//------------------------------//
// Aftermath 
// Story: The Devil's Toys 
// by WeakOptimizationProcess 
//------------------------------//

"Squad leader, Big Sky is on its way and will arrive at your position shortly. Begin making your way to the extraction point immediately!"

"Solid copy, Central. We'll—" Vega began to reply to Bradford, only to be cut off as the ship lurched violently and caused him to stumble. He fell to the ground and cried out in anguish, gritting his teeth and clutching the plasma burn on his chest. Johnson whisked a medikit off her armor as she rushed over. She gently moved his hand away from the wound and applied the concoction of drugs. Vega winced in pain from the stinging of the various sedatives and healing agents.

"Any idea where we are right now?" he asked once he regained as much composure as he could.

Gibson turned to face him. "I'm not sure, but if I had to guess, I'd go with space!" she said sarcastically.

"Thank you, Gibson," came the equally sarcastic reply. "Now that we've established that, we need to figure out our next move. As I recall, Shen mentioned something about the alien homeworld, and I don't want to arrive there without being prepared."

"You are not figuring out anything. You have a severe wound to recover from on an alien ship that may not be landing anytime soon," Johnson said sternly.

"Dammit Johnson, I don't have time for this! I need to—"

"No, you need to get some rest."

"But—"

"But nothing!" Johnson looked at Zhang. "Zhang, could you please help me move Vega into a different room where he can recover?"

"My pleasure," he replied as he walked over to where Vega lay. The two able-bodied soldiers picked up Vega and carried him into the nearest room as gently as they could. There wasn't anywhere convenient to leave him, so they just put him down on the floor.

"You better update me on our situation when I wake up," Vega got out through his once-again-gritted teeth. It turned out Zhang wasn't the best person to have carry injured around.

"I'll update you when I think you're ready and not a moment sooner," Johnson said in a tone that allowed for no compromise. She and Zhang returned to the bridge, where the other soldiers were discussing their predicament.

"So first we have to land this thing, and then we have to survive on a planet full of hostiles. Why are we trying to prepare for this again?" Gibson asked.

"Well, we've proven we can fly the battleship. And there's no guarantee we'll end up at the enemy's homeworld," Kerrigan replied, trying to be optimistic.

Gibson snorted. "We proved we can fly this thing? That was all Vahlen and Shen! And hoping we don't end up at the homeworld won't help us if we do arrive there."

Dutta decided it was his turn to speak up. "I, for one, agree with Kerrigan. Who here joined XCOM just to give up when things got a little tougher?"

"I certainly didn't," Zhang replied as he walked into the room. When he reached the spot where his LMG lay, he picked it up and pulled the clip out. "I'd much rather be prepared to give the aliens a fight," he said while reloading it. "And as the highest ranking soldier here, I get to make the final call."

Gibson threw her cybernetic limbs in the air. "Okay, I give up! Clearly none of you are willing to listen to reason!" she shouted in frustration.

"No, we're just not willing to listen to pessimism," Kerrigan rebutted.

"Same thing."

Upon hearing that, Kerrigan paused for a moment. "Oh really? How are they the same thing exactly?"

"Well—"

"Enough! Stop bickering over something you can't control!" Johnson interrupted. "Zhang is the highest rank not in critical condition, so he makes the decision now."

Zhang, having come to his first decision, started taking charge. "Thank you, Johnson. The first thing we will do is collect all resources as if this was the end of a successful mission."

"We have to waste our time gathering corpses and weapon fragments!" Gibson complained.

Zhang glared sharply at Gibson, causing the MEC trooper to involuntarily take a half step back. "I will not tolerate insubordination, Sergeant. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good." Zhang turned to address the rest of the squad. "Why are you standing there? Get to work!"





Bradford was a very stoic individual. He could watch a soldier be mutilated by a chryssalid and not even blink. This was a necessity since he watched people die far more often than anyone should ever have to. Unfortunately for him, this talent didn't help with enduring the pain at all. So as he walked over to the Situation Room to give his latest report to the Council, he only appeared to be unaffected by recent events. In truth he was distraught both from the result of Operation Gangplank and the soon-to-occur judgement of that result, though mostly from the former.

As he walked into the room at the preappointed time, a silhouette of the Council's spokesman materialized on the screen dominating the wall in front of him. As always, the spokesman sat with a perfectly straight back and folded hands. His face could not be made out, and his surroundings included nothing but a desk, a light, and a wall.

"We are extremely impressed with the progress of the XCOM project thus far, Commander. However, your most recent mission has left some members of the Council... concerned. While we are pleased that you were able to drive away the alien battleship, the loss of XCOM's best soldiers and equipment is disturbing."

Well, here goes nothing, Bradford thought nervously. "There was no way we could afford the bombardment of Council nations. If we failed to stop the battleship, it would have destroyed our supporting countries and ended this project. As far as I'm concerned, the risk of losing our best men was more than acceptable if it would increase our chances of taking that thing down."

"I shall inform the Council of your viewpoint on the situation. Do you have anything else to add?"

Increase our funding. By a lot. "No, nothing more."

"Very well, Commander. Remember, we will be watching."

Bradford sighed in relief as the screen flickered off. He wiped the sweat from his brow, then turned and walked out the door. He knew he wasn't out of the woods yet, but he had at least gotten a brief respite.