithered up to her at dizzying speed and sank its teeth into the leg. AJ cried out and stumbled while the voracious worm thrashed and shook, attempting to tear off a piece of her calf; but its efforts where stopped when it was torn in two by a burst of laser beams. Before AJ could continue her suicidal charge, a hand grabbed her by the shoulder, and a pair of jaws clamped around the other; Thunder and Sterling dragged her back to the relative safety of the corridor. Before AJ could protest, a gloved hand slammed into her temple, and she was knocked out cold. “I’m so sorry AJ.” Fitzpatrick’s tone was remorseful, and he winced as he shook his sore hand. Turning to the group he asked: “Can you finish this while I take her out and to-“ He paused, frowning. “Did Cameron ever train a replacement medic?” Sterling shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, MegaPol and X-COM are two different organisations.” “I shall take AJ, Mr President; you should carry out the unfortunate Dr Cameron.” A thickly-accented voice spoke up. The big officer, Victor Kerlav, spoke slowly and deliberately. Fitzpatrick looked at the mutilated corpse of Cameron, before wincing and nodding. “It’s not a nice task Fitzpatrick; but if not you, then who? AJ? What would be the most appropriate in this situation? Me? No, not me, nor Jones, nor Sterling, and not the Pony. Your history and seniority makes you the most appropriate Mr President.” Fitzpatrick carried Cameron carefully and gently, arm behind what little remained of his head and the other under his knees. “Not a President anymore Victor, just another bloke now.” Sterling watched the two leave, then waved over Beth Jones and Thunder. “Look, we need to keep our heads here, there can’t be more than about 4 left, but any single one of them can kill us like ‘that’” He said, snapping his fingers for emphasis. Beth and Thunder nodded silently, faces grim. At some unspoken signal, the trio rose to their hooves and feet, and set about clearing the rest of the UFO. *** “-and AJ?” Fitzpatrick swallowed. “I-uh-incapacitated her Xander, she was near-suicidal.” Xander nodded, his face blank and unreadable; even his mind was shut to Celestia. Only Xander knew what Xander was thinking… And Xander was pissed. “Good work Fitzpatrick, you made the right decision. Celestia! Fuck you and your wants, I’m incinerating the rest of the UFOs; and I don’t give a flying fuck about the farmland you’ll lose. There’s a whole lot of world out there, and 400 of us, and I’m not going to be responsible for another death. There’s far too much blood on my hands for that.” Celestia was silent, acknowledging the Human with but a nod. She was… afraid of this Human. The fire in his eyes and the anger in his heart was astonishing; the tell-tale signs of someone who has lived too long and seen too much. “Jester, I’m pulling you and your squad out, get the hell out of that UFO before I call in an airstrike on it. I-“ Xander’s voice almost broke, and he took a deep breath the steady himself. “I’m not going to let any more of you die, okay?” “Yes commander.” Xander walked off and up the ramp of the Skyranger. It would be the last time anyone but Mkoll saw him alive. *** Weapons Officer Evans continued her work long after the sun had set over Equestria. Captain Blaine and Dr Bezial never left the bridge either, Blaine steering and Bezial providing the two with company. “Fish.” Evans spoke as she pushed what was colloquially known as either ‘the big red un’’ or the ‘pickle button’ and the Zeus Cannon fired again, lights dimming and hull shaking as per usual, and another UFO wreck was wiped from the face of Equestria. “Hmmm… Scales.” “This one is appropriate considering the reports that that Scholar has sent after his interviews. Dragon.” Back around to Evans. She was a lover of mythology and fantasy, and thoughts of dragons brought only authors to mind. “Alisha Feeny-Langton.” Captain Blaine’s eyes crossed. “Who?” Dr Bezial responded. “Famous Fantasy author.” “Ah… well then, books.” “The Librarian wouldn’t appreciate you saying that; not a single story of Alisha’s came out in print, it was all digital works, no paper wasted. But I suppose if you say books I’ll have to say-“ Bezial was interrupted by the repeated chirping of something secreted away in one of the many pockets of her white coat. Pulling the offending object out, she frowned at it for a moment before her face fell and her eyes softened as she realized what the alarm was. “Oh Xander.” She murmured, closing her eyes as she did so. “Rest easy old friend.” Blain and Evans looked at Bezial quizzically. She didn’t answer, not at first; after muttering some words meant only for her to hear, she addressed her two companions on the bridge. “Xander asked me to modify his harness several weeks ago. A… shut-down, if you will; that alarm signifies the activation of that shutdown.” Her words took a moment to sink in, but both Blaine and Evans realized what Bezial had meant. *** To say that Mkoll was in shock would be a gross understatement. He was in the cockpit of Mercury, sitting in the pilot’s seat, looking out at the beautiful Equestrian landscape from atop a tall mountain somewhere to the North of Harvest. His heart raced as his mind went through the events of the past hour… “Mkoll, come to the Mercury would you? We need to talk.” The voice had emanated from the radio on Mkoll’s hip, and it sounded tired, weary and weak. Mkoll realised with a start that it was Xander. In all the many years that Mkoll had known the Commander, he had never known him to sound anything other than strong, confident and seemingly indefatigable. Mkoll wasn’t some awestruck fool, he knew that some of it had to be an act, but Xander had always put up a very convincing façade. Without bothering to acknowledge Xander verbally, Mkoll instead made his excuses to the man he was helping unload one of the laden airtrans’; with the man’s jovial scolding following him, Mkoll made his way toward the silent form of his craft. As Mkoll made his way up the ramp, he noticed how dark the interior was, it was about dusk, and the sun was low in the sky; Mkoll would have turned on the crew compartment lights by now, but Xander had left them conspicuously dark. “Xander?” He called, slowly limping into the crew compartment. He recived no verbal reply, but the ramp closed behind him with a soft thud, and the engines began whining as they slowly spun up to speed. “Otto what the hell?” “The cockpit, Rod.” There it was again; the voice of a man that sounded every single one of his 104 years. Mkoll strode into the cockpit and sat in the co-pilot’s seat, awkwardly dragging his mechanical leg up and over the stick controls so he could sit comfortably. Xander was sat in the pilot’s seat, and had his hands on the controls. As Mkoll buckled in, Xander pulled on the controls and Mercury lifted into the air. “What’s the matter Otto? And where are we headed?” Xander sighed a very long sigh and his breath caught in his throat as he turned to Mkoll. It was clear by the look in the man’s puffy red eyes that he had been crying. Another impossibility, Xander didn’t cry, he never had any need to. “How long have we been friends, Rod?” Mkoll thought for a moment, before coming up with a number, a pleasingly high one. “I’ve known you since 2060 sir, when you took command of the X-COM Interceptor team.” Xander smiled a small, sad smile. “That’s how long I’ve been your commanding officer. How long have I been your friend?” Mkoll thought harder, casting his mind back twenty years and then some, searching for the moment that Mkoll had stopped thinking of Xander as a commander, and as more of a peer, an equal. A friend. “Since June 2061 Otto, when you refused to leave my hospital room after they implanted the leg.” “That’s more like it.” Xander continued flying in silence, the town of Harvest far behind them. A mountain range appeared on the horizon and Xander oriented on it, pushing the throttle to maximum. “Where are we going Otto?” “As of about 5 seconds ago, we are heading for somewhere in that mountain range, somewhere with a nice view.” Xander’s quirky behaviour showed no signs of letting up, and every so often his chest would hitch as if something was caught in his throat. As they neared the mountain range, a large-mouthed cave could be seen, with a large cliff, or a plateau, in front of it. Xander pointed Mercury’s nose toward the flat ground and came in to land. The wheels touched down with a bump and a gentle squeak, and the engines throttled down as the wings folded inward, flush to the body of the Skyranger. Without saying a word, Xander sat in the seat for a moment as he turned all of the instruments off, but he left the landing lights on; after doing this, he unbuckled and walked out of the cockpit. Mkoll followed him wordlessly. Catching up to the old man as he plodded down the deck, Mkoll decided to ask the question he had been wanting to ask for the last 5 minutes. “Otto, why did you call me? And bring me… here?” Mkoll looked over the edge off the cliff at a glorious landscape, beautiful even in the half-light of dusk. A large, dark green expanse of forest stretched as far as the eye could see in one direction, with a small village just at the outskirts of the foreboding treeline. Off in the distance, beyond the village, lay another mountain range, this one had a city hanging off the side of the mountain, covered with turrets and minarets and all sorts of fantastical architecture, grand enough to be seen even at this great distance. “I came here to do something I’ve wanted to do for so long, and I brought you so I could explain why; it would be too cold and cruel to simply leave a note.” “I don’t quite understand.” Xander exhaled and looked out toward the mountain-city and the far horizon. “Mkoll, you’re my oldest living friend, do you know how long I’ve lived?” It was a rhetorical question, and Xander continued just as Mkoll opened his mouth to answer. “One hundred and four years, Rod; that’s a ridiculously long time to live. I’ve seen so much change and wonder in my time, but I’ve also seen so many horrors and so much darkness.” “I joined X-COM way back in 1999, an entire age ago, at the delicate age of nineteen; I had little education, having worked on my parents farm in Austria since I was old enough to handle the equipment, but my brother went into the army when I was fifteen. He went through his training and passed with flying colours, an exemplary officer; he was given the chance to join an international team that was being assembled to fight some as-of-then unknown threat.” “This was the earliest of early days for this organisation, and the name wasn’t even classified: ‘The X-COM Initiative’. I was eighteen when I read that letter with my parents, and it was the last one we ever received from him. The next letter we got regarding him was so heavily censored it looked like the paper had started off black and the white gaps had been painted in afterwards; the only words that actually made sense where: ‘KIA’, ‘On a mission’, ‘A true hero’. At the bottom of the letter was a name, and the half-censored name of the organisation; the name, ‘Roscoe Ulysses Sirius’, and the word ‘Initiative’.” “By that time I was nineteen and feeling adventurous, I wanted to fight foes, and get vengeance for my brother’s death, and what better way to do it than to fight the same enemy that had killed him. I joined the army, and after mentioning the word ‘X-COM’ to the recruiter as I signed up, I was led into a truck which to me to an airport, which took me to Italy, which took me to the site of the X-COM Initiative. I joined at ground level, and fought in over two hundred UFO clearing missions, dozens of Terror Missions, ten or so base assaults, and a half-dozen defences. By the time the assault on Mars had been planned and was in the process of being executed, I had reached the lofty rank of ‘Commander’. A title that would curse me with a century of hell to come.” “We won, of course, and we were lauded as heroes. The X-COM Initiative was hailed as the most successful prolonged military taskforce in Human history. All was well until 2040, when the colony ship at the bottom of the sea awoke, and T’Leth became the new Cydonia. By then I was 59, not exactly a spring chicken, so I had a background leadership role, and the only time I ever had to face our aquatic foes was during the one attack on our floating base. That was when I was shredded by that bastard of a Lobsterman, and was crippled for life.” Xander gestured to the frame that he had worn for half his life. “This thing used to be so primitive compared to what it is today; but it got me around, and I recovered, and led X-COM to another decisive victory. Then, no rest for the wicked! As I’m pulled out of retirement in 2060 to deal with alien attacks on the frontier! I was informed that I would be ‘Thunderbolt Flight’s Commanding Officer.’ And that was when I led you, Alex, and Christine to a victory for Earth and Humanity, at the cost of Alex and Chrissy.” Xander’s eyes started welling with tears. “And I felt so guilty, I felt like such a failiure, it felt like their lives had been in my hands and I had dropped them to smash on the cold, hard floor of life. So I tried to make it up; I spent some of my fortune on your top-notch leg, and stayed with you for months as you recovered. Of course, that you know.” The tears in Xander’s eyes were flowing freely now, and the distraught old man continued his monologue. “Then… Mega-Primus, a terrible, beautiful, deathtrap of an ark; our worst and best hope at survival on our polluted planet. When I hit one hundred and four I thought that I could just sit back and wait for death to claim me, but no!” He angrily kicked a rock off of the cliff, his face wet with tears. “They called me back! Fitzpatrick, that piece of shit pulled me into the base and gave me a list of people and said ‘we need your help for the X-COM Initiative, Mega-Primus Branch.’ And I just went along with it. The only people that survived the first month that were on that list were Cameron, Atlanta, and Titus. And then, when we thought that we had the edge, that we had won, when we started to relax in the lull-zone of the war, we were outplayed and destroyed.” “And now we’re here!” Xander’s voice echoed over the village and forest, and rebounded around the mountain range for a long time before it faded. “I’ve done so much, lost so much, and taken the fall for so much. But Roderick, my friend, consider this my last order: I want a monument here, on this plateau, dedicated to Earth and all those lost. We should bury Cameron here too.” Xander wiped his wet face and dried his eyes before looking Mkoll in the eyes for the first time in 30 minutes. Bloodshot, old, tired eyes looked back at Mkoll’s green orbs and they welled with tears as he watched. “Bury me here too, I like the view.” With those final words, Xander closed his eyes and activated the kill-switch built into the ancient harness that was supporting his frail old frame. The 104 year-old legend, the man who never lost, and the most powerful psychic ever; died on a windy plateau as the sun set on an alien world.