On the frontier of a certain sector of space, there existed a world that was the definition of peace, at least, from the viewpoints of many others. The world spun around slowly, unknowing of the sphere that was around it and its sun. Creatures below went about their daily business, unconcerned with anything that might be happening above them in the “stars” that glinted in the sky.
In a small town, in appearance of the medieval age, polychromatic beings trotted around, starting on their morning routine.
In that small town, there existed a certain tree, where a certain lavender librarian resided, carefully cataloging all of her research books and materials, when a loud explosion rattled the tree. Outside of the window, a fireball streaked through the cloudless sky, flying beings barely scattering before it impacted just outside of the town. The librarian, both curious and frightened, decided to investigate.
The strange object was box-like, and long. Two large cylinders jutted from the sides, bent at awkward angles. A large tubular device strapped to the front was sparking, bright green energy spraying every few minutes into an increasingly deepening hole. Strange armour-like pieces were scattered around, blood streaked across them. Barely legible letters were visible on the side of the box. The librarian levitated a rag, wiping away the grime and dust. The name made her step back, an unconscious desire to run overtaking her. “AVENGER” was printed, some of the lettering badly burnt. Her attention was diverted when she heard gasping from the front of the object. Rounding the corner of it, she was shocked to find three creatures, bleeding badly. One held its hand up, its voice raspy.
“Help... us...”
LOG -:- FIVE DAYS EARLIER
“The frontier worlds are dangerous places, kid. Even way back in the day, XCOM would have thought twice about going out by themselves on a rickety old bucket. You may think you're safe with your antique laser rifle, and that Elerium-powered Power Suit, but you won't be safe from a lot of the enemies out there.” An older gentleman stood against the wall, his dark blue armour glinting in the light. “I'm amazed they still let me use this old armour. Those aliens we faced out on the frontier, well, this armour would be like tissue paper to it.” The person he was talking to turned from a large, heavy suit of antiquated XCOM powered armour. His blond hair was streaked with grime, his tan arms scratched up from his hours of work. His uniform, although old, showed the XCOM badge on the shoulder.
“I understand that, Cap, but this is for me. I want to find where my father and his Avenger ended up. He had twelve of the best XCOM had to offer with him, and they all disappeared. No trace. Considering how old some of this equipment is, I'm surprised I was able to pick it up for less than twenty thousand Universal Credits. Add into that the Avenger that I was given to tinker with, and I'm sitting on the most expensive pile of antiques this side of Sirius.” He picked up a glowing red rifle, rubbing the top with special care. “I had to build this baby from scratch. XCOM during the First Alien War had the right idea with a recharging power pack. Too bad they didn't have it when those aquatic aliens attacked in the Second Alien War.” He aimed down the sights, targeting a large, comic-style picture of an alien that had been fought years before. A single pull of the trigger, and a crimson beam issued forth, torching the picture.
“At least the tech's solid. You know, your mother, if she were still alive-”
“Would be discouraging me. I'm my own man now. I've got five people willing to come with me. Five people missing parts of their families too. Parts that remained with my father when he dropped off the grid.” He set the rifle down, being careful not to let it fall onto the wiring that he had wedged into various areas of the powered armour.
“So, you've got yourself a squad, then. Well, I would recommend a smaller ship, but the Avenger is the only one still space-worthy. Hopefully they're armed as well?” The younger man nodded, returning to working on the armour.
“Mainly older plasma and Gauss weaponry. Built from blueprints, mind you, which means they're more efficient than before. Most of the parts you can get built in full parts instead of just components.” He sat down in an old chair that sat beside the armour, leaning back as it creaked. “Makes it a lot more efficient, but it just doesn't feel like the real deal, you know?” Cap stared down at the young man in interest now.
“Plasma and Gauss, eh? Haven't seen those used on the battlefield in forever. Don't forget how heavy some of those plasma guns were. They need to be careful, or they might end up frying each other.” The young man stood up before he doubled over, laughing.
“Don't worry, Cap! I'm sure they'll be fine!”
LOG -:- PRESENT TIME + CRASH SITE
One of the three living beings grasped a twisted section of the outside of the Avenger, hauling itself up. Its head had two weird shaped eyes, which the lavender librarian could not decipher as to why one was much smaller than the other, before the “head” fell off as it stood up. Half of its apparent face was burnt, with what she could only call its “mane” barely holding onto a burned scalp.
“Aliens... coming... must... stop... aliens...” It lost its grip, falling down from the Avenger. Landing face-first, one could hear it begin to snore. The librarian shook her head. It had fallen asleep.
LOG -:- THREE DAYS EARLIER
“We've scanned the planet six times. There's nothing there, no life, no settlements, at least, nothing our sensors pick up, anyways.” One of the five of the young man's squad gripped tightly on his chair, his blue-painted powered suit burned on one shoulder.
“Well, we should touch down. This is closer to where my father's Avenger was last seen.” Another squad member lifted his plasma rifle as he glanced nervously around. His armour was black.
“I'm really not too sure we should be messing with this. I mean, we almost lost Smith on the last world.” The young man sighed, turning to look at the squad's medic, an older gentleman in white and red armour.
“He's right, sir. Smith almost bought the farm. That's never a good thing. He's our engineer.” The medic returned to his station, looking over various diagrams and technical documents. The leader, the young man in brown powered armour, shook his head.
“We have to go down there. Helm, scan for dispersed radio signals. Find anything!” He clenched his fist, slamming it down on his seat's armrest. He hoped the planet they found themselves orbiting would hold the residual signal that would lead to his father, to the highest ranked squad in XCOM, ever. Of all time. He rubbed his chin lightly with his hand, staring at the viewscreen in front of him.
“Sir? We're detecting radio signals, but they're not from any XCOM or human craft, sir.” The view-screen lit up, designating several UFO signatures. Bright green glows built up on the fronts.
“Evasive maneuvers! Get us into the atmosphere!” The helmsman complied, dropping into a lower orbit as to glide through the atmosphere, preventing much of the usual re-entry problems.
“Sir! I can't shake them! Sir-” The helmsman was cut short as his console exploded, sending a large chunk of alien alloy through his stomach. He was dead before he hit the ground.
“Grayson! Doc, get his body out of- oh no.” The young man turned to see the medic tumbling backwards, a piece of alloy wedged right between his eyes. “No. This is not happening!” Smith, the engineer, entered the bridge, wordlessly taking the helm as he secured his helmet.
“Sir, keep yourself together. This world was ashes anyways. There's another planet in this system, looks like it could sustain life. If we could land there-”
“Do it!”
LOG -:- PRESENT TIME + CRASH SITE
The other two “bodies” began to stir and awaken, groaning as they moved. One had sustained severe burning to one arm, while the other had large gashes up and down his back.
“Smith? You awake?”
“Yeah, I am, Faraday. The question is, did we make it, or are we dead?” They turned to see long drag marks in the ground. Smith removed his helmet, the auto-light adjustments no longer keeping the night out. “Night-time. Huh. First time for everything, eh?” Smith stood up slowly, bones creaking and popping as he straightened out. “We need to find the commander, assess the situation. Those were Cydonian-type UFOs, a type not seen since-”
“Yeah, the first Alien War. I know the reports like the back of my hand. The question is, do you know the implications of what is beginning to happen?”
“Faraday, I'm not open to speculation until we have a working base of operations, and a few weapons we can use. If those aliens attack again, we might have to make a stand, maybe commandeer one of their ships. I could potentially fly one.” He swung his arm around, mimicking a plane. “Like flying a plane in terrestrial airspace.” He sat down, staring at the sky.
“Smith, I understand we need to find the boss, but right now, our priorities should be to establish base camp. Here in the Avenger's wreckage should suffice. It's got the computers, the blueprints, the protection we need.”
LOG -:- SIX HOURS EARLIER
“Sir! I still can't shake them! We're losing engine power! I can see if I can crash us on that planet! It won't be a good landing, but any landing that you can walk away from is a good one!” Smith wrestled with the controls, nosing down towards the planet, and away from the UFOs that had shown themselves.
“Do it! Drop us out of orbit! Crash us if you have to, but get us away from them!” The Avenger began to burn as it entered the atmosphere, chunks flying off and melting in the heat of re-entry.
“Sir! We're shaking apart!” The view-screen lit up, pointing out several inhabited areas. “There's life here, sir! This planet is inhabited!” The Avenger streaked through the sky like a burning meteorite, armour continuously melting off in the immense heat.
“That's a town, Smith! Drop us outside of that town! Faraday, strap yourself in! This is going to hurt!”
LOG -:- PRESENT TIME + CRASH SITE
Faraday stood up, helping Smith stand before glancing around. The Avenger was not as badly wrecked as they previously thought, most of the destruction contained within a small crater where the craft now sat. Whistling, he slid open the side door, allowing Grayson's dead body to tumble out, followed by Doc. Smith removed his helmet, checking a camera attached to the side.
“The helmet-cam is still operational. A testament to adventure engineering, I suppose.” He replaced his helmet, clambering inside the Avenger. The inside was a complete mess. Helm was all but destroyed, and was still sparking. The weapon locker was across the room, the front end towards the ground. Smith grabbed one side, hauling it up to where he could unlock it. The commander's laser rifle was still in there, along with Smith and Faraday's Gauss rifles. Faraday heaved a relieved sigh.
“Well, Grayson and the Doc's plasma rifles are gone. They probably had them on them. Hopefully they're inert.” With their rifles now in their possession, Faraday and Smith sealed their helmets in preparation for any alien chemical attacks.
LOG -:- PRESENT TIME + UNKNOWN LOCATION
The commander woke up with a start, grasping around with instinct for his laser rifle. His armour was missing, with a small blanket barely covering his genitals. He stared around the room he found himself in. Everything in his brain screamed a trap, except for a small voice he had not heard in a very long time. His curiosity had returned with a vengeance, barely kept in check as he ran through his mental checklist. Was he without weapons and protection? Yes. Was he in some sort of alien examination room, being prepped for surgical interrogation? He glanced around. He was in some sort of library, so he was in no immediate danger. However, there was what seemed to be a heart monitor and something else he could not quite place. Was he still in an unfamiliar place, without any information or backup? That was a given. He stood up, looking around. The blanket fell off, eliciting a small squeak from a source he could not place. Taking two steps forward, he slammed his forehead into a low-hanging beam, knocking himself backwards. When he sat up, he saw, for the first time in his foggy memory, something which would either make him have a heart attack out of the sheer adorableness, or run for the nearest door, keeping his distance from it.
It was a lavender equine, with a horn.
Blushing. Suffice to say, the commander had no particular idea at all how to react to such a thing, besides the fact she was staring intently at his groin. Instinctively he covered it, averting her eyes to his face.
“I'm guessing it's not every day a naked guy ends up in your apartment.” The stream of syllables that flowed from the equine's mouth scared him, to be perfectly honest. So many words in so little time, he wondered if it was related to some of the XCOM eggheads back on Earth, the speed at which they spoke. “Whoa! Slow down, slow down! I can't understand you if you keep speaking that fast!” It seemed to understand, slowing the speech to an understandable level.
“How did you come here? What was that metal suit you were wearing? Where are you from? Are you here to harm us? Are we an experiment of interest to a being such as you-” The commander held his hand up, trying to calm down the ecstatic equine.
“Classified, classified, not gonna tell you, no, and good grief, no!” He looked at the edge of the room. There was his coveralls, freshly clean. Pain shot from the side of his face. He felt his face, just noticing the bandages wrapped around his head. As he looked back at the equine in front of him, a small explosion reached his ears. With a start, he forgot about the towel, standing up quickly.
“The Avenger!”