> Research Project: Sparkle
>  by Axquirix
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Operation: Rising Star, Part One
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A man’s thick-soled boot trod down on firm ground, careful to avoid stray twigs lying on the forest floor. The fabric of his tough trousers brushed against a large fir tree as he leaned against it, cautiously peeping around its bulk at the ground up ahead. His target was up ahead: stood on four thin legs, alongside a few others of its inhuman kind. There was a good fifty feet of distance before the treeline, maybe another hundred feet of open glen beyond that. One hundred and fifty feet between him and his target. The man set his teeth firmly against each other, gaining determination for his next action.
Slowly, steadily, he brought the long, slender rifle he held in both hands up to bear. The lens cap on the telescopic sight came off, silently placed into a storage pocket kept empty just for the purpose. The man planted his feet firmly into the ground, preparing for the recoil from his weapon. He had one shot at this, there would be no time for repeat shots or reloads.
He placed his eye to the sight.
He lined up the crosshairs over his target’s chest, roughly over where the heart would be located.
He squeezed the trigger gently, taking up the slack before the weapon would fire.
He took one last, steady breath, before holding it and adjusting his aim one final time.
His target glanced up, looking directly at him.
CRACK!
Clouds of birds scattered from the treetops, a cacophony of squawking rising as they fled from their lofty perches. A squirrel shot across the ground in terror, leaping at a tree and scaling its bark with unsurpassed haste. The herd of deer that the hunter had been aiming for bolted, fleeing for the opposite treeline, abandoning their glen to the explosive noise.
The huntsman lifted his finger from the trigger sharply, his ears ringing painfully. He hadn’t actually fired yet, and he didn’t want to waste a shot due to being startled. It was only due to his steadied breathing and rested state that he hadn’t clenched his hand in fright. He steadily lowered the rifle in his hands and looked around, searching for the source of the sound with his eyes since his ears had become unresponsive for the moment.
He didn’t have to look very far; a small patch of woodland nearby had been charred, blackened with soot but thankfully not set aflame. The darkened patch was circular, roughly five feet in diameter, and certainly not vacant. In the centre of the charcoal patch there lay something small, lumpy, and… purple?
It was a hairy-looking shapeless blob, and it steadily pulsed, getting slightly bigger and then smaller, as if it was breathing. The hunter steadily brought his rifle to bear on the lump before approaching it. These were dangerous enough times as it were, and letting his guard down would just be foolish. Making sure to keep his feet just outside the charred circle, the hunter gently prodded the perplexing purple protuberance with the muzzle of his weapon. There was no reaction, so he gave it a bit of a sharper jab. Still, no response came. The hunter bit the inside of his lower lip, thinking for a second. Whatever this thing was, it was out cold.
Curiosity won out over caution at this point, and the hunter used the butt of his rifle to push the lilac mass over, trying to get a better idea of what it was. It unfolded as he rolled it, a set of four legs, a head, two... were those wings? And a lot of dark purple hair loosely flopping out from its main frame. The creature, whatever it was, lacked any defined muscle, but its body and limbs looked fairly thick throughout. Its legs didn’t seem to have any feet or claws, they just sort of stopped. Its face wasn’t exactly normal either – judging by its eyebrows, the eyes were far too large, and there was some sort of odd pointy thing poking out from its forehead. All in all, the uncurled mass just looked weird.
Alien, even.
The huntsman wasted no time after that: he took out a satellite phone and dialled, 9-1-1. He grumbled a little as he waited for the call to connect – this was exactly the sort of thing he’d come out here to avoid, and he’d been living off of his own skill for the better part of a year.
“911,” the operator began, “May I take a call back number in case the call is disconnected?” The hunter quickly rattled off the number for his phone, hearing the girl on the other end of the line tapping keys on a computer as he spoke. “What is the nature of your emergency?” She proceeded.
The hunter gritted his teeth against the word as he spoke it; “Alien activity.”


***


Stamping boots. Clattering weapons. Clear, concise commands. A hydraulics door closed, and the craft attached to it blasted its engines to maximum output, lifting out of the underground hangar and accelerating away from it.
The men and women sat in the craft were silent. They had their orders. None of them were raw recruits; all present had had previous experience with the enemy. All had survived in a field where survival was a respectable achievement.
“We’ve had a report of alien activity in Canada,” Their superior, Officer Bradford, had briefed them, “a single extra-terrestrial was encountered out in the Northwest Territories, miles from the nearest urban centre. We’ve had a brief description of the target, and it isn’t anything we’ve encountered before. It’s possible that this is a hoax, but given recent events we’re playing safe with this. The target was confirmed to be subdued and unharmed from its discovery, and has yet to re-awaken, so if possible we’d like to bring it in that way. 
“Colonel Henderson,” He nodded towards a man clad in all-black armour, complete with helmet, and carrying a decidedly unwieldy-looking weapon, “will be the commander on the ground for this mission. Captains Walker and Walker,” He indicated a pair of soldiers in similar armour, but a standard red colour, and whose helmets matched more than their firearms did, “will be in charge of keeping the target subdued. You’ll both be equipped with Arc Throwers for this purpose. Since we aren’t currently aware of what abilities this X-ray might have, Captain Pimenova,” he gestured to a Russian woman wearing her blonde hair pinned back, “will be assigned to psionic impedance, and Major Li and Captain Guseva will be providing additional fire support if hostilities become unavoidable,” he finished, aiming his sight towards an Asian man carrying his somewhat heavy helmet under one arm, and a second Russian woman, whose hair was a lighter shade than the first’s.
There wasn’t much to discuss on the flight from the German border – the situation when they landed might be completely different from their briefing, and the briefing had covered most everything else. Mostly.
“So, what does everyone think this new alien will look like?” Captain William Walker, the first of the Walker brothers, asked the squad.
“It’s on its own, so it’s going to be pretty big, I think,” Captain Pimenova replied. Her English was fluent and unbroken, but still had a distinct accent to it. “Nothing we’ve seen so far is deployed on its own.”
“Not even Sectopods. Christ, this thing is going to be a damned tank or something, isn’t it?” William, or ‘Viking’ as he was sometimes called, replied.
“Lord’s name in vain,” His brother chimed in.
“Shut up, Ben.” William replied.
“What do you think it will look like, Bishop?” Major Li asked the second Captain Walker.
Ben Walker mused on that for a few seconds. “A one-alien army? Pitch-black skin or armour, sixteen, maybe twenty feet tall. Lots of firepower, but built for sustaining damage. Stable footing, four or more legs. Unlikely to fly. Not sure about whether it’d be a machine or a biological. How about you, Crash?”
Dong Li grinned. “Bigger than that, perhaps fifty feet. More guns than you can imagine. Lightly armoured, but fast like a hare. Much different than just a bigger Sectopod.”
“You both are behaving like children,” Captain Elena Guseva spoke up, “we won’t know what it is until we see it, so no point talking about it.”
“Well, what do you think it’ll be?” Viking asked, smirking with his helmet sat on his lap.
“No idea. Maybe giant, scary lobster person that eat faces.” ‘Werewolf’ Guseva replied. She might not have had her grammar perfected, but her sarcasm was unmistakable.
“Hey, no need to go ruining the fun,” Li retorted. He turned to Colonel Henderson. “What about you, Deadeye?”
Henderson had been silent for the whole flight. While everyone else who bothered with a helmet had removed theirs for comfort, his remained on, its single crimson slit-like visor staring directly ahead. He didn’t turn to address his squad when he answered.
“Biological. One head. Dies when you shoot it in it.” He turned the skull decal on the front of his mask to face Li, “Otherwise I’m going to have to get creative.”
“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Bishop replied, “remember, capture first, lethal force only when necessary.”
“I’m giving the orders, Bishop,” Deadeye replied coldly, before addressing the rest of the squad with a simple “what Bishop said. You all ought to know what you’re doing by now, so I shouldn’t have to start giving commands unless we walk into a crisis out there.”
The crew lapsed into silence for a moment, Deadeye having ended the conversation on a decidedly down note to put them all back in a serious state of mind. It was a few minute before someone spoke again.
“Pimenova, you alright?” Bishop asked, noticing the Russian's odd behaviour.
Pimenova was fidgeting, as if plagued by an itch someone on her back, beneath her armour. Except her right eye was twitching a little, too, and she was using one hand to support her head. “I’m fine,” she replied, “but something just feels… off. Like the back of my head’s aching, but there’s nothing wrong with it.”
“Is this psychic thing?” Guseva asked, “It is psychic thing, isn’t it?”
“What’s it about?” Bishop asked.
Pimenova looked him straight in the eyes. “I have no idea,” she replied.
“This is Big Sky, LZ is in sight and we are preparing to land,” the Skyranger’s pilot radioed in.
“Copy, Big Sky,” Officer Bradford came in as the squad began to get their helmets back on and readied their weapons. “Strike One, you are cleared for engagement. Be aware, there is a civilian on the ground, so watch your fire.”
“A civilian?” Viking noted, sounding annoyed, “What’s a civilian doing down there?”
“This is the Middle of Nowhere, Canada,” Big Sky replied, “We needed him to stay put near the thing to signal us in. Otherwise we could spend weeks looking for this thing and still not find it.”
“I hate rescue missions,” Viking noted, “this guy better be able to take care of himself.”
“Viking, are you taking point by the door or am I alone here?” Major Li asked, holding onto one of the rear ramp’s hydraulics with one hand and carrying his heavy support weapon with the other. The rest of the squad had formed up, ready to deploy as soon as the ramp went down.


***


“And then this thing just went an’ exploded into existence next to me,” the hunter, a grizzled man named Jan Peters, concluded his story, “I called the services on the phone, and they put me through to you fellers.”
Bishop nodded, “But you didn’t think to retreat to a safer distance, in case it woke up?” He was still in full combat gear, so Mr. Peters was basically talking to a gold-tinted mirror.
“Shit, son, that thing hasn’t moved since it got here,” Jan replied, nodding towards the purple creature that he had been moved several metres away from. “Even if it did, doesn’t look too dangerous.”
Bishop nodded again; there was little chance that this man could know about psionics, so that was an understandable assumption on his part. It didn’t make it any less dangerous, though. “I think, sir, in future you ought to take more cautious measures when dealing with unknown life forms.”
“Speaking of ‘unknown life forms’, you’re in the military, right? How’s that alien war going?”
“Sir, I’m not”-
“It’s done.” Crash interrupted.
Jan blinked, surprised; “Done? You mean, we won? It’s not even been a year, yet!”
“It isn’t ‘done’ sir,” Bishop resumed, casting a short glare at Major Li through his helmet, “there’s still an alien threat at large. However, we do have them on the retreat, and are mostly dealing with the aftermath of the threat they posed at this point.”
Mr. Peters blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”
“We killed their leader, but there are still a lot of soldiers running about. We’re cleaning all that up now,” Crash explained.
“So it’s safe to go back to the towns and cities?” Jan asked.
“Yes sir.” Crash affirmed.
“Major, would you kindly stop disclosing classified information to civilians?” Bishop asked, turning to face Crash more fully.
“He could hear this on any news network across the world, it is hardly confidential,” Crash responded.
“What military are you guys working for, anyway?” Jan replied, “I’ve never seen that kind of equipment anywhere, and you sound kinda Japanese or something.”
Major Li looked at Mr. Peters, back to his lower-ranked colleague, and then back to the hunter. “That is definitely classified information.” He paused for a second. “And I am Chinese.”
“You’re a loudmouth,” Bishop muttered, moving his left hand to the visor on his helmet.


***


“Hardly intimidating, is it?” Viking asked, casually studying the creature while cradling his Alloy Cannon in his hands.
“What is meaning of that?” Guseva asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Well, look at it,” he explained, glancing at her before back to the extra-terrestrial, “It’s a small purple lumpy thing with no fangs, not claws, not pincers or guns. Just four legs, two wings and a head.”
“Mmm,” Guseva hummed her agreement, before looking around, “but Doc has not got to thirty metres of it, and looks like she is sick.”
Viking looked in the same direction as his squad mate. Sure enough, Captain Pimenova was sat a decent distance away, on a tree stump, with both hands cradling the sides of her head, staring at the ground. The two assaults shared a look, before heading over to the psion.
“Doc, you okay?” Viking asked.
Pimenova shook her head, a very slight but very quick movement. Her face was set into an unhealthy grimace, and she was rocking back and forth slightly.
“What’s wrong?” Viking asked, as if he couldn’t guess.
“I-it’s some k-kind of shield,” Pimenova stammered, “L-loose energy, like it-it’s just…” her voice trailed off. She ceased rocking back and forth, and started shuddering instead.
The two assault’s blood ran cold. “Is it too… strong for you?” Guseva asked, hesitantly.
Pimenova shook her head, “N-not sure, this is l-lessening up all the t-time. My head d-doesn’t hurt n-near as m-much as when we g-got here.” Her shuddering died down, and she sat still, though her gaze was still firmly fixed on the ground. “I th-think it’s starting to r-run out of steam.”
Viking nodded. “That’s good, but don’t stress yourself. If we can’t get close enough to it, you’re the only one who can take it down.”


***


Deadeye silently scoped over the scene before him. What were Viking and Werewolf thinking, abandoning their watch over the hostile? That was a rookie mistake. Rookie mistakes tended to be the deadliest ones.
Bishop and Crash seemed to have the civilian under control, though. Thankfully he hadn’t taken to the squad with hostility. That only made sense, since he’d called them there, but it had been possible that he’d been mind-controlled by a hostile faking unconsciousness. He was possibly a bigger threat to the mission than the X-ray was, and needed removing before they proceeded.
Deadeye radioed in. “Bishop, what’s happening with the civilian?”
There was a second of radio silence, and Bishop came back; “We’re debriefing him now, sir. I don’t think he’s of high enough quality for use by the organisation.”
Deadeye nodded. “Understood. Send him on his way, then load up that X-ray. And call Guseva about what’s wrong with Pimenova, she looks like she’s been poisoned. We might have more than just the target on our hands.”
“Affirmative, sir,” the call came back, “we’ll keep our eyes open in case of hostiles, if you think there’s something else out here.”
Deadeye left it at that, opting to scan his perimeter again. No use him having overwatch to assist his squad if he himself could be compromised at any moment. Unfortunately, his self-surveillance meant that he wasn’t looking at the X-ray.
That was a rookie mistake.


***


She hurt. Every part of her just hurt. She would whimper or moan if her throat didn’t feel so sore, or roll into a more comfortable position if all of her joints didn’t ache.
The worst part, though, was her head. Her whole mind felt painful, like someone had delivered a haymaker directly to her intellect.
Slowly, though, it eased up. Coherence became easier, and she began to notice things again. For a start, she was lying on something very hard. That would have to change once her muscles stopped throbbing. Secondly, there was a fair amount of noise. She didn’t know what it was. Some kind of animal, maybe? It was a kind of mish-mash of cooing and grunting, with a smattering of some low, squeak-like noises thrown in. And it wouldn’t stop. It didn’t sound like it was going to, either. That was okay, though, she’d just make it quiet again.
Okay, this was a problem; her magic hurt. Was that even possible? There was something certainly very off about it, it just didn’t feel right. She needed to think about it.
Oh, but thinking hurt too! Okay, small things first. Her name. Okay, how hard could that be?
Twaddle.
No, Twiddle.
Twille?
Twileye.
Twilight!
Twilight Something.
Twilight Sp-something.
Spud.
Spare?
Spar.
Spark.
Sparkle!
Twilight Sparkle!
She afforded herself a mental smile for that. She was Twilight Sparkle, Bearer of the Element of Magic, Personal Student of Princess Celestia, a newly-crowned princess herself, among the most powerful unicorns to ever live, and thinking about all of this was like poking an angry bruise somewhere in her cortex.
That could wait until later, what was wrong with her magic? It felt like it was… leaking? She was definitely casting something, but there was no form or function to the spell. It was just stray magical energy. Well, that could be fixed easily.
Twilight lowered the amount of magic she was chanelling, before shutting it off altogether.


***


“H-hey! It’s gone!” Pimenova said, looking up and around. Viking turned from where he was talking to Bishop to look back at her. “I think it gave up!”
“Great! Can you get control over it?” Bishop asked.
Pimenova bit her lower lip, “I’m not sure, I can try…”


***


Suddenly, a sharp pain drove itself into Twilight’s mind. She panicked, mentally stung by the red-hot probe in her still-fuzzy consciousness. She swatted at it, ineffectively trying to oust it with what magic she could muster. The blade in her mind reacted like it had been slapped, hard, backing off for a moment, before thrusting even deeper.
Twilight lost herself to her panic. She needed it out. Out, right NOW!


***


“Argh!” Pimenova yelled, dropping to her knees, clutching both hands to her head with a audible slap.
“Doc! What happened!?” Viking shouted, running over to her. Everyone present focused on her, concern rising, weapons being readied.
“Out! Get out!” the psion said, her voice cracking, her throat hoarse.
Viking grabbed her by one arm and tried to pull her up. “Doc, you gotta-”
“GET OUT!” The psion screamed, every muscle in her body clenching, curling her over into a ball.
“Snap out of it!” William Walker shouted back, trying to pull her up again. Crash had his gun trained on her, as did Guseva. Bishop was urging the hunter to leave. Jan was being difficult about it, demanding to know what was going on.
“OUT!” The medic shouted one last time, before an invisible wall of force hit her, knocking her upwards and backwards, clean out of Viking’s grip. She flew twenty feet into the nearest tree, and was knocked out cold.
“Ben, get over here!” Viking yelled, “We’ve got a man down!”
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the worst order to be shouted during the mission.
“X-ray is awake!” Deadeye shouted from overwatch, “X-ray is moving! Turn your asses around!”
Bishop, Viking, Crash and Werewolf wheeled around, to see a trembling Twilight Sparkle rising to her hooves, her wings spread wide and her horn burning fierce and bright with magic.
> Operation: Rising Star, Part Two
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Twilight stumbled as she stood up, trying to balance with her wings, her body still stiff and tired. She couldn’t afford to let that stop her, though. The short, sudden battle within her own skull had cleared her thoughts, at least. Enough to realise something fairly daunting:
She was outnumbered.
There were some… creatures in front of her. Most of them were red, and looked exoskeletal. There was another, a different colour and much softer looking. If it came to it, that one would be the easiest target.
That said, it was also the only one who wasn’t pointing a bright green glowing thing at her, and was, in fact, carefully stepping backwards and away from her.
It still wasn’t easy to think straight, especially when the creatures were being extremely loud, and she was still having difficulty staying on her hooves. This was bad. This was very, very bad.
There were four, no, three of them. Three, and the one she’d knocked to the ground earlier. And the discoloured one. She couldn’t let this turn into a fight – she didn’t think she could win if it did.
“Whatever you are,” Twilight spoke, her voice hoarse from her sore throat, but backed with determination, “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”


***


“Going silent,” Viking whispered over comms, activating his stealth suit’s active camouflage at the first chance he got, making him nigh invisible.
“Sir, get out of here! Go!” Bishop shouted at Jan, while keeping between the woodsman and the newly-awakened xeno, bringing his rifle to bear on it. Guseva and Crash quickly followed suit, aiming their weapons against the hostile before it could do the same back.
“Everyone, hold your fire!” Deadeye barked, “Viking, get close enough to use that Arc Thrower!”
At that moment, its mouth opened. The creature let out a series of short, sharp growls, its voice coarse and angry, to match its furrowed eyes and narrowed pupils. The glow surrounding its horn intensified as it did so, becoming almost blindingly bright.
“This thing isn’t playing around anymore!” Crash shouted over the radio.
“Crash, keep your head on! Viking, you’d better be moving in!” Deadeye shouted again, as the beast glanced between the troops before it, fixing each of them with a glare.
Guseva tried to swallow her fright, but her mouth was dry. Her gun was held with a white-knuckle grip, and her finger curled around the trigger.
And then it turned its glare on her.
She pulled the trigger, in three quick shots, two aimed for the chest, one for the head. Three searing bolts of plasma burned the air around them as they shot towards their target with blinding speed.
The beast didn’t so much as blink as one after another, the plasma shots closed to less than a foot’s distance of it, before turning ninety degrees in the air and slamming into the ground by its feet, scorching the forest floor.
“Sh-shot wide!” Guseva stammered, panic gripping her further. She wanted to run, wanted to hide. This wasn’t a fight she could win! That thing was dangerous! “That isn’t meant to happen!” she shrieked, before turning to run.
“Guseva, hold steady! Don’t-!” Deadeye began, before a streak of dark purple light shot forward from the creature’s glowing horn, striking the Russian in the back, knocking her over forwards to the ground. The woodsman took this opportunity to run himself, bolting into the woods at a breakneck pace.
“Covering fire!” Crash shouted, liberally spraying plasma fire at the hostile before him. Most sailed past it. Those aimed to hit deflected like light off of a mirror, slamming into trees and causing Bishop and Viking to duck into cover. The X-ray wasn’t even facing him, instead frowning at Guseva’s downed form, its mouth slightly agape.
Guseva tried to pick herself up again, flailing her arms in the hope of finding something to garb on to to expediate her escape. The xeno took this as its cue to turn on Crash, aiming a second bolt at his chest. He neatly sidestepped the blow, and opened fire with his heavy weapon again, sending more plasma fire scattering away from the target’s invisible shield.
“Crash, cease fire!” Deadeye ordered, “You’re only drawing attention to yourself!”
“Then what do we do?” Bishop shouted, peeping out from behind a sturdy fir to keep and eye on the hostile.
Deadeye thought for a moment. “Flypaper.”
“Flypaper!?” Bishop asked, astounded, “What the hell does that mean?”
“Tell you later. Viking, get ready to move in,” Deadeye replied, zeroing in his next shot at the blinding light atop his target’s head.
He readjusted himself, bracing his rifle over his left elbow.
He took up the trigger’s slack.
He drew one last breath.
He fired.


***


Pain lanced across Twilight’s scalp, a searing, burning pain. She dropped with surprise, instinctively throwing a hoof over her head to cover herself. Where had that come from?
Ignoring the stench of burnt mane, Twilight anxiously checked her horn. It hadn’t been hit. The blast had gone wide. She could keep deflecting them!
…If she could spot them coming, at least.
Twilight turned and glanced around, spotting first the fresh plasma scoring on a nearby tree, then in the opposite direction. Sure enough, there was another creature over there, this one black, with a white face. It was a long way away, but if she didn’t stop it, she didn’t stand a chance against the rest of them. She started charging up another spell, this one to knock the weapon out of the creature’s claws. She couldn’t do a lot more than that and guarantee a hit in the time she had.
Over the nearby creatures’ shouting and the continuous chiming created by her own magic, Twilight didn’t hear the faint crackle of one other, invisible creature de-cloaking behind her. Pain lanced across her back and down her legs. Everything became painfully loud, threatening to shatter her eardrums, then suddenly distorted and quiet. Harsh colours in chaotic patterns flashed over her vision at an insane rate, and her head was struck with a numbing pain so terrible she thought it might burst, as one point two one gigawatts of nerve-wrecking electricity coursed through her body.
And all of the magic she’d been charging and holding exploded outwards.

***

A circular sheet of lilac light shot outwards at an alarming rate, expanding from the point of the hostile’s horn, knocking three veteran X-COM soldiers into the air and onto the ground before they could react, splintering the bark and flesh of the nearby trees it struck.
Viking scrabbled to get up, sitting upright as he searched for his dropped Arc Thrower. It was only a few feet away, and looked to be still intact. Then he glanced down himself, towards the shocked hostile.
It was limp, lying on the ground again. Bishop was already moving in, still on his feet thanks to the cover his tree had provided him. Crash was sat on his backside like Viking, and Guseva had been sprawled out on her front again.
Bishop kept his rifle trained on the target as he approached. It didn’t move. He took his left hand off of his weapon and snapped his fingers twice in front of the creature’s open eyes. No response. “Hostile successfully pacified,” he reported, to be met with sighs of relief from the rest of his squad.
“Good, now go check on Pimenova, see if she’s hurt,” Deadeye ordered, still keeping his rifle trained on the alien’s downed form. He’d been well away from the shockwave. “Crash, Viking, you two get that thing subjugated and into the Skyranger’s hold. Guseva, you still with us?”
“Y-yes,” Guseva responded nervously, “sorry for”-
“Don’t sweat it,” Deadeye interrupted, “that was going to happen anyway. We weren’t going to get a chance to talk this thing down.” He paused for a moment, before changing his addressee, “Big Sky, this is Strike One. Payload is secure, we’re beginning to load it now.”
The squad continued their work with little more said between them.


***


Twilight wanted to panic. She wanted to scream, wanted to run. She wanted to get out of here and just go home. But she couldn’t. The alicorn wasn’t exactly sure what they’d done to her, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t talk, she couldn’t use magic. She could barely even breathe, except for the shallow breaths that were barely enough to keep her conscious.
Everything sounded muted and blurry, as if she were fifteen feet underwater. She could still see perfectly fine, but she wished that she couldn’t, that she could close her paralysed eyelids and just shut out the world. No such luck. She was forced to watch every second, as she was grabbed by her legs and hauled over one of the exoskeletal creatures’ shoulders. She was forced to watch the ground swaying below her, as it marched away from where she had woken up. She couldn’t help but stare downwards as fallen needles and twigs gave way to dull grass, as her captor walked into an open meadow, a dull, low roaring noise seeping into her ears. Her eyes began to sting with dryness as first the creature’s footsteps changed from a gentle thud to a metallic clunk, and a slanted metal floor slid into view beneath her.
Twilight’s panic hit new heights – what was this metal monstrosity? Why was it roaring? Where were these creatures taking her? What – Twilight would’ve gulped with dread had she been able – what were they going to do to her?
The creature carrying her grunted as it hefted her body off of its shoulder, dumping her limp form onto a flat, metal surface. A few straps were buckled together over her, tying her down like a crate on a ship, their edges biting into her skin beneath her coat. She was still staring backwards, unblinkingly looking at the open door through which she’d been transported, her eyes burning with dehydration. She wished she was back out there. She wished she hadn’t been immobilised. She wished she was back in Equestria, lying in her own bed or talking to her friends. She wished, hoped, and mentally pleaded with anything that could hear, for this to please be all just a horrifying dream.
The creature squatted down in front of her, staring her eye to reflective lense. Its head tilted sideways, and it moved one of its claws to her face, directly towards her violet irises. Its talons were drawn across her eyes, and the world went dark. Alone in her own mind, Twilight screamed in terror, such that no voice could ever match.
> 18:48, 18th Febuary, 2016
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Deep below the ground, many pairs of eyes watched the screens before them. Many voices spread rumours in low murmurs. Most sounded concerned, a few mildly frightened. All were awaiting some instruction from the three individuals who were front and centre in the room.
One had his arms crossed over his chest, the backs of his hands wrinkling with the onset of age. He surveyed the scene before him from beneath his white eyebrows, both set into a troubled frown.
Another had her arms separate, one hand holding a data slate to her side, the other held upwards in front of the green collar of her otherwise white coat, absently twirling a pen between her slender fingers as she pondered.
The last had his hands clasped behind his back, level with his hips but not resting upon them. His feet were shoulder-width apart, and the shoes adorning them carried a military shine. He studied the situation presented with a stern face, which betrayed no signs of what he was feeling.
The screen before them was one of the few within the room to not be holographic. A single, one-hundred-and-twenty-inch monitor built into the wall served as their information readout. Smaller displays were available to the other men and women working in Mission Control, beneath the large, projected globe floating in the air above them. A small green shape, that of Skyranger-1, had just begun moving across the spectral atlas’s surface, tracking the progress of the aircraft it represented.
“So,” the man in the green jumper eventually spoke, turning to face the other two, both stood to his right, “can we contain it?”
The woman in the middle showed no reaction for a moment, before also turning to her right. “Dr Shen?” she offered.
The aged man gave the other two a hapless look. “I doubt it,” he spoke, a hint of worry in his otherwise wizened voice, “Our current containment chambers suffer periodic damage under the stress of any housed psychic alien. An Ethereal, if left to its own devices for a few days, could break out. It’s only dues to rotating them between cells and maintaining the ones left unoccupied that we’re able to prevent them escaping.” He pointed back to the screen as its video looped, showing scenes of the battle from both a soldier’s-eye-view and from satellite cameras. As he gestured, it demonstrated a shot of the new contact easily deflecting a barrage of plasma fire away from itself, selectively repelling only the shots that would have landed a hit. “Any creature with the power and focus to pull a feat like that could escape from containment within hours, if not less.”
The officer sighed, “So the only way to be safe is to execute it on arrival.”
“Not necessarily,” The woman between the two men offered, beginning to tap around on the touchscreen of her PDA with her pen, “recently my team have been working on a device which would inhibit the capabilities of any psionic creatures it was correctly attached to, a ‘psionic dampener’, if you will.” A schematic for the device appeared on the screen in front of them, growing into view over the footage of the engagement. The main component of it appeared to be an abstract assembly of various components, most identifiable as the neural implants possessed by Ethereals. “We’ve developed a prototype which would effectively nullify all the abilities of a Sectoid Commander, allowing them to be safely contained. Similar designs for Ethereals are under testing, but so far can merely impede their powers, not seal them off completely.”
“I don’t see how that helps us, Doctor,” the officer spoke again, “that thing is far more powerful than”-
“But,” the scientist continued, “The main constraint on our current designs is portability – both prototypes are designed to be worn by the creatures they affect while being physically tamper-proof. A larger, immobile design could easily be created, scaled to block any attempt at psionics made by our new capture. We won’t be able to move or experiment with it for a while, until we create a better containment strategy, but we can keep it safely contained until such things are invented.”
“The scaling should be fairly linear,” the engineer said, now leaning forwards to analyse the blueprint, “It’ll take a little time, but we ought to be able to produce a sufficiently large device within the next twenty-four hours. It’ll need to be inside the chamber with the alien, but sturdy enough plating on it’s casing should prevent the alien from damaging it.”
“We can keep the subject safely sedated until the device is complete,” the researcher noted.
The officer frowned at the screen for a moment, before looking back to the woman before him. “Dr Vahlen, do you really think it’s worth creating a whole new containment strategy for a single alien, when we’re cleaning up remnants after their invasion failed? Can we justify the cost of that?”
Dr Vahlen looked almost insulted. “Officer Bradford, this alien represents a peak in power and manipulation of psionic energy, the likes of which have not previously been observed. The potential to be gained for harnessing this power, the benefits it would grant us… they’re unimaginable!”
Bradford shrugged, “If you say so. Begin fabrication of the device, then, and keep the alien unconscious until it’s safely secured. Dr Vahlen, Dr Shen, you are both dismissed.” He turned and left the room, walking casually as opposed to the military march one might have expected from him.
“I hope you have some ideas on how to build a more permanent solution,” Dr Shen noted aloud.
“It’s the logical next step.” Dr Vahlen pointed out in response.


***


The squad compartment of Skyranger-1 was nearly silent, save for the low rumble of the engines outside and the frantic, panicked muttering of its resident psion.
Pimenova had taken quite some time to regain conciousness, but hadn’t shown major injury from being thrown. She’d been strapped onto a stretcher for take-off. Bruising along her back was to be expected, but no broken bones or internal damage, from what Bishop could see. Scratch damage, in effect. 
That wasn’t where she’d been attacked, though – mentally she was a semi-intact mess, if the snatches of English among her otherwise entirely Russian muttering where any indication. Mentions of “Waking Nightmares”, “Demons” and “Not like us” were common. From what Guseva had said, though, she was still sort-of there – the Russian parts of her babble involved her trying to remind herself what was real, and what wasn’t – separating the psionic trauma within her mind from the physical world around her. Based on that, she would come out alright, the squad reasoned. At least, once she uncurled herself from the foetal position and stopped shaking quite so much.
They didn’t blame her for staying as far away from the alien as possible, though. No-one in the jet wanted to be near it. Even paralyzed, incapacitated, it unnerved them. To all five of them, it was a blessing that the surprise attack had worked on the damned thing. Otherwise, the alien had demonstrated one thing; it was untouchable. The one thing that X-COM had always had, whether it was Chrysallids, Cyberdiscs, or Mutons, was the guarantee that they could, and usually would, hit and kill their enemy.
And now here they had one that they couldn’t.
God forbid more of them show up.
> 01:16, 19th February, 2016
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“That,” began the first member of Strike 1 to speak since returning to base, “was appalling.”
The four other soldiers in the armoury glanced towards him, each in various states of undress. “Sorry, what?” William Walker replied, already stripped of his stealth suit down to the waist, leaving him in little more than a white undershirt that prevented chaffing.
“Especially you,” the instigator pointed at Viking, “and you,” he pointed at Guseva. “You both left a potentially dangerous and unknown hostile without guard while you went to have some mother’s meeting with your psion.”
A noticeable tension overcame Viking, his fists clenching. He remained silent, however, letting someone else speak – reason wasn’t his forte. “Deadeye, she was in distress,” Crash spoke up as he pulled a regular military jacket onto his broad shoulders, the X-COM logo emblazoned on the left pocket, “Viking and Werewolf were making sure she was still operational.”
“That isn’t the problem. The problem is that they left that thing unguarded,” Deadeye countered, still fully suited up in his black Archangel armour, complete with skull mask. “And as it so happens, we’re lucky that one of us isn’t dead because of it.”
“Not just luck,” Bishop countered, “Viking’s quick thinking is ultimately what brought us through the mission alive.” The medic’s words caused his brother’s clenched hands to loosen slightly. “And besides, I believe concern for one’s squad to be paramount to a successful operation, Colonel.”
“Well, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, Captain,” Deadeye retorted, “but in this case it jeopardised the whole mission. There is no reason for any soldier to leave any enemy that hasn’t been confirmed inactive by our own weapons unobserved, even if the squad’s psion is having a headache because she’s too frail to walk up to an unconscious horse without her allergies playing up.”
Viking’s teeth gritted, hard. His fists clenched until his short nails dug into his palms. He brought his right fist back, and stepped forward with his left foot, as much as ramming his heel into the ground with anger. It didn’t matter that he was two ranks below Deadeye. It didn’t matter that he was taking his bare fist to a man in power armour. It didn’t matter that he would be disciplined, harshly. Right now this was about him, his squad, and Deadeye, and no force on earth was going to stop him teaching this arrogant, cocky prick a lesson.
“Colonel Henderson.” A woman’s voice, strict and unfeeling, stopped Viking mid-punch. He swiftly lowered his fist to his side and looked around, backing away from the sniper who had been spoken to.
The sniper himself looked around. His red visor remained impassive, but his shoulders drew up a little, tensing. “Colonel Lazarro,” he replied plainly.
A woman was stood in the doorway, short, with a Mediterranean tone to her skin. Her arms were crossed over a white tank top, decorated only with the usual X-COM logo on the left breast. A pair of khaki trousers hung from her slim waist down to the military-grade boots on her feet, and a red beret, also with an X-COM badge, sat on her head. “I would appreciate it, Colonel,” she continued, speaking to the neutral mask, “If you didn’t belittle my squad behind my back. We’ve talked about this; if you have an issue with them, you take it up with me.”
“Of course,” Deadeye agreed, “I merely felt that, since I’m acting as their commanding officer”-
“I especially don’t want to hear that you’ve been openly mocking one of my soldiers to her comrades,” Colonel Lazarro continued, fixing Deadeye with a cold glare of her piercing blue eyes. “And I especially don’t want to find you berating them for negligence when you yourself took the opportunity to perform a perimeter check when satellite coverage showed nothing for miles.” Her voice didn’t rise in volume, only in its force. It was a voice powerful enough for the five-and-a-half-foot tall woman to make even the tall, muscular Heavy of her own squad feel small.
“I”- Deadeye tried to get a word in.
“You’re dismissed,” his opposing number said in an appropriately dismissing tone. It didn’t matter that he was of equal rank to her – Deadeye left the room, though his purposeful gait reminded the remaining soldiers that he wasn’t done with this just yet.
“Captain Walker,” Lazarro began anew, looking at Viking, “I really don’t want to find you blunting your own limbs against another man’s head, no matter how much he deserves it. You should know better.” Her tone was, perhaps surprisingly, less malicious than it had been when addressing Deadeye – indeed, it took on more the edge of a scolding mother than an ice queen. “And Captain Walker the Second? I don’t want to hear that you’ve been letting someone else take command of the squad just because they’re a higher rank than you. There’s a good reason I let you handle all of the squad’s movements. When we’re in the field, you’re our commanding officer, remember, no matter what the paperwork says.”
Viking fidgeted uncomfortably while Bishop nodded his head in agreement. The latter didn’t whole-heartedly agree with his superior – she was certainly the commander of the team. He, however, was the moral support of the squad – he knew each of his teammates through and through, and how each of them preferred to operate, which was why the colonel left the tactics to him – he knew what made everyone tick, and could arrange them to play off of each other’s strengths based on that.
“With all due respect, Ma’am,” he hesitantly replied, “I don’t think Deadeye is the sort of man who appreciates the way our squad works.”
“Indeed not,” the colonel agreed, musing, “I’d best not spend much more time on medical leave. Hell, you’re down to four of six now, and that doesn’t bode well for anyone, especially since no other psion could work as well with the squad as Pimenova can. Considering that she’s been hospitalised for an undisclosed amount of time, and couple that with a loose cannon sniper like Henderson…” She thought for a few moments. “Screw it. I can walk. I’ll file for early return to active duty and use today as evidence of fault in Henderson’s handling of the squad. That ought to satisfy the brass.”
Crash smiled. “It’s good to have you back, Ma’am.”


***


Research Project: Subject X-014 “Sparkle.”
Date: 18th February 2016

Initial Assessment
This alien appears unlike any other previously encountered. It is mammalian, quadrupedal, and roughly equine in form, as opposed to the bipedal, roughly primate beings that we have previously encountered. Despite being a quadruped and being of a similar colouration, subject was also speculated to be unrelated to the slightly more similar X-004, “Chrysallid”, given the lack of a hard exoskeleton. Gene mapping confirms this – the specimen is far removed from any genome previously encountered.
Subject has displayed unrivalled psionic power in engagement with X-COM forces, possibly matching the level of an X-010, “Ethereal”, but used in a somewhat different manner. Specimen displayed the ability to redirect plasma fire, project its psionic energy as a physical force, and is speculated to have engaged in mental combat with the attending psion, all abilities shared with any given Ethereal. However, the reflected fire was dispersed harmlessly, and projected force was non-lethal in nature, wheras an Ethereal would aim to lethally eliminate human targets. It is speculated that this subject’s species may be pacifist engineers, designed to operate the larger ships in the alien fleet. Psionic communication would allow for quick relaying of movement orders, and would provide a measure of self-defense, enough to stall assailants until military forces could arrive to assist. Subject also possesses a pair of wings, which are mechanically incapable of supporting it, but which may be usable in other ways - Ethereals have been observed to use their psionic power to levitate and manoeuver themselves, and it has been suggested that this specimen utilises its wings to assist in similar applications - either to improve its speed or maneuverability, or to allow it to use more of its psionic power for other tasks.
The pacifism theory is supported by the subject’s physical structure – it seems ill suited to combat, being built skeletally sturdy yet agile, but lacking defining musculature or limbs with which to manipulate the aliens’ weapons. Subject is also decorated with lengthy hair around the head and hindquarters, which would be impractical to have trailing in a combat situation.
The specimen is roughly 3’10” tall at the head, and 2’6” tall at the shoulder. Head appears disproportionately large when compared to its body, contributing to nearly a quarter of the subject’s height and being at least twice the size of a human’s. Eyes are large, with purple irises. Teeth are entirely incisors and molars, suggesting a herbivorous diet. Brow bears a conical horn, which has a shallow, spiralling groove running up its length. Legs appear not to end in any sort of foot, though the joints and a firmness of the flesh around the leg’s end suggest an internal hoof-like structure, covered by a thin layer of skin. Body hair is mostly a shade of lilac, with its mane and tail being darker shades of violet and streaked with two dark purple and pink stripes, lengthwise. The subject possesses a wingspan of 5'8", and its wings are covered in lengthy feathers that match its body hair in colour. Otherwise of note is a pair of markings upon the sides of the specimen’s rump, portraying a small collection of white six-point stars overlaid with a larger, pink star. The image is mirrored on either side, as if to have a forward face in the direction of the subject’s body, and is theorised to serve as a visual identifier. It was this feature that earned X-014 a variety of shorthand name, such as “Sparkle,” “Stars” and “Tinker-Butt.” The former of these has been adopted as the species’ intelligence handle, for use in combat broadcasts. The specimen has not been identified as having a gender at this time.

Further Research
Apart from its unique biology, the psionic abilities of the subject demand further examination – it is capable of several of the powers available to the Ethereals, but not to our own troops. Having access to a potentially pacifist alien would allow us to train soldiers to achieve the same effects, namely a more direct attack, and more precise shielding against enemy fire, would be useful. To this end, the subject must be held in custody and studied regularly, monitoring psionic strength and physical health in order to determine any factor that may affect its abilities.


***


Twilight Sparkle slowly came around. Very, very slowly. Her limbs felt tired and sore, and her back was stiff. Again. What was it with her and waking up recently? She never used to-
Twilight’s eyes snapped open as she remembered what had happened last time she had woken up. It came back to her in a rush, the intrusion into her head, the brief battle against the armoured… things, being carried into their cart-chariot thing, and being jabbed with a needle immediately upon its door opening again.
And then, here. Given that she was still alive, the librarian guessed that the syringe had contained a sedative, nothing harmful. That was good, she hoped. Though her body was raw, her head was a lot clearer this time around, and she didn’t feel anything abnormal about her magic. Actually… she didn’t feel very much of her magic at all. It was there, a tiny, muted presence at the back of her mind, if she concentrated on it hard enough, but not enough to cast any spells with. That was… unnerving, to say the least. Not having magic was, for her, like waking up and finding out one was missing their wings, or their back legs, or the like. Maybe this had something to do with the injection, a toxin to cut her off from her magic?
She tried to move, and gradually, her aching, stiff limbs slowly complied. One hoof moved to be flush against the cold floor. Another, and then the last two. She uneasily and slowly raised herself, inch by painful inch, to full height. She took a deep breath in, through the mouth. She gradually released it, out through the nose. Calm. Relaxed. Totally not freaking out because she was in a metal box and was being held captive by bright red arachnids that threw green fire everywhere when angry.
A small part of Twilight Sparkle’s mind berated her: this wasn’t a box, boxes were square. Or, technically, cuboid prisms. At any rate, this wasn’t one: this was a cylinder in shape, and thus would be better fit by a different word… a tank, maybe? The walls were an odd shape and design, one side of the room was a smooth, curved panel, and the other side was a pair of smooth, curved panels that met halfway up the wall at a long fissure. The two halves of the room were separated by a slanting divide, where the single smooth wall merely stopped and the room grew wider by a few inches. The smooth wall also had a door set into it, and a pair of large circular window shutters directly opposite one another.
Twilight trotted over to the smooth wall and placed a hoof on it. Metal. Not iron, by its shine, and not copper or brass, by its colour. Neither gold, silver, bronze… Twilight supposed that it could be mithral, but mithral was rare and highly valued for its strength – why make an entire wall out of it? She ran her hoof along the wall. It was eerily smooth. Twilight doubted that even Rarity could buff a silver tea tray to this level of-
Twilight’s stomach dropped. Rarity. Rainbow Dash. Applejack, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy. Spike. Her friends. Her brother. Her mother and father. Everypony she had ever known. Did they know what had happened to her? Had any of them been captured too?
Suddenly, Twilight Sparkle felt very small, and very, very alone.

> Test I: Psionic Strength
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	There was a long, low groaning sound. Twilight’s ears picked up, and she glanced around herself. Was something moving the cell? Was it falling apart? What was that noise, and why wouldn’t it stop?
Yellow light began to filter into the room from behind her, providing stark contrast against the cold blue glow that most of the ceiling emitted. She span around, to see the two halves of the separated wall splitting apart. A gap! She could escape! She began to run towards the opening, before she stopped, her hooves sliding across the smooth steel floor as she fought for some grip. What if this wouldn’t let her out? What if it let something else… in?
The gap drew wider as the two massive shutters were drawn away, and the intensity of the yellow light lowered. She could now easily make out that there was a thick sheet of glass filling the hole, which she had somehow missed before. She could also make out that, beyond her tiny cell, there was a walkway made of similar metal. A few of the exoskeletal monsters lurked around, near more circular doors, but they showed little interest in her. The large number of brown, tan and peach-coloured creatures immediately behind the expansive window, however, showed a lot of interest. And with dread, Twilight realised that she recognised the style of their long, white coats – they mimicked the ones worn by researchers at Canterlot University when things were about to get messy.
Her cell wasn’t square because it wasn’t a cell.
It was a tube.
A testing tube.
Twilight Sparkle silently swallowed, quivering with fear.

---

“Observation shutters withdrawn,” the systems operator said carefully. From what he knew of Dr. Vahlen’s little ‘experiments,’ she didn’t like anything to go wrong, and saying the wrong thing had happened was a good way to make it go wrong.
“Affirmative,” another operator a few consoles across replied, “what’s the readout on Dr. Shen’s device?”
“Green lights across the board,” the first operator spoke up, “subject currently displays no psionic amplitude.”
“Confirmed,” a third operator spoke, “inhibitor is experiencing zero psionic load. Doctor Vahlen, we are ready to proceed.”
Doctor Vahlen was stood front and centre among the amassed researchers, her iconic clipboard held in her left hand and resting on her hip as always. She glanced at her notes. “First on the agenda,” she spoke aloud to the team behind her, “we determine the subject’s psionic limits. Engage the panels, sixteen kilovolts.”
“Engaging panels,” the operators spoke.

---

The shutters at either end of the room separated slightly with a loud clunk, moved outwards from the wall, and swung wide. Two long, mechanical arms entered the chamber, and they unfolded, bringing forth two large, circular pads. Each was the size of a tabletop, and both were pointed directly at the unicorn sat in the centre of the room.
Twilight sat still for a moment. They weren’t going to crush her, were they? She cautiously wondered whether it was safe to dismiss the idea, or if she needed to start moving, fast.
Then the humming started. A low, almost beastly, quiet buzz. It began to rise in intensity, becoming more and more grating against the mare’s ears, until finally, it reached a height that Twilight could barely hear herself think above, and held steady for a moment.
Suddenly, both pads came alive, arcs of blue-white lightning crackling along either surface, each lash of blinding light filling the cell with thunder and the smell of ozone. Twilight, panicking, helpless, and afraid, could do nothing but look between either electrode as they began to close in.

---

“Panels charged, beginning interrogation…” the operator spoke, a note of uncertainty in his voice.
Dr. Vahlen watched. Normally the shutters would be closed to prevent the research team from seeing anything graphic, but today they were left open. Today she was looking for something different. She remained utterly expressionless as she observed, and it made most of the accompanying scientists nervous.
“We’ve got psionic activity!” the second operator called out, “Load at 4.6Vh and rising!”
There was a faint glow around the subject’s horn, and it seemed to be concentrating, hard. The panels continued to move in regardless, unimpeded through the shielding provided by Dr. Shen’s inhibitor field. “Scale up the inhibition,” Vahlen ordered, “Continue engaging the panels.”
The two operators glanced at each other for a moment before complying. As the psionic damping lowered, the alien’s horn began to glow brighter, and the panels began to match the glow, faintly. Their movement was slowed slightly, but far from stopped.
“Load still rising,” the first operator spoke, “scaling up damping field to forty-five per cent… forty-six… forty-seven…”
“Don’t let it stop the electrodes,” Vahlen commanded, “but continue to monitor the load. We need to know just how powerful this specimen is.”

---

Twilight was scared out of her wits. Not by the panels, oh no. She’d managed to overcome whatever was blocking her magic, just enough to slow their advance, and she was stopping them more and more. In the time she’d bought for herself, she’d noticed the really scary thing.
That creature. The one at the front, in the white coat with the green stripes down the sleeves. The way it watched her. Twilight would have given anything for it to be cackling with laughter, or chuckling, or even giving her the knowing smirk of a powerful overlord that has an insignificant yet troublesome insect in its clutches at last.
What she got was nothing. The mouth was a straight, flat line. The eyes just watched. It didn’t move, didn’t speak. Didn’t care. To this creature, she was little more than a piece of meat to be cut apart and studied. Not a person to be feared, or gloated at, or interrorgated, but an animal to be studied.
As if that were bad enough, Twilight began to realise with horror that she almost recognised these creatures. They were, in many aspects, similar to the human residents of the world through the Crystal Mirror. Their heads were smaller, their bodies were broader, and they were all various shades of tan and brown, but the resemblance was definately there. And yet they were still subjecting her to this frightful, torturous study, no sympathy or concern visible upon their faces.
As the alicorn fought harder, sweat running down her face from the failing effort to hold the crackling lightning at bay, she realised how truly, properly alone and removed from her own kind she was, that her current, only hope was a woman that thought her so alien that it didn’t see her as even sentient. Or worse, so cold that it didn’t care.


***


“Did you learn anything, Doctor?” Officer Bradford asked the researcher, as he watched the hologlobe in the control room idly.
“A number of things,” Dr. Vahlen replied, “before the specimen gave out, we managed to obtain a rough estimate of its psionic strength.”
“’Gave out?’” Bradford turned to face his colleague, “You mean you tested it to death? I thought you said this thing was too valuable to lose?”
Vahlen frowned. “Not to death, Officer Bradford, the specimen hit its psionic limit and fainted from the strain. Dr. Shen’s device did admirably, and by using it to impede the specimen’s psionic effect, we managed to gauge its strength before fainting. The subject reached an output of two hundred and seventeen Vahlens before falling unconscious, and was still managing to affect its surroundings at an impedance factor of seventy-nine percent. By comparison, the highest psionic strength we’ve seen in one of our own soldiers has been eighty-two Vahlens.” Some would have called the doctor’s decision to name the standard unit of psionic power after herself to be self-aggrandising, but as far as she was concerned, there was a long history of this happening throughout science.
“Two-seventeen? You mean to tell me that thing is more than twice as powerful as our best soldiers?” Bradford’s voice raised a touch, but it wasn’t anger, neither was it directed at Vahlen.
“…Two-seventeen so far, Officer,” the doctor admitted, “but it’s possible that the continuous nature of the experiment wore it out before it could achieve higher. It may be able to use stronger forces in shorter bursts.”
Bradford mused for a moment. “Just for comparison, where do Ethereals fit on this scale?”
Vahlen checked her notepad. “We’ve yet to gauge an Ethereals’ maximum strength, but it is believed to be around the seven hundred region. Though, with the new damping system, we may be able to gain a more accurate estimate at lower risk to the facility’s personnel. At any rate, the highest we’ve seen an Ethereal demonstrate while unimpeded and in combat would be a power of four hundred and sixty Vahlens, exactly.” The immense power that Ethereals were capable of required any captives to be regularly injected with potent sedatives, to keep them from simply escaping confinement and freeing their compatriots to attack the facility from within.
“So this new alien is at least half as powerful as an Ethereal?” the man in the jumper asked.
Doctor Vahlen hesitated again. “As powerful as we’ve seen an Ethereal get, yes. It certainly beats any Sectoid Commander by at least half as much strength as they are capable of.”
Officer Bradford looked back up at the hologlobe, folding his arms. Musing, he murmured to himself, “Why would an engineer need so much power?”
“Heavy lifting, perhaps,” the doctor interrupted, “the specimen’s psionic abilities seem to rely more on its physical surroundings than on any opposing subject, though we will also be testing its capability at psionic combat while under damping.”
“I’d be interested in seeing that, when will you start?” The officer asked.
Dr. Vahlen smiled, a rare thing. “My team has already begun setting up,” she replied, “but I’ll let you choose which soldier should oppose it.”
> Test II: Mental Composure
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The door to Twilight’s tank slid open. She didn’t know how long it had been since the panel incident. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious for. She didn’t know what the electrodes had done to her, but she didn’t feel any different. At any rate, it seemed like they had new plans for her.
She slowly turned to face the door. There was a creature in it, bulky like the ones that had captured her, but its carapace was slimmer, and purple. It also lacked any shell around its head, and Twilight could see it was the same underneath as the researchers, a passable resemblance to the humans she was more familiar with, except for the eyes – its eyes were more fiery, more searching and reactionary. They quickly flitted across the room as it entered, before settling on her. The sides of the creature’s mouth turned upwards. Was it… smiling at her? Really? It wasn’t a confident grin or a cocky smirk, or a terrifying, maniacal grimace – it was just a smile. Warm, honest… the creature seemed to be enthusiastic about… whatever came next.
As it stepped into the room, Twilight saw that there was a long tail dragging along the floor behind it. It was so long that, no matter how far the creature walked into the room, it remained carrying out the door. Escaping through there wasn’t an option, though – the alicorn spied two of the heavier, bulkier carapaces on either side of the door, each carrying a small, boxy instrument that glowed blue from a nozzle on the front. Weapons of some sort, she decided.
A snapping noise drew Twilight’s attention back to the purple creature, and she saw that it had clicked it’s fingers together, the tips of which were uncovered, too. There was no sharp claw or wicked point at the end, though there was a firm-looking, but uselessly rounded, nail, making its hands similar to the ones she had possessed during her brief journeys through the Mirror. It (or he, if the alicorn were to hazard a guess) proceeded to gesture with one of them, to a point on the floor partway across the room from itself, directly opposite the centre. Twilight hesitated for a moment, before cautiously stepping over towards said point. Was this a test? What for? To see if she could follow directions?
She stood at the point, realising that she was now stood at one edge of a large circular metal sheet that made up the centre of the room’s floor, with the creature stood at the other end. He smiled again, still as warm an honest as ever, and nodded to her. Almost a bow, really. Twilight half-bowed back, mimicking his action. If this was a test, she was going to try and do well at it. And even if it was merely a test of her responses to external stimuli, they were sure to learn something about her. Maybe then they’d let her go?
The creature closed his eyes, and held its hands outwards from itself. Twilight felt the air become thicker, her fur beginning to stand on end slightly. His eyes opened, now faintly glowing a dark purple colour. Magic? What sort? She tensed, ready to jump away at a moment’s notice, as the creature drew its hand up to the front of its face, a ball of roiling violet energy floating between them. She knew what it was – pure magical energy. Completely invisible to the two guards at the door, or the other creatures watching. Maybe even to the purple-armoured one himself, but not to Twilight. She read in the amethyst curls a pattern, a structure, and most importantly, a purpose. It was much like looking at the horn of an untrained unicorn – you could tell what they were going to cast simply by glancing at it. Twilight knew what was about to happen, and so relaxed her tensed body, charged her horn slightly, and steeled her mind.
The creature put a lot of movement into his casting, taking a step forwards and two-handedly thrusting the wave of lilac swirls at her. They surged forwards, and she closed her eyes as they began coiling around her head. Immediately she felt it – a push of dominance on her consciousness, an attempt at controlling her. She fought it. It tried to creep in around her thoughts, and she struck out and blocked it. Inhibited like she was, it was all she could do – attempting an actual counter would take strength she didn’t have. On the other hoof, the other creature’s attempts were strong, but slow and clumsy – keeping it at bay took all of her magical strength, but little of her concentration.
Twilight opened her eyes, and studied the creature across from her. He was relaxed, but beads of sweat were appearing on his brow, which was set into a stern frown. His forelimbs moved fluidly, a somatic buffer to his mental struggle. The technique was seldom practiced by unicorns, but mages of other races would often make use of it – a bodily movement to help shape the spell. Judging by the sluggish movement of her opponent’s efforts, he needed all the help he could get.
Confident that she had it held back, Twilight started walking forwards. Or, at least, she tried to. Her muscles didn’t listen. She blinked, confused slightly, and looked down at her hooves. Except here neck didn’t respond. Ah. Seems her opponent had actually made some headway on immobilising her before assaulting her mind. Glancing at the swirling purple tendrils of magic, Twilight tried to pick out how it had hidden that, and was met with the odd observation that it hadn’t. How could it have paralysed her with a mind control spell? Maybe it had locked her within her own mind – which, apparently, included freedom to blink and look around. Odd. At any rate, it would’ve been easier to cast one mind control spell and one paralysis spell than try to use the former for two purposes. Twilight puzzled for a moment, before reasoning that maybe her opponent didn’t actually know how to incite paralysis. Huh.
And thus Twilight found herself in the odd predicament of being unable to move, unable to act, but completely free to observe and think. This would likely last until the strain of continued casting wore down her assailant, and with no real gauge of its power she couldn’t tell how long that would be. She could wait, though, since nothing else really demanded her attention. She watched, and waited.


***


The test had finished. It was a simple test, but too vague for the Head of Research’s liking. The results obtained here could not be final, but they made for a good estimate of a benchmark at least.
“What was it like, direct contact with the creature?” Doctor Vahlen asked, as a handful of scientists lingered nearby, taking notes. “Was it any different to the other?” She was addressing the lone soldier sat in the chair normally reserved for panel operators.
Sergeant Cameron Murray, Sniper, scratched his head. “It weren’t that different, I s’pose, but then I didn’t get to see a lot. That thing’s mind is a fortress, once it realises what’s happening.”
Doctor Vahlen raised and eyebrow. “Once it realises?”
The Scotsman nodded. “I made some headway into it’s mind before it put up any kind of defense. After that it was a stalemate, and call me a fool but I went an’ tried to paralyse the thing first. Cut of the conscious brain signals to the limbs, y’know?”
The doctor nodded. “An understandable action in combat, perhaps. In a secure testing environment…” she shook her head. “No matter. Did you glean anything else from the subject’s mind?”
“I…” Cameron paused for a moment. “It wasn’t so much a thought as a feeling, but… I think it’s a girl.”
There was a moment’s silence as the doctor gathered her thoughts. “It identified as having a gender?” Cameron nodded, to be met with a second thoughtful pause. “This is an unusual discovery. No previous test has shown any notion of gender identity in an alien’s mind, and if they repopulate their number via cloning, as the near-identical genome mapping of previous subjects indicates, there would be little need for such a feature.” She looked over at the nearby containment tank, in which the alien lay sleeping on the floor. “Why would they include it for this specimen?”
“I couldn’t begin to tell ye,” Sergeant Murray replied, ignoring the fact that Dr. Vahlen probably wasn’t addressing him when she spoke just now, “but that’s all I can give ye to go on. Everything after that was just holding it steady, and I can tell you this – if my lot had to go forty-seven minutes without a sniper on hand, they’d get into all kinds of trouble. Anything you can do to help us out in case more of ‘em show up would be greatly appreciated.”
Dr. Vahlen nodded. “It’s an impressive record, certainly, but my team will continue to study the specimen and see if there is some flaw in its defense, a reason for us to have never encountered one before.” She turned to address the sniper once more. “You are free to go, but with your permission we’d like to perform another psychological evaluation, in case direct contact with the subject’s mind has affected your own somehow.”
Cameron nodded. “Seems fair enough, I’ll be sure to check in to the medbay later.” He stood up and turned to leave, taking no more than two steps before pointing to the next closest staff member. “The psi suit linked up brilliantly, doctor, I barely recognised anything were different.”
Dr. Shen nodded, and the sniper continued out of the room. The older man then addressed Dr. Vahlen, “It’s a worrying thought, isn’t it? Holding a perfect defense for nearly fifty minutes while weakened.” He walked up besides her, and looked into the containment tank as she had. “Who knows what this one might be capable of at full strength?”
Dr. Vahlen’s response was, as usual, measured. “Not to worry, we have this one contained. Another showing up would be troublesome to say the least, but the fact that we only happened upon this one by chance makes it seem unlikely that we will see a second.” She paused for a moment. “I can only wonder, though, what need the aliens would have for a specimen that identifies with a gender? If they do not breed in the conventional sense, then what possible use would such a trait have?”


***


Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.
Heavy, dark green boots pounded on a metal floor.
Clink-clink, clink-clink, clink-clink.
Besides them, a set of altogether different feet walked the alien hallway.
Big, burly, bulky, and possessed of a single-minded determination, the Muton led its charge onwards, deeper into the ship. Good. This one was different, much different. It had been brought in with the last wave of captives, only a few planetary turns ago. It had gone unnoticed for some time, locked in a stasis pod that it barely fitted. But now, it had been discovered – a rogue element, an unbalancing factor.
A vast door of blue light melded away, revealing the bridge of the vessel. A few Sectoids shrank into the consoles they manned, seeking to evade the hulking brute now among them. It paid them no mind, for it’s task was simple – deliver the captive to it’s leader.
Said leader was still for some time. The entire room was. Slowly, unnaturally still, it turned, hanging in the air a few inches above the floor, heavy robes hanging straight downwards.
A single second of unspeaking study, an emotionless analysis of the captive, before a single twist of deepest purple energy seeped from the heavy mask surrounding the ruler’s head. It bore upon it a single thought, a single question.
Who are you?
It touched the creature. There was no response. Perhaps the wait in stasis had broken it too far, mde it loose all thought. Still, in circumstances such as these, a second attempt was almost required.
Who are you, and this time, where are you from?
Still no answer. The commander would have frowned, if it still believe emotion was worth the energy to feel, let alone express. Perhaps a third time, and then it would be done, one way or another.
Tell me what you are.
A second.
Two.
Nothing.
A small pity, perhaps, but not a great loss. There would be another chance, another-
No. No others. I and I alone.
The commander did not recoil, it did not react, but it paused. Interesting. It hadn’t sent that thought. This one possessed the Gift.
It asked again, What are you?
The response was spirit, fire, self-assuredness. It was exactly what the commander was hoping not to see, exactly what the abduction process was meant to remove, exactly what made its subordinates loyal through their lack of it, and its enemies dangerous from the intensity with which they felt it.
It was a sense of the self.
I am me.
> 16:26, 22nd February, 2016
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Twilight lay on the floor of her tank, and contemplated. Her mental contest with the man in purple had given her plenty of information – for a start, yes, he was male, or at least thought of himself as such. Probably. Attempting to read another pony’s thoughts outright was considered taboo back in Equestria, but having had Cadance for a foalsitter, Twilight had learned some basic empathic detection and emotion awareness. She hadn’t been privy to her opponent’s decisions, but had understood his feelings.
He had been very confident, to start with. That made sense, since he’d had another two allies behind him, along with the entire staff of whatever facility Twilight was now in, to back him up if she had proven troublesome. He had also been curious, eager and a little bit excited, but that was all subdued – Twilight guessed by a healthy dose of rationalism, since the contest had had all the trappings of a test of some sort, and that would give him a similar emotional investment to herself whenever she found some new, interesting thing to research.
Which pretty much sold her on one point - they were definitely studying her. She thought it odd that they would start with what her magical aptitude was, as opposed to, say, her problem-solving skills, understanding of mathematics, ability to communicate, or indeed anything that would indicate intelligence. Sure, her sheer skill with magic should make it evident that she was a learned mage and not merely a beast capable of natural magic, but that didn’t excuse the fact that their first test basically amounted to “If it got angry at us, how far would we have to run?”
Twilight gave a grumpy huff, and glanced out of the window of her cell.
There were a small number of the creatures – pseudo-humans, she had decided to name them for now – present in the room. One was stood at the door to her cell, and she believed there was a second one out of view next to him, meaning one on each of the door’s flanks. Another two were sat behind the boxy metal benches that were on the raised platform on the other side of the walkway that cut directly in front of her cell. She reasoned that up there they likely had a means of controlling the devices in her tank, along with all the readouts for whatever they were testing her with. At the moment, that was nothing, and both creatures were talking idly to each other. There was a third in the room, on a level below the main walkway, lugging around a big box and wearing a yellow, domed hat.
Twilight considered all of this. She had five idle, sentient minds, none of whom were directly observing her, and at least two of whom shared a common language. She could work a very little magic, probably enough to sense one of the assembled pseudo-humans’ emotions with enough left over for a simple clairaudience spell. Projecting her hearing outside of the thick glass wall wouldn’t be easy, but with the shutters open it would likely be enough. Projecting hearing instead of sight was like setting up two tin cans on a length of string instead of constructing a pair of binoculars, anyway. It was a lot easier.
Twilight took a deep breath to steady her anxiety, and charged her horn. She held it for a few moments, worried that the two creatures sat higher up would notice something on the machines assembled in front of them.
A second passed.
Two seconds.
Neither creature looked up.
A third second.
Four.
Five.
Okay, either they didn’t have anything set up to detect if she was using magic, such device only detected actual spell casts, or simply neither pseudo-human was paying attention. Since they were studying her magic and didn’t seem to be able to produce proper spell casts themselves, Twilight was forced to assume the latter.
And these were, she presumed, meant to be the smart ones. This would not be hard.
Twilight quickly finished casting the clairaudience spell, and smiled as the sounds from outside the cell entered her ears – whirring machinery, the clink of footfalls on metal walkways, and the strange chattering of the pseudo-humans’ speech. She simply enjoyed the returned sensation for a few moments, before pushing on. She had calculated correctly – casting a second spell while weakened as she was would be nigh impossible, but she could still read the humans’ emotional responses with a simple empathy channeling – not refined and structured correctly, just pushing outwards with sheer magic energy and force of will.
Twilight considered her options, before moving the source of her clairaudience to be directly between the two speaking pseudo-humans, and extending her thoughts to the two of them. It wasn’t perfect, but she didn’t have many options.
Time to learn something.


***


“What have you learned so far, doctor?” Officer Bradford asked, not wasting time on pleasantries as he walked into XCOM’s main laboratory.
Dr. Vahlen glanced over from where she was talking to one of her subordinates, before nodding at the man and moving towards Bradford. “Concerning the newest specimen, not a great deal so far. Our most recent efforts have been focused on understanding the subject’s psionic capabilities, to ensure that any encounters with more examples of the specimen do not result in the same casualties as our first.”
Officer Bradford nodded, “How is Captain Pimenova doing?”
The doctor frowned, before selecting a file on her data slate and displaying it on the nearest wall display. “Her condition is stable, and medically she is perfectly healthy,” she said, summarising the report on-screen, “but her neurological patterns are unusual. Different areas of the brain keep flaring with activity, as if it is trying to re-organise itself. For now, she remains effectively comatose, and it would be near impossible to tell when such a coma would end.”
Bradford grimaced. “It left quite a mark on her, that’s for sure.”
“Undoubtedly,” Dr. Vahlen replied, “It has been speculated that the cause of the unusual activity is due to Pimenova’s brain attempting to rationalise an imprinting of the subject’s mindset.” She glanced away from the screen, to be met with a blank stare from the military man. “In effect, it is trying to sort her memories from that of ‘Sparkles’ own.”
“You mean to tell me one of my soldiers could wake up thinking she’s a purple… thing?” Bradford asked, before sighing. “And here I was hoping we were past the casualties in this war. Speaking of, have you had any breakthroughs in medical research?”
“Not as yet,” the doctor replied, “My team has had some success in regrowing tissues using the Meld substance, which would allow the growth of transplant tissues to be surgically grafted to injured soldiers, but the procedure is still in its infancy. Attempting to regrow entire limbs is still well outside of our reach.”
“Doctor, I’ve got over twenty men and women upstairs that we owe the security of this planet to,” Bradford replied, “and the least we could do is use some of our resources to give them back what they’ve lost to the aliens. If you think of anything that might get some of them up and walking again, please look into it.” With that, he nodded and left.
Doctor Vahlen stayed silent. After all, it wasn’t her place to explain.


***


Twilight smiled. She felt like she was making good progress. The two creatures had talked for a long time, and then the one with the domed hat had walked up, briefly joined in, and then left. It had been two or three hours, and she was beginning to tire, but none of the pseudo-humans had noticed her continuous magic use.
She blinked, and her eyes were hesitant to open again. Okay, not just beginning to tire, then. She was about to turn off her clairaudience spell and try to get some sleep, when the door to the outside room opened again.
A male pseudo-human walked in, wearing the same sort of long white coat that the two she had been studying were clothed in. It was carrying a small handled box, and quickly walked over to the other two and began talking to them. Twilight couldn’t make out what was going on, but it eventually pointed to one of the panels on the console.
The other two turned to look at it.
There was a second’s pause.
Three pairs of eyes snapped around to look directly at Twilight.
Twilight’s own blinked in surprise, and almost refused to open again. This, she quickly surmised despite her tiredness, was not good. She cut off the clairaudience spell as one of the two sitting pseudo-humans leant over and began talking hurriedly to the console – into a microphone, she presumed. The more newly-arrived one began running towards the door of her cell, and Twilight noticed that the two guards outside it had become alert. Not good.
Twilight could still feel the emotions of the third coated creature as the door to her cell flew open. Concern. Alarm. Panic. Confusion. It didn’t know what she was doing, but it knew that it was bad. Her own sense of danger did nothing to help move the alicorn’s half-slumbering body, fatigue beating out panic even as the creature crossed her cell.
The pseudo-human placed a hand on her neck, and everything went dark.


***


Incident Report 00-1162
Time: 18:35
Date: 22nd February, 2016
Personnel involved: Dr W Asad, Dr P Thompson, Dr A Monsoor, Lt J Shmidt, Sgt G Wheeler, Technician R Barnes
Captives involved: X-014-1 “Sparkles”

Incident Summary: Dr Asad enters containment chamber A3, to sedate and collect captive X-014-1 for second medical diagnostic. Drs Thompson and Monsoor are stationed at cell monitoring station. Lt Shmidt and Sgt Wheeler are standing guard at cell A3. 
Dr Asad begins turnover of captive procedures with Drs Thompson and Monsoor, before noticing a load of 18.8Vh being registered on the cell’s console. Dr Thompson begins security protocols as Dr Asad moves to assist Lt Shmidt and Sgt Wheeler in re-establishing containment of X-014-1.
Upon noticing no physical activity from X-014-1, Dr Asad enters cell A3, covered by Lt Shmidt and Sgt Wheeler. Dr Asad checks X-014-1’s vital signs, before administering a sedative via injection. Psionic load ends at this point, and Dr Asad takes X-014-1, under guard from Lt Shmidt, to the research lab for the planned medical diagnostic.

Cause of Incident: X-014-1 was found in a state of moderate physical exhaustion, despite visual surveillance from Drs Thompson and Monsoor confirming that X-014-1 had not performed any physical exercise for several hours. Recordings of all measurements show that X-014-1 was exerting psionic stress for a corresponding time, yet interviews with all personnel involved in the incident deny any thought that it was trying to implicate its guardians, and interview with Technician Barnes confirms that the cell had experienced no more wear than would be typical for normal running. X-014-1 was not, therefore, attempting to escape during this period.

Analysis: One of two possibilities exists: either X-014-1 was attempting to send a psionic signal to other alien presences around Earth, and possesses a means of physically degrading its body to sustain its psionic output (an ability not observed in any other specimen or employed soldier), or X-014-1’s physical form is unstable in some regard, and it must make regular use of its psionic abilities to repair and maintain itself. In the case of the latter, it follows that the psionic inhibition that X-014-1 is placed under for containment is denying its ability to self-regulate, and therefore condemning it to a slow death by degradation. Given the value of the subject, this risk must not be taken lightly – a test will be devised as to ascertain the purpose of X-014-1’s psionic exertion, and determine what course of action must be taken.


***


Research Project: Subject X-014 “Sparkle.”
Date: 22nd February 2016

Physiology Assessment
X-ray analysis confirms an earlier theory – all four of X-014-1’s limbs end in a firm hoof-like structure, which is then covered by a thin layer of sensitive flesh and hair. This gives the subject a firm footing to move around on, while retaining sensitivity, though it has been questioned why such a sense would be necessary in an otherwise unwieldy limb.
X-014-1’s skeletal structure is otherwise as expected; a disproportioned facsimile of a terrestrial equine’s, with a pair of hollow-boned wings attached. Of note is the fact that the rest of X-014-1’s skeletal structure lacks hollow bones, which easily renders it too heavy to fly by traditional means.
Ultrasound scanning and metal detection reveal another anomaly; X-014-1 lacks any cybernetic implants. Such features are commonplace among other alien specimens observed, to either mitigate observed weaknesses or enhance inherent strengths, but X-014-1 remains entirely unenhanced. It was quickly realised that this meant that X-014-1 could be analysed using an MRI scan, rather than relying on ultrasound scanning from multiple angles, or a full-body autopsy at a later date.
MRI scanning confirmed many of the research staff’s suspicions, that X-014-1 is possessed of a single four-chambered heart, paired lungs, and a dietary tract not unlike that of many terrestrial mammals. Similar physiology is found in both the X-001 “Sectoid” and X-004 “Muton”, as well as a heavily atrophied version in the X-010 “Ethereal”. X-014-1’s lung structure also does not match the dispersed structures usually associated with avian species, instead being in line with the centralised model expected of terrestrial mammals. X-014-1 possesses a larger pancreas than was expected, which, coupled with the Initial Assessment's dental check revealing that X-014-1 has incisors and molars but no canines, indicates that X-014-1’s natural diet consists of plant matter high in sucrose and other sugars. X-014-1 has been observed to consume the nutrient-rich substance provided from the dispenser in Cell A3, and has not had any adverse reaction to it, nor shows any signs of malnourishment - specialised sustenance does not seem necessary.
The MRI scan also revealed another unexpected organ; a (presumably) healthy and functional uterus. All other alien species encountered so far possess identical DNA and either heavily atrophied or absent sexual organs. X-014-1, however, seems to still be capable of sexual reproduction, to the point where several members of the research team debated extraction of a single ovum as a tissue sample. This operation was not performed, but remains in discussion.

Further Research
Why would the alien collective need a species capable of sexual reproduction? Why has X-014-1 not been fitted with any cybernetic enhancement, as every other examined species has? Why does so little of X-014-1’s physiology conform to the low density that its wings would require, even if flight is supplemented by psionics? Given the presence of several animal DNA markers in all collected alien nutritional substances, does X-014-1, seemingly a herbivore, require a separate food source, and if so, why has no such source been encountered among captured alien vessels?
Blood, saliva and small tissue samples were collected from the subject, and are under preparation for genome mapping. A test to determine whether we are correct in X-014s assumed role as an alien engineer is in planning, but is on hold until a full analysis of Incident 00-1162 can be conducted.
> Test III: Incident 00-1162
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	06:00, 24th February, 2016
The doors to Containment Chamber A3 slid open, and Dr Richards walked in. He had, in hand, the same satchel of equipment that he’d used yesterday – all cleaned and sterilised since then, of course. He walked to the two fellow scientists sat at the monitoring station, quickly ran through security protocols with them, and walked over to cell 3A’s door.
Neither of the two soldiers on guard duty looked at him, remaining professionally stoic. He noted, not for the first time, how serious the security around this cell was. Ordinarily, there would be only one member of security personnel at the door, dressed in their characteristic fatigues and carrying a ballistic rifle (although Dr Vahlen had made a point that all such personnel be equipped with, and prioritise use of, Arc Throwers for re-containment).
This cell, though? Two actual soldiers, one lieutenant and one captain, by their insignia, both dressed in Titan armour, both wielding the overbuilt, overcharged Arc Rifles that Vahlen had made specifically for this chamber. And just outside the chamber, another two soldiers, this time with plasma rifles. It was, Richards noted, a little intimidating.
Most of the research team weren’t much involved with this particular cell, though – it was still merely one research task among many, following the failure of the alien invasion. Richards himself was new to its running, enlisted more for his expertise prior to joining the secretive organisation – doctors and professors of quantum and theoretical sciences were the norm in Vahlen’s labs, so they didn’t have a huge number of veterinary experts.
Richards walked, unafraid, towards the purple alien as it watched him approach. It looked at him as he span his pen in his hand and checked off the first point on his clipboard, merely observing. He smiled as he spoke the first little, disarming phrase he’d invented yesterday.
“Good morning, Sparkles,” he said, setting down the satchel, opening it, and drawing out a stethoscope, “just doing a quick check-up.”

***

Twilight Sparkle was not entirely sure why the pseudo-humans had started doing this. She’d been here for… a long time, at least, and they were now monitoring her vital signs daily, noon and night. Why? Why only start now when they’d had her captive for (what she believed was) at least three days? Were they suddenly more worried about her or something?
She mentally shrugged as she felt the cold metal disk press against her breast, then be repositioned to her upper barrel. Questions for later. Her own studies should continue for now, and thankfully, the man they had doing this was an excellent subject.
Not needing the clairaudience spell helped, of course.

***

09:00, 24th February, 2016
Twilight was hesitant, to say the least. About an hour and a half after the medical examination had ended, a pair of scientists had wheeled a boxy machine on a trolley into the chamber outside her tank. In the following hour, more equipment, more scientists, and a few of the heavily-carapaced creatures with the long tails had walked in, each taking position and setting up their equipment outside her cell.
And then, of course, she had walked in.
Twilight still didn’t have a name for the brown-haired woman with the green stripe down each sleeve of her coat, but her mere presence promised one thing; another test.
Twilight took a deep breath in, held it for a second, and then slowly let it out. She did not, however, do the pushing-away movement with her hoof – this would not be put off or delayed, it could only be confronted with a focused, calm, opportunistic mind.
The creatures were ready. They stood motionless, watching. One of the ones sat at a steel bench began speaking, likely counting.
Twilight had to really try not to grin as she cast her clairaudience spell.

***

“-One. Lowering psionic impedance,” the technician at the console called out.
“Psionic Signal Analyser engaged,” a scientist replied.
Dr Vahlen did not smile as she took note of all of this. They were here for a simple reason – to find out what X-014-1 had been trying to do the day before last. Already the same series of psionic waves had been detected, which was good – this whole test would have been pointless with an uncooperative subject.
“We have a new reading!” the scientist called out again, “A second signal, matching the third recorded wavelength, lagging roughly one-sixteenth of a phase behind.”
“Damping field down to eighty-five percent… eighty-four…” the technician continued reading off of his display.
“Be ready to maintain impedance when I say so,” Dr Vahlen instructed. She did not, precisely, know what she was looking for. X-014-1 was going to try something, she was sure, and the only logical thing to do was to discover what it had been attempting by analysing what it attempted now.

***

Officer Bradford stood in the Control Room with his arms folded, waiting patiently. He was not, strictly speaking, happy about today’s planned experiment. But, Dr Vahlen was head of research and development, not him, and thus it had gone ahead. He had, however managed to set up a reasonable security response in case anything happened, and Dr Shen’s team had managed to scratch-build a device that he had requested.
The hologlobe sat motionless in the air, waiting. If Sparkles was trying to get a distress call out to other aliens, the least XCOM could do was be ready to greet them…

***

Twilight had to try very, very hard not to smile even a little bit now. Whatever was blocking her magic – something the pseudo-humans had devised and could control, she believed, debunking her earlier theory of a toxin of some sort – was getting weaker and weaker. She did, of course, assume that this was part of the test. She understood that she wasn’t doing what they wanted her to; judging by the continued staring of the brown-haired woman, but Twilight hardly cared.
She had her sense expanded to all of them, now. She could feel what they felt, every last one of them. The mild state of apprehension outside was easily overcome by the sheer curiosity of the ones in coats. Especially, of course, the brown-haired one; Twilight knew just how she was feeling, and the sheer hope that something major was about to happen, something revolutionary and astounding, something that cemented her theories and conclusions as solid fact, was overwhelming.
It was kind of funny, Twilight had to admit – here was a woman whom Twilight herself could have become just like, if her life hadn’t been drastically changed the Summer Sun Celebration before last. Twilight knew how big of a disappointment it would be for her, if she were to just stand here and keep reading emotions the same way she had already done. And besides, they were giving her ample room to work with, and organising the emotive responses of twenty-something sentient beings was well beyond even Twilight’s abilities.
Once again, Twilight found herself going to her old fall-back – something she’d read in a book once. Specifically, the Ludicrously Large Linguistics Lexicon.

***

“We have a new signal!” the scientist overseeing the psionic detector shouted out, “six- no, eight separate wavelengths, all converging every seventeenth phase!”
Dr Vahlen nodded at the technician operating the damping field, before stepping up beside the other scientist and looking at the device’s display. “Incredible,” she spoke, as the rest of the research team crowded around her, “the sheer mental discipline of the creature to maintain an array of signals such as this alone would be astounding. To continue it alongside twenty-six other waves, no matter how simple each of them are…” XCOM’s Head of Research found herself utterly lost for words for a moment, before turning to her subordinates. “We can decode this signal later. For now, I need to know two things – where is it broadcasting this to, and are we receiving a reply of any sort?”
“Uh,” one of the research team spoke up, “I’m not sure how to say this, ma’am, but it isn’t.”
Dr Vahlen raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t…?” she verbally prodded.
The scientist shrugged. “Isn’t broadcasting, ma’am. No psionic energy is entering or leaving this chamber.”
The doctor was silent for a moment, before turning to a third scientist, “How are the creature’s vital signs?”
“Picture of health, Ma’am,” he replied concisely.
“Well then,” she said with a sense of finality, “I believe that we can conclude from this that specimens of X-014 are biologically unstable in some regard, and make use of a complex array of psionic powers to maintain their physical form.” She checked her data slate before continuing, “Given the lack of permanent physical degradation witnessed in the subject so far, I believe it is reasonable to lower the resistance of the psionic dampener to fifty-eight percent on a weekly basis. Everyone, continue to monitor the specimen until that signal ends, and make a note of how long it took. It is important that our allowing it to self-repair does not also allow it to attempt an unimpeded escape.”
The assembled scientists voiced their agreement, and Dr Vahlen swiftly left the room, her stride confident and unfaltering. The door closed shut behind her.
“I’ve gotta say,” one of the scientists began, “I could watch that ass all day.”
“Dr Vahlen wears a full-length coat, Leonard,” another scientist replied, still monitoring his station, “You can’t even see ‘that ass.’”
“I can dream.” Leonard retorted defensively, before glancing around. “So, Wesley, how’s the wife and kids?”
The technician shrugged, and the research team began to chat idly until something exciting happened.
Which was exactly what Twilight Sparkle wanted.

> 06:00, 25th February, 2016
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	0600, 25th February, 2016
Dr Richards was whistling as he entered Chamber A3. He’d been briefed on the results of Dr Vahlen’s little experiment yesterday, and felt a lot better about being in a small, enclosed cell with an unrestrained alien. 
He went through security protocol with the two technicians at the desk smoothly.
Sure, the extra security measures were still in place, but the alien had made no attempt to escape or communicate with the outside world for the entire time the damping field had been lowered.
He nodded to the two men guarding the door as it slid open.
The only reason both men even needed to be there was that the protocol hadn’t changed, most likely. If the X-014 had to self-repair frequently, it couldn’t be much of a physical threat. Coupled with the damping field that hadn’t had a single hiccup since being installed, and a behaviour that indicated X-014-1 didn’t even want to escape, the alien could easily be contained by standard base security personnel, surely.
He twirled his pen in his hand as he stepped into the cell. “Good Morning, Sparkles,” he greeted the creature. Protocol wasn’t the only thing that didn’t change overnight.
“Good morning, Doctor Richards.”
The pen hit the ground with a clatter, forgotten. Dr Richards’ eyes leapt up from his clipboard, staring wide-eyed at the purple alien before him.
X-014-1 was sat back on its hindquarters, with its forelegs extended to the ground, instead of its usual lying down position. It was regarding him with its oversized eyes, calmly studying his face. Its mouth was closed, but the corners were slightly upturned.
It was… smiling?
The mouth opened.
“How are you today?” it asked, its voice steady and confident.
Dr Richards remained frozen for a moment, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide. He raised his head slightly as if to nod, and then about turned and ran out of the cell, all concern for security protocols and medical check-ups as forgotten as the biro on the cell floor.


***


Dr Vahlen regarded the screen before her with a great lack of care. This was due to several reasons; first of all, Dr Vahlen was not exactly someone who could be called a 'morning person,' and even while living in a military base a hundred metres underground, her body clock would not desynchronise from when the sun actually came up – which, with it currently being six o’ clock in the morning, February, and at an undisclosed location somewhere in or near Germany, it hadn’t yet.
Secondly, she hadn’t yet had the morning coffee that would have almost helped to offset the first reason.
And lastly, she had left the overnight team of researchers with a simple task to help flesh out her next experiment for X-014-1, to confirm its role among the alien forces. The proposed idea was to first see if it exhibited behaviour that would be expected of an engineer species, such as dismantling mechanical items to discover how they worked, or attempting to repair broken alien technology. Obviously, they would have to be careful regarding what items were used, so that X-014-1 could not threaten the facility or broadcast any information to the remnants of the alien fleet.
The overnight team’s task had been to devise a list of items that would be mechanically complex enough to rouse X-014-1’s interest, without possibly being re-engineered into any sort of weapon or communications devise. It was easy to understand why she felt particularly underwhelmed by the screen before her, which displayed a single picture of a clockwork mouse, and the words 'wind-up radio' that had been struck through.
She turned to the extremely nervous-looking technician beside her. The fact that he was nearly a head taller than her seemed to do little to help his confidence, an observation that XCOM’s chief of research felt would be quite beneficial for what she was about to say.
“You do realise,” the wizened voice of Dr Shen spoke first, “that a typical commercial radio set doesn’t contain a transmitting antenna, only a receiver?” Unlike his counterpart in R&D, the chief engineer handled early mornings as if the day started at half past four.
The technician looked at Dr Shen, before glancing nervously at Dr Vahlen and back. “I, uh, I didn’t actually. I guess we could put it back on the list, then, right?”
Dr Vahlen sighed. “Regardless, that still leaves us with only two items for the test, both of them already functional and human in origin.”
“Yes, well,” the aide replied, “it’s… not been easy thinking of an alien device that doesn’t contain an Elerium power core, since those could be rewired to, well…”
“Explode, yes,” Dr Vahlen finished, “and attempting to integrate a human-designed power source could defeat the whole objective.” She mused for a moment. “Perhaps if-”
“DOCTOR VAHLEN!” Dr Richards burst into the room, “Ma’am!”
Dr Vahlen ended her sentence with a sigh, and turned to face her subordinate. “Yes, Dr Richards?” she asked, tiredly.
“It’s Sparkle, Ma’am, it’s, well, there’s been a development.” Dr Richards spoke quickly, his eyes still a little wide with surprise and his hands waving slightly as if trying to find something appropriate to pantomime.
The chief scientist stood a little straighter. “There has?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“It’s talking, Ma’am. English, plain as day.”
Dr Vahlen was motionless for a moment. Then, with haste more commonly seen in XCOM’s military arm when someone shouts ‘Chryssalid,’ snatched her data slate from the desk and rushed out of the room, grabbing Dr Richards by the sleeve as she went, all notion of coffee requirement vanished from her mind. 
“Uh,” the technician still in the lab stuttered, before turning to Dr Shen.
“Well, we can either stay here and think of more test devices,” the older man helpfully suggested, “or we can follow them. Personally,” he began to follow Dr Vahlen’s footsteps at a more sedate pace, “I like to be where the important events take place.”
The technician thought for a moment, nodded, and jogged a little to catch up to the chief engineer.


***


All things considered, Twilight reasoned, this could be going a lot worse.
She was currently lying on the ground in the exact spot she had been standing when she greeted Dr Richards, making a good show of being motionless and non-hostile. This was mostly a response to the fact that the door was still open, with both guards outside aiming their weapons at her. She’d managed to piece together during her time studying the pseudo-humans that these two were only allowed to use force if she attempted to break containment in any way, so if she stayed in her cell they wouldn’t trouble her.
Dr Richards had made quite the show, though, so it seemed likely that neither guard was sure whether or not she had already tried. The two men at the control panels looked unsure, too, and Twilight all too well remembered the electric panels from… a while ago.
She made a mental note to use her new common language with her captors to ask for a clock and a calendar, and then expanded that mental note into a mental checklist of amenities and improvements. She’d got as far as item #65 (a table lamp, following somewhere behind a bedside table, a bed, a supply of literature, and the huge light in the ceiling being turned off whenever it was dark outside) when Dr Vahlen arrived.
Twilight smiled to herself as she watched the woman, happy that she was about to speak to someone a little less likely to scream and run away.
Dr Vahlen walked briskly to the control desk (followed by a nervous Dr Richards), and began giving the two men behind it orders as she stepped onto the raised platform to join them.
Twilight steadily stood up, thinking that it would be rude to greet the head scientist while lying down. Dr Vahlen hadn’t moved to enter the cell yet, of course, but she would certainly want to speak to the alicorn personally.
Then the cells doors slid shut.
Oh. Well, that made sense, Twilight guessed. She’d caused a security breach, she knew, but she had thought maybe the chief scientist would confirm she was a threat before locking her up again. The purple pony turned to look out of the large window of her cell, instead of waiting expectantly facing the door.
Dr Vahlen was tapping away on her clipboard-screen-thing, and sat next to a pointy thing rising out of the console in front of her. She said something else to the three men alongside her, watched as one of them flipped a switch, and then turned to look at Twilight.
“Initiating Experiment X-014-1-E, Test for Vocal Communication,” the chief of research’s voice echoed around Twilight’s cell, causing the alicorn to jump slightly, “Addendum: this experiment is entirely unplanned, and is merely a confirmation that X-014-1 is capable of vocal communication in terrestrial languages, and not intended to determine the extent of its abilities.”
Twilight’s heart sank a little. She had hoped to not be described as an ‘It’ to her face.
“Test commencing at 06:37am, activate speakers in holding cell.” There was a pause, and Twilight saw one of the other scientists turn to speak to Dr Vahlen. She turned to look at him, held the stare for a few seconds, and then turned back to the microphone. The sigh that echoed around Twilight’s cell was probably meant to be private. Vahlen sat a little more upright, and spoke again. “Hello, X-014-1.”
Twilight smiled at her through eight inches of ballistic glass. “Hello, Doctor Vahlen,” she replied, “how are you today?”
The doctor nodded, and replied, “Well enough. X-014-1, I’d like to ask you a few questions, to ensure that you aren’t simply parroting replies you may have heard elsewhere. Is that okay?”
Twilight mused for a moment. “Well, I only learnt fairly recently, so my words known aren’t very many, but feel free, and I’ll try to say when I don’t have the right words for something.”
Dr Vahlen raised an eyebrow. “Really? When did you learn?”
Twilight Sparkle smiled as she replied, “Yesterday.”
The doctor almost fell out of her chair. “Yesterday!? How!?”
The alicorn upgraded her pleasant smile to beaming with pride as she replied, “‘Complex array of psionic powers!’ One count remote hearing, twenty-four count other’s feeling, one count fastest discovering!” Twilight was very aware of the fact that she didn’t really have a word for ‘magic’ at the moment, so she’d had to resort to Vahlen’s own words from the day before.
Dr Vahlen looked to be almost in shock. “You… you used psionics to learn faster?”
Twilight nodded. “It’s a really useful power, but it only works with… talking, and writing. Don’t have proper word, but it gives me knowing meaning of words I hear or read!”
“Languages, then?” Dr Vahlen queried, to be met with a nod. “So, if more subjects were to speak in your presence, you’d be able to learn simply by listening?” Another nod. The woman in white furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “What do you do, exactly? Tell me about yourself.”
Twilight took a moment to pick out what she felt would be the best words to use in place of the ones she didn’t know, before placing a hoof to her chest to introduce herself. “My name is Twilight Sparkle. I am a wings-pointy-psion horse (wrong words). I am also an Officer (wrong word) of Horse Country (wrong words) and personal scientist of Officer Sunrise (wrong words). I bear the Element of Psionics, which is one of six Element of Spectral Lasers,” She thought for a moment, before adding, “Probably wrong words. Elements of… fitting-together-smoothness. Convergence?” She looked at Dr Vahlen for help.
The doctor had a mixed expression on her face. “Well, that certainly raises further questions, but it does at least confirm that you understand what you’re saying, if only by its inaccuracy.” She tried to think of a follow-up question, but nothing came.
The chair next to the chief of research creaked a little as a new arrival sat in it, leaning back into the seat. “Is there anything we could do to possibly help you learn faster, so that we can both better understand each other?” Dr Shen asked. Dr Vahlen nodded in agreement.
Twilight tapped a hoof against her chin. “Well, you could alleviate whatever’s blocking my psionic, so that I can keep the array going longer.”
Dr Vahlen frowned. “Undoubtedly true, but unfortunately base protocol requires that all psionic detainees be secured in such a state that they cannot compromise their security measures.”
Twilight half-nodded. “Uh…” She glanced at Dr Shen.
The engineer smiled a little. “Basically we aren’t allowed to do that easily, and it would be difficult to convince our superiors otherwise.”
Twilight nodded fully this time, and mused for another moment. “Well… I don’t think you’ll like the idea, but I could learn more of your language even faster if I had access to a fluent speaker’s mind.” She held up a hoof disarmingly, and added “I’ve refrained from doing it so far because I’d consider it a breach of thought privacy if I did it without permission, but with a willing assistant I could do it at a low power over an extended period of time.”
There was silence for a moment, before Dr Shen turned and spoke to his colleague, “We’d still have difficulty convincing Officer Bradford of this, given that it would put a member of base personnel at risk.”
Dr Vahlen thought for a moment longer before replying, “I believe I can find a way around that. After all, we only need a fluent speaker, not an XCOM employee.” She looked back to the cell and the alicorn contained within. “We’ll give this some thought, and see if we can come to a conclusion to help you learn. In the meantime, do you have anything you’d like to ask us?”
Twilight didn’t really need to think about it – this appeared to be a military operation, and they’d captured her thinking she was hostile, that much was clear. Under that presumption, they’d be unwilling to tell her anything about said operation, at least until she proved herself innocent, so no use asking about that. Instead she went with one of the more pressing items on her mental list from earlier.
“Can I get something to eat?” she asked, before glancing at a small hollow in the back wall of her cell. “The paste stuff’s kind of awful, if I’m honest.” ‘Wet Cardboard’ would be a generous description, in the young princess’ opinion.
Dr Vahlen nodded. It was essentially nutrient-rich slurry primarily made from stewed bulk vegetables like potatoes and rice, and had been carefully balanced to keep the larger specimens in a state of lethargy – alive, but without the energy to attempt escaping. “I’m certain that that can be arranged.” She looked meaningfully at the technician who had given the incredibly short list of devices earlier – hopefully he’d be better at putting together a menu of non-explosive edibles. 
“Dr Vahlen, closing Experiment X-014-1-E, at 07:02am, closing report to follow.” With that, the doctor stood from her seat, picked up her data slate, and began walking out of the room, beginning to type her closing statement to the report as she did so. Dr Shen stopped to thank Twilight for her time before following.
There was a brief moment of silence, before one of the research team rolled his chair across to the microphone. “So, uh, for now I’m thinking I just grab you a sandwich from the canteen?” he asked.
Twilight chuckled. “That’d be nice, Dr Richards. Anything vegetarian, please.”


***


Everything was proceeding with promise.
The Ethereal hung motionless in the air, heavy mask expressionless as it studied the holographic display before it.
Certainly, this was a problematic time for it – their High Priest had been assassinated, their Temple Ship destroyed, and the communication system it served as the hub for severed.
That would be incidental, had it not also proved that their time here was wasted. The New One had refused a place among the Ethereals, as their chosen, as their preferred, as their ally. Instead, the New One had chosen independence, condemning the race of human kind to solitude. Proving, beyond all doubt, that human kind was volatile, and that any further attempt to bring them into the Collective would be taxing. Not to mention that supressing said independence would likely leave a human broken, and incapable of using the Gift with any real proficiency.
Still, now alone and purposeless, in the darkest hour of the Collective, a small hope remained. A new New One. Strong, agile, and above all else, Gifted. Still full of fire, still self-assured, still independent, but more reasonable.
The Ethereal allowed itself a moment of weakness, as it watched the unusual abductee train, outsmarting Mutons, outmaneuvering Floaters and overpowering Alpha Sectoids, to experience something it had not felt in eons: hope.
The New One had been their undoing, but the Found One would be their salvation.
	
> 08:00, 25th February, 2016
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

0800, 25th February, 2016
Twilight Sparkle’s teeth tore another chunk out of the baguette hovering before them. She began to devour the sandwich anew, savouring every crunch of lettuce, delighting in the juiciness of the tomato, and relishing the sweetness of the beetroot.
Nutrient paste, it turned out, had exactly one positive aspect: it made everything else taste that much better afterwards. The sandwich could have used some buttercups, sure, but Twilight was already half-collapsed in a state of bliss; she really didn’t need this to be any more delicious.
Outside her taste nirvana, Twilight heard the door that led out of the room open. She opened her eyes, and saw a man in a purple carapace – the same as she had previously encountered, she believed – being escorted in by a pair of guards. Unlike most of the ones she had seen, these two wore bulky blue-grey jackets and matching soft caps; less real armour, more like a protective uniform. Both carried boxy instruments in a similar colour, which the young alicorn assumed were weapons.
A scientist accompanied the trio, but not one that Twilight had met before. She stepped up into the control booth as the armoured man was ushered past it, and spoke briefly to the two researchers already sat there before taking a seat herself. The man in purple, meanwhile, was walked to the entrance to her cell, where a waiting technician affixed a long cable to the reverse of his suit – the long tail-like structure she’d noted last time. Twilight quickly finished the last few bites of her sandwich in the short pause that followed; this seemed important.
The new scientist spoke into the microphone for a few seconds, before nodding to one of her companions, who flipped a switch. “X-014-1,” her words echoed a little in the chamber, “we have a fluent speaker for you to learn from. You’ll be using psionics to accelerate the process, correct?”
Twilight looked through the glass screen separating her from the researchers, trying to gauge their intentions. On the one hoof, this would help her out immensely, but Twilight couldn’t help but remember her last encounter with this man – he could overpower her, if need be. She was to learn their language, but was he to try to learn something from her in turn?
“I will, yes,” Twilight replied concisely.
“Good,” the woman replied, her eyes focused on the instruments in front of her rather than on the alicorn, “will you need the damping field alleviated?”
Twilight mused for a moment. If it were lowered enough, she would have no trouble defending herself from the man. Ask for it to be lowered too much, and they might deem it too risky to send him in at all… “Not certainly,” she spoke, “I can make the process longer, and use less power.”
“Excellent, damping field remaining at ninety-five percent,” the researcher replied, “ready to introduce subject Murray to cell A3, test beginning in five,” she began to count down.
At zero, the door to Twilight’s cell slid open, and the man in purple stepped inside. The door stayed open behind him, with the four guards outside taking up crouched stances and using the doorway for cover again.
The armoured man steeped deeper into the room, his pace even and relaxed. Twilight spoke first. “Hello,” she said, raising a hoof from the floor in a wave, “My name is Twilight Sparkle.”
“Nice to meet you again, Miss Sparkle,” the man responded, reaching the same edge of the circular section he had stopped at last time. This time, however, he lowered himself into a crouch, coming down to be at eye level with her. “I understand you want t’ learn English?”
“Yes, please,” Twilight replied with a smile, “I would like to use psionics to learn directly from your mind, if that’s okay? Obviously I’ll be sure not to-”
“Sure thing,” the man interrupted.
Twilight blinked twice, stunned. “Y-you’re perfectly accepting with that? Just laying your mind completely open?”
“Well,” the soldier spoke, before stopping with a frown on his face. He held the expression for merely a second, before shrugging and continuing, “I trust you well enough, I guess.”
Twilight blinked again. “You do?” she asked, a little touched.
The man nodded. “Sure, well, you and all the safeguards the lab boys have put in place. But hey, if you’re trying to learn something, hurting the guy you’re learning from doesn’t make any sense, right?”
Twilight thought for a moment. “That… makes sense, I suppose. Oh!” she exclaimed, sitting upright, “I don’t have your name yet, mister…?”
“Sergeant Cameron Murray,” the man replied, offering out his right hand. Twilight glanced at it for a moment, before placing her right hoof in it, and they shook.
“Well then, Mr Murray, you might want to make yourself comfortable,” Twilight continued, taking her hoof back, “this could take a while.”
Sgt Murray nodded, and sat cross legged on the floor while speaking, “Anything I can do to move things along a bit easier?”
Twilight nodded, smiling. “Thinking through what you know will help me find it better,” she explained. Sgt Murray closed his eyes and nodded, and Twilight began, a long, violet stream of psionic power twisting through the air from her horn to the man’s head.
Their conciousnesses touched for the briefest moment, before Twilight traced the nursery rhyme that the soldier was reciting back along its neural connections. There were memories and associations tied to each and every word, changing as the rhyme was thought out, but the alicorn had only to follow the few pathways that never changed. She found a few very old memories, which she left alone for the sake of the sergeant’s privacy, and a spread-out, foundation knowledge – a sort of fundamental layer upon which much of the man’s knowledge and experience was built. A quick search for a few key words later, and Twilight was certain – this was the man’s knowledge of English.
There are connections here, she directed thought at the mind around her, lots of them. Some will be synonyms, alliterations, that sort of thing. I don’t strictly speaking need to look through them, but it would help a lot. Other connections will be memories and experiences, possibly personal ones. I’ll avoid looking at those for too long, and ask you before looking into something further, okay?
Twilight felt understanding and consent emanate from the mindscape around her, allowing her to continue. Her mind focused, her spell was cast, and she began to feel every point of data she found being copied to her own mind. It was exhilarating – Twilight had never studied in this way, directly from another’s mind. The sheer speed with which she was learning, and something as complicated as a whole language at that…
Of course, many of the connections she encountered reminded her why this was considered unacceptable practice in Equestria. Even taking only glances to determine what each of them contained, Twilight picked up more than enough knowledge to blackmail the soldier for the rest of his days – that is, if she weren’t planning to run an expungement spell later to remove them.
Twilight quickly reached a word that made her pause, concerned, both for its nature and the sheer number of associations it had with more of the soldier’s knowledge.
Enemy.
Twilight brought her mental probe back to Sgt Murray’s own conscious thought, and asked what this meant, and if she could explore these connections further.
There was silence for a moment before the response came. You can, but I warn you, it’s a proper ugly business.
Twilight hesitated before returning to the word, and testing one of the connections.
She found an image, of scorched forestry, and burning earth. A handful of soldiers, wearing a different sort of armour – bulkier than what she had already seen, and much more protective-looking than the uniforms – were stood or squatted in cover, metallic rectangular weapons in their grip. One had stepped out to engage a foe further ahead, a bright red beam of light surging forward from his weapon, missing his target and melting a shard of metal sheet sticking out of the ground some way beyond.
The target itself seemed to be the focal point of the image – a hulking behemoth, in heavy green armour with glowing lines. Three-fingered hands gripped a weapon of smoother contours, a silvery grey metal with a glowing green core. Two more of the creatures were nearby, one opening fire upon the soldiers, obliterating the tree one was using for cover.
Sergeant Marquez survived, thank god, Sgt Murray’s voice echoed through his mindscape, but he were hospitalised for a week. Damn near lost his leg, too.
Twilight backed out of the scene, shaken. There had been a war, and there had been casualties. It may even still be ongoing. Steeling herself, she picked another of the connections, and followed it to the attached memory.
The same men, the same armour. The weapons were different, looking more like the ones carried by the guards escorting Sgt Murray, only in a blue to match some of their armour.
Aye, this was back before we had lasers, Murray’s voice came forth again, but at least we had the alloy armour by then. Don’t know how we’d have survived the ‘lids without it.
Many of the squad were upright, several of them firing their weapons, bursts of bright light surrounding their points. A creature had been slain mid-run, a squat, angular thing, with four pointed legs and two clawed arms. Rows of glowing spines up its back led to a flat head, sporting a vicious pair of mandibles beneath hungry, yellow eyes. A second, still living creature followed shortly behind.
Chryssalids. You hear that word get shouted, Miss Sparkle, and you turn the safety off whatever you’re firing. No amount of running or hiding will save you, and be thankful I’ve only heard what happens when they reach you, not seen it.
What was this war about, Sergeant? Twilight asked, her sense of dread rising, Who were you fighting?
There was another moment of silence in the man’s mind, before his voice came again. You might want to make yourself comfortable, Miss Sparkle. This could take a while.


***


Research Project: Subject X-014 “Sparkle.”
Date: 25th February 2016
Experiment X-014-1-F:  Direct Mental Education
Personnel: Sgt C Murray

Experiment Summary
Sgt Murray transported under guard from Cell C7 to Cell A3. Security protocols for Cell A3 cleared and Sgt Murray introduced to cell, which contains X-014-1. Cell A3 is under a psionic impedance field of 95% at time of experiment, with Sgt Murray wearing a psi suit calibrated to except him from the impedance.
X-014-1 greets Sgt Murray in English. Sgt Murray returns the greeting, and states his reason for introduction to X-014-1 (being the improvement of X-014-1’s linguistic skills). X-014-1 confirms this statement’s accuracy, and asks that Sgt Murray be comfortable for what is likely to be an extended procedure. Sgt Murray sits down, and X-014-1 states that it will begin.
X-014-1 begins emitting a psionic signal measuring 18.4Vh, which seems to be directed at Sgt Murray. X-014-1 maintains this signal for a total time of one hour and eighteen minutes, in a standing posture with its eyes closed. At the indicated time, the signal ends, and X-014-1 thanks Sgt Murray for his time and says farewell. Sgt Murray is removed from Cell A3 and escorted under guard to the infirmary for a neural pattern test.
X-014-1 is asked to repeat her earlier self-identification from Experiment X-014-1-E, using any improvements in English that she now understands. X-014-1 agrees, and speaks as follows:
“My name is Twilight Sparkle. I am an alicorn. I am also a Princess of Equestria, and personal student of Princess Celestia. I bear the Element of Magic, which is one of six Elements of Harmony.”
X-014-1 is then presented with a selection of grammatically incorrect sentences, and asked to correct them each time. X-014-1 does so correctly each time, including correcting two undeliberate mistakes made by research personnel.
End of experiment and further research are announced, to which X-014-1 made a response, noted below.

Further Research 
Given X-014-1’s new mastery of the English language, an interview has been arranged between X-014-1, key research personnel, and at X-014-1’s request, Central Officer Bradford. It is currently unknown how X-014-1 knows of CO Bradford, though it seems likely that it learnt of him from Sgt Murray. An inquiry will nevertheless be made to all research and security personnel who have been stationed in Chamber A3 as to whether any one of them has mentioned him. A full interview with Sgt Murray is also in planning, to determine what may have been discussed between X-014-1 and himself.


***


”Princess?” Officer Bradford blinked in confusion, “You mean to say we have a member of alien royalty in custody?”
Dr Vahlen nodded, “We have only X-014-1’s word for it, but that may well be the case. We really have no way to verify this information at present.”
There was a thoughtful silence for a moment, which Dr Shen broke. “Have we had any information, from interrogations or our psions, which suggests that the aliens have a royal caste?”
The head of research’s head shook this time. “None until now, which, alongside the numerous physiological differences we’ve observed…”
“Look at it this way, doctor,” Bradford said, moving the hand that had been holding his chin to cross his arms fully, “do we have any other connection between her and any other alien we’ve encountered?”
“Other than the timing of its appearance, no,” Dr Vahlen explained, “at this point we have to face the very real possibility that X-014-1 is not part of the alien collective we have been fighting.”
“Council policy is clear in that circumstance, doctor,” the officer explained, before quoting, “‘if an alien detainee cannot be proven to be hostile, an attempt at diplomatic contact must be made, and any following research involving the subject must have the subject’s consent.’ She’s already done that first part for us, and I’ve been watching over the combat analysis from her capture.” Bradford nodded to a nearby technician, and the screen nearest the trio changed to show the relevant footage. Bradford motioned to it as he continued, “Sparkle only fires one shot in the entire exchange, and waits to see that Captain Guseva is still alive before turning to engage the rest of the squad. Barring what happened to Captain Pimenova, I think it’s safe to say that Sparkle was acting non-harmfully.”
“Then perhaps we should try a different approach from now on,” Dr Shen spoke, “try to meet her as concerned people, rather than wary soldiers.”
“The upcoming interview should provide us with an opportunity to do so, especially since she asked for you specifically,” Dr Vahlen said with a gesture to the CO. He nodded, and the head of research glanced at her data slate. “I find it curious that she used two terms of equal standing to refer to both herself and her superior,” she added.
Officer Bradford glanced at the video again, watching Pimenova be lifted and thrown twenty feet by an invisible force, before speaking, “Let’s just hope this ‘Princess Celestia’ doesn’t show up to rescue her student.”
 
	
> 11:30, 25th February, 2016
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	1130, 25th February, 2016
The doors to Containment Chamber A3 slid open, and Dr Vahlen walked in, already tapping the details for the imminent experiment. Officer Bradford walked alongside her, and a handful of research staff followed them, along with two technicians carrying a table between them. The group dispersed upon reaching the control desk, the two chiefs of department stepping into the command space as the support staff assembled by the cell’s door.
“Officer Bradford, Doctor Vahlen,” the nearest of the two on-duty monitoring staff greeted them, “Good to see you again.”
“Doctor Vance,” Bradford replied, taking his ID tag from its place beneath his jersey and presenting it. 
Dr Vahlen absently flashed hers without removing it from her coat or taking her eyes away from her data slate. “We’re ready to begin testing immediately,” she explained, swiping her finger upwards on her tablet and looking up, “the opening statements for the research report have been sent to your station.”
The technician glanced at his terminal, nodded, and confirmed the start of the experiment. The CO and the doctor exited the control booth and walked to the group assembled at the cell door. The table and a pair of chairs had already been set up inside.
Also inside, of course, was Twilight Sparkle, currently lying on the floor of the cell, her head upright but her eyes closed. Her breathing was very slow. Dr Vahlen paused when she saw this, before questioning one of the assembled aides.
The scientist shrugged. “She was sat like that when we moved the table in, Ma’am, not sure how long before that.”
“The self-repair thing again?” Officer Bradford suggested.
The head of research shook her head. “My first discussion with X-” she paused to clear her throat, “Miss Sparkle this morning indicated that yesterday’s activity was her learning English from the idle chatter of the research staff. That does imply that she is biologically sound, which would then imply that extensive use of psionic powers on her part can cause her physical exhaustion, given Incident 00-1162.”
Bradford nodded, still frowning. “So, what’s she doing?”
Dr Vahlen didn’t get to respond, as Twilight opened her eyes and looked round at them. “Oh, sorry!” she apologised, “I didn’t hear you come in!”
“Good morning, Miss Sparkle,” Dr Vahlen greeted the alicorn. She still found the use of a proper name for an alien a little odd, but then it was hardly the most unusual thing about their guest from her perspective.
“Good morning, Doctor Vahlen,” Twilight replied, “and good to meet you, Officer Bradford.”
“You too, Miss Sparkle,” Bradford replied more naturally, “we’re ready to begin the interview, if you’d like?” He offered her the nearest chair with one hand.
Twilight knew it wasn’t really her decision, but she played along, trotting up to the chair and climbing into it while the two heads of department sat on the other side of the table. Truth be told, the chair didn’t fit her very well – the seat of it wasn’t quite big enough for both her posterior and front hooves, and she couldn’t shuffle backwards to make more room due to the upright back of it. Still, it was cushioned (a wonderful feeling after sleeping on a cold steel floor for a week), and she could rest her front hooves on the table, so no real problem.
“Experiment X-014-1-G, Diplomatic Interview, interview begins,” Dr Vahlen spoke clearly as she sat down. “To start, would you prefer Miss Sparkle, Princess, or-”
“Just Twilight is fine, thank you,” the alicorn interrupted, a little embarrassed, “The princess thing is more of a technicality than anything.” Dr Vahlen nodded, and made a note on her data slate, only for Twilight to continue; “Also, since I’m sure we both have a lot of questions for one another, could I suggest that we take this in turns? You ask one, and then I ask one?”
“That seems reasonable,” Officer Bradford said with a nod, “although some of our organisation’s affairs are classified information. Obviously we have to comply with our security policy when answering.”
“That’s fine,” Twilight replied, “I’ll let you go first, if you like.”
“Thank you, Twilight,” Doctor Vahlen replied first, “I’d like to start by asking about the revised introduction you gave this morning.” She placed her data slate in the middle of the table, the completed research report open and the relevant paragraph filling the screen. “You used a few words that aren’t technically English, notably here and here,” the head of research explained, pointed to the words ‘Celestia’ and ‘Equestria’, "and a word that, while technically English, doesn't make sense in the context you gave," she said, pointing to ‘alicorn’.
Twilight nodded. “For Celestia I just worked backwards from Celestial, meaning sky-based or heavenly. The proper word works fine in Equine, but it doesn’t sound like a name in English because it’s an adjective. And yes, the dual meaning of heavenly applies to her too,” the young alicorn added, “Princess Celestia is… well, at least a thousand years old, and has the duty and power to raise the sun each morning and set it at night. Her sister Princess Luna handles the moon, by the way.”
Officer Bradford frowned in concern, while Dr Vahlen’s eyebrows shot upwards. “That… I will ask about later. Though I can’t help but wonder why you didn’t use the existing name Celeste?”
Twilight blinked. “Huh. Apparently Sergeant Murray’s never heard that one before. Well, in any case Equestria is much the same, a new word based of the original English ‘equine.’
“As for this word,” Twilight pointed out ‘alicorn’ on the data slate, “this takes a little explaining. So, in Equestria, we have three types of ponies – unicorns, pegasus ponies, and earth ponies. That’s ponies associated with the earth and nature, by the way, not ponies from this planet. Unfortunately Sergeant Murray didn’t know a better distinction that I could use.
“Anyway,” Twilight continued as she waved a hoof dismissively, “there exists a fourth type of pony, like myself, that possess the abilities of all three races. Now, the naming for this is a little clunky, because it’s denoted by simply attaching the word ‘all’ to the front of any particular pony’s original race. So I’m an all-unicorn, whereas my sister-in-law Princess Cadance would be an all-pegasus, since she was originally a pegasus.”
“And now there are four of them,” Bradford muttered, not quite quietly enough, before sighing. 
Twilight heard, but didn’t respond. “However, in English it’s a little… messy, because your language is a little more drawn-out. Equine is fairly compressed by comparison, so I took the liberty of shortening the term to Alicorn. Though if it's already a word, I-”
“No need to change that," Dr Vahlen said with a shake of her head, "the word is little used as it is. But what of Princesses Celestia and Luna, how are they referred to?”
Twilight tapped a hoof to her chin. “Well, most of the time they’re referred to with a generic term – what would roughly translate to Alipony, although I’m sure I’ve read Celestia being referred to as having once been a pegasus somewhere… Anyway!” she grinned, “My turn to ask. How did I get here?”
The two XCOM personnel glanced at each other, before turning back to Twilight. “You mean you don’t know?” Officer Bradford asked.
Twilight shook her head. “As far as I know, I was walking to a friend’s house, started to feel sort of… thin. Stretched thin, like pastry trying to cover too much pie, or something. I started feeling light headed, got dizzy, and fell unconscious, and the next thing I know I’m waking up in a forest somewhere, surrounded by soldiers pointing weapons at me.” She placed her hooves flat on the table, “Anything you could tell me about the circumstances on my appearance would help out a lot.”
XCOM’s CO looked away in thought before replying, “We received an emergency report from the emergency services in Canada, about…” he checked his watch, and nodded, “almost exactly one week ago, as it happens. A lone hunter out in the forests – they stretch for hundreds of miles up there – was startled by you suddenly appearing within about thirty feet of him. From what he said, there was a loud cracking sound, and you were just there, curled up on a circle of scorched dirt.”
“Hmm,” Twilight tapped her chin again, “that sounds like a teleportation misfire, although that wouldn’t explain why I was unconscious. I wasn’t even using magic myself, either…”
“Well, according to the psion of the team we sent to recover you, you were putting out a lot of psionic energy before you woke up,” Bradford explained, “it was giving her one hell of a headache, her squad tell me.”
“That… could have been my magic acclimatising to the local standard. I’ve noticed magic works a little differently here. For a start, it’s apparently possible to attempt full-blown mind control with raw magic, judging by her actions.”
“Well, we’ve had some impressive results from the technique,” Dr Vahlen explained, “both from laboratory tests and action reports. Captain Pimenova especially has a good track record in terms of battlefield application of the ability.”
Twilight smiled. “I gave her a bit of a wake-up call when she tried it on me, then?”
“Not exactly,” Officer Bradford deadpanned, “She’s in a coma.”
The smile couldn’t have fallen from the alicorn’s face any faster. “Oh, Celestia, no,” she prayed, dread filling her voice, “is she going to recover?” Twilight suddenly sat bolt upright, her eyes wide and her pupils pinpricks. “Oh no, is Cameron-!”
“Sergeant Murray is perfectly fine, Twilight,” Dr Vahlen reassured the purple princess, “he has undergone two separate psychiatric evaluations following testing with you, and neither has shown any resultant mental trauma. Captain Pimenova’s condition is stable, although we are detecting a lot of unusual neural activity, almost as if her mind is actively-”
“Rearranging itself,” Twilight finished, lowering in her seat again, “trying to form connections to fragmented memories and knowledges. Either I accidentally erased some of her mindscape while trying to prevent her controlling me, or worse, I wrote something new in.”
Bradford raised an eyebrow. “A new memory would be worse?”
Twilight nodded. “If I wrote in some of my own knowledge, her mind will do anything to try and connect it to her memories, to make sense of it. Most knowledge is tied to the memory of learning it, and without that memory it starts trying to connect to anything relevant, which can cause problems. That’s what I was doing when you walked in, by the way,” Twilight added, “removing all of Sergeant Murray’s memories from my mind, and linking the knowledge I needed to keep into my own memories.”
“So that explains why you suggested learning English by that method last?” Dr Vahlen inquired.
Twilight shook her head, “No, I suggested that last out of respect for any subject’s privacy. It’s not really the done thing in Equestria, and I didn’t want to start a habit of doing it here. Even then, I had the safeguard that any memories of his that I temporarily acquired were tied to my memory of mindwalking with him,” Twilight’s voice became grave again, “which Captain Pimenova won’t have if she had any of my memories forced into her mind.”
“How bad could that be, exactly?” the head of research asked.
The alicorn grimaced. “Very bad. Her mind would have to try and make sense of the new memories by itself, since they won’t be automatically connected to her existing ones. In the best case, her subconscious will realise that the new memories don’t belong, and either erase them or store them in a separate connection. Worse than that, though, if I erased any of her existing memories at the same time, her mind might try to use my memories to fill in the blank spaces.”
“So she might wake up thinking she turned into a small purple unicorn for ten minutes a few years ago?” Bradford summarised.
“On the lower end of things, yes,” Twilight admitted, her voice hopeful, “and that could be fixed with simple re-education. If you were willing to use psionics, it could be resolved within a day. But,” the alicorn sighed, “I was using a lot of raw magic when I pushed her out. I couldn’t really begin to guess how much of her mind was damaged, or how many of my memories she has. She could wake up with the last eight years gone. She could wake up with nothing before last Tuesday. Worst of all, she could wake up thinking she’s me.”
There was silence at the table for a moment, which Dr Vahlen broke; “Could we possibly have a trained psion-”
“No!” Twilight shouted, before collecting herself, “Any mental contact now could interrupt her mind’s own self-repair! She might never wake up if that gets disturbed! Just…” the alicorn placed a hoof to her chest, and took a slow breath to calm herself, “Just give her time. If the mental activity you’ve witnessed is her mind starting the repair process, she’ll recover. She may not be entirely herself, but she’ll be alive, and awake. We can help her from there.”
Officer Bradford nodded appreciatively. “It’s good to know that you care about our soldiers’ wellbeing more than any of our other guests do. More than some of the soldiers, actually,” he smiled a little, before becoming serious again, “I believe it’s our turn to ask next. Doctor?” he offered, gesturing to his colleague.
Dr Vahlen nodded. “You’ve been making a distinction between your psionic abilities and those of our soldiers,” she explained, “referring to them with different terminology, after you had learned… a certain word.”
“Magic,” Twilight offered helpfully.
“…Yes. And yet before you learned that word, you referred to your own abilities as psionics, the same as we do, suggesting that they are similar enough as to be interchangeable,” Dr Vahlen said, scrolling the data slate’s screen to Twilight’s first introduction. “My question is, what is the distinction?”
Twilight nodded. “Okay, that question sort of has two answers. First of all, in Equestria magic is a real, metaphysical energy. It permeates and exists within all living creatures, no matter how big or small. It’s especially prevalent within ponies, as well as other magical creatures such as manticores, dragons and timberwolves.”
Dr Vahlen raised an eyebrow quizzically. “Dragons?”
“Yes, dragons,” Twilight replied nonchalantly, “It should start making sense in a minute. Now, magic as it exists within a creature is known a raw magic, a pure metaphysical energy that can be channelled into physical forces or energies by natural abilities or unique biology. A dragon’s fiery breath, a cockatrice’s petrifying gaze, an earth pony’s resilience and ties to nature, and a pegasus’ flight and cloud manipulation are all expressions of raw magic.”
“So you do use psionics to lift yourself,” Dr Vahlen noted, pointing at Twilight’s folded wings.
Twilight spread her wings to demonstrate them better. “Well, raw magic, yes, but the point is that it’s subconscious – none of the above, with the exception of perhaps the cloud manipulation, are things these creatures can actively decide to use or not use. A pegasus flaps their wings, and their raw magic will always empower the wing stroke.
“And then there’s unicorns,” Twilight continued, placing a hoof on her own chest, “along with a few of the more learned dragons and a handful of other creatures besides. We can channel our raw magic through our horns, and shape it into codified magic, which can have more varied effects. A dragon’s breath just converts raw magic into heat, for example, but a unicorn’s horn can turn raw magic into light, sound, movement of objects, creation of physical materials, manipulation of emotions, and more. It’s not more powerful, per se, but it opens up a lot more options. This is basically achieved by creating an array of raw magic conversions, such as heat, light, and sound, and letting them interact and amplify one another. It’s… difficult to fully explain,” Twilight frowned, “but that’s the basic idea.
“What I find interesting is that raw magic doesn’t seem to exist the same here,” the alicorn continued, “instead you have the metaphysical energy that you’ve termed psionics. Just from a preliminary study, I’ve been able to deduce that instead of being tied to life energy like raw magic, psionic energy is tied to emotional energy. That doesn’t actually mean that stronger feelings of emotion make for a better psion, by the way, but it does raise two interesting points – one, psionic energy can only exist within a sentient creature capable of feeling emotion on an advanced level, and two, psionic energy has more uses than raw magic, because it can be shaped by sheer willpower. This explains why your psions are able to achieve such results with little to no formal training.
“What really interests me, however, is that the distinction seems to stop there,” Twilight began to bring her lesson to a close, “I’m perfectly capable of channeling my own psionic energy into codified magic the same as I would raw magic. The main limit I’d experience doing so is that I can’t take psionic energy from my allies or surroundings; although I can still make use of psionic energy willingly offered by other psions, that same as your own soldiers can. Psi Inspiration, Sergeant Murray called it, I think?”
Dr Vahlen glanced at the handful of scientists sat along one edge of the cell, all taking notes with furious speed. “We haven’t seen any example of the… ‘formalisation’ of psionics you’ve been describing,” the head researcher spoke, “but I suppose it theoretically could be possible. Specimens of X-013-A and a handful of our stronger soldiers are capable of projecting psionic energy as a tangible physical force – from what you’ve said, this psionic energy could be used to create other physical energies, and then combined to have alternate effects, correct?”
“That’s correct,” Twilight hesitantly replied, “but I’m not sure whether humans could learn codified magic. A unicorn’s horn contains a specialised neural structure that humans may well lack, though I couldn’t begin to explain how it actually works, sorry.”
“Well,” Dr Vahlen admitted, “we’ve only very recently begun to understand much about how our own minds operate, and mostly from recovered data on our enemy’s… less ethical research into the subject, let’s say.”
Twilight grimaced, but nodded. Though she had already removed the specifics of the memory, Sgt Murray had been present on one of the alien base assaults XCOM had undertaken – the alicorn understood a small fraction of the horrors the aliens had committed in the name of science. “Okay, so I’ve already explained that psionics is different from raw magic, and you’ve explained that I appeared in what seemed to be a teleportation accident,” the alicorn summarised, “so my next question is, do you or the aliens you’ve been fighting have access to any dimensional travel technologies or powers?”
Dr Vahlen glanced at Officer Bradford, who simply nodded at her in response. “Yes,” the head of research answered, “the aliens seem to have an advanced communications system that operates by transmitting data through a spatially compressed sub-dimension. Reports from our final assault on the alien capital ship also suggest that they were teleporting in more combat troops during the battle, rather than waiting for them to arrive by foot.”
Twilight smiled. “Well, that helps. There’s a good chance that my being here is a result of one of those two technologies, or a combination thereof.”
“You’re saying that you believe the aliens might have summoned you here?” Officer Bradford queried, frowning. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Twilight replied, “but Sergeant Murray believed that they were searching for powerful psionic entities. I’m certainly one of those, aside from being able to codify magic properly, but…”
“But then why were you in the middle of Canada and not on an alien ship?” Bradford finished for her. Twilight simply nodded in response.
“We aren’t likely to see any more developments on these technologies any time soon,” Dr Vahlen explained, “though my team will look into the possibilities. I take it you believe you may have travelled between universes, rather than simply across a long distance?”
Twilight smiled. “Exactly. Magic should still behave the same regardless of how far you go, in the same way as the laws of physics are always a constant. It operating differently here very heavily implies that this is a different universe,” she explained. “Now, I’ve had a little experience with alternate universes before, but that time I had a clear way home throughout my stay.”
Dr Vahlen blinked. “You’ve explored other realities before?”
Twilight nodded, and frowned a little. “Okay, this is basically going to be a whole chapter of my life. Do you mind if I take that as one of your questions?” Both humans agreed, and Twilight began to explain, “I’m not Princess Celestia’s first personal student. Before me, there was a unicorn named Sunset Shimmer…”


***


1145, 25th February, 2016
“Wait, wait, hold up,” Lt Cunningham laughed, “‘Twilight Sparkle’? What kind of a name is that?”
Sgt Murray shrugged. “Flying psionic unicorn, Yeti,” he explained simply, “Don’t ask me why she’s named what she’s named.” He stuck another forkful of roast potato into his mouth.
“Yeah, but, ‘Twilight Sparkle’? Where do you even begin with a name like that?” the heavy asked, still chuckling.
Sgt Lefevre finished chewing, swallowed, and spoke, “So, if she turns out really sarcastic and so on, you know?” He grinned. “‘Twilight Snarkle.’”
“Oh man, that the best you got?” Cunningham asked.
“Well, I don’t see you coming up with better,” the Frenchman replied.
Cunningham nodded, thinking, before a broad grin broke across his features. “Here, get this; so if she turns out to be really sneaky and stealthy? ‘Spylight Sparkle.’”
“Okay, I think our squad just hit a new low,” Sgt Marquez put his fork down, “And I still don’t get why we call Bakker ‘Congo’.” 
The whole table turned to look at Captain Bakker, who thought for a moment before replying.
“‘Shylight Darkle’. Because she’s got violet hair, right?”
The whole squad groaned.


***


1147, 25th February, 2016
“…and then I brought the Element of Magic, Spike and myself back to Equestria, leaving Sunset in my Canterlot High friends’ care.” Twilight finished explaining.
“That…” Dr Vahlen began, unsure what to make on the alicorn’s tale of alternate universes, overly colourful humans, high school politics, and friendship-powered demon purging. She glanced at Officer Bradford, only to find him sat back in his chair with his arms folded, a look of utter bewilderment on his face.
“I admit,” Twilight said, looking a little embarrassed, “probably the second weirdest experience of my life.”
“Yes, well,” Dr Vahlen shook her head to clear her thoughts, “this does raise a number of questions regarding inter-dimensional travel. I understand that your world has the means to create such a portal, but how did a… civilisation,” she hesitated to call a species that the alicorn had described with such broad skin tones and lithe figures ‘human’, “with a technology level only comparable to ourselves - and no psionic potential - make a portal to link to the one in Equestria?”
Twilight sighed. “I don’t know. I’d have gone through the portal again to try and study it, but it only opens every thirty moons. And, again, I don’t know why that is either,” she said, answering the question Dr Vahlen was about to ask. “With the Mirror Portal all the way in the Crystal Empire, I can’t exactly study it at my leisure.”
“Well…” Dr Vahlen wracked her brains for something else to say, “at least we know that material travel between dimensions is not only possible, but controllable. That may become important to our own efforts.”
“It’s very important to mine,” Twilight pointed out, “I want to go home at some point.”
Bradford frowned for a moment, but then nodded. “Very well, feel free to ask your next question.”
“Okay,” Twilight said, “this alien invasion you’ve just undergone. Sergeant Murray understood the basic premise, and the global scale of things, but not their intention. Do you know why the aliens invaded, exactly?”
XCOM’s CO shook his head, “In short, no. We think they were testing us, according to transmissions from Strike One during the capital ship assault,” he explained. “Colonel Taylor, who had already used an alien device to contact the Ethereals, kept receiving psionic messages from their leader throughout the mission. Apparently they needed psionic warriors for some purpose, strong in both mental and physical combat.”
“It’s a shame we couldn’t recover the leader captive,” Dr Vahlen added, “that way we could have some clearer answers.”
Twilight frowned. “Have you asked Colonel Taylor about this?”
All assembled XCOM personnel went silent for a moment. Bradford was the first to speak again. “Taylor didn’t make it back from the mission, Miss Sparkle,” he said gravely.
Twilight's shoulders and wings drooped as the reality of the alien war hit her again. "Oh..."
“Following the alien leader’s death, the capital ship began to collapse in on itself, much like a dying star collapses into a black hole,” Dr Vahlen continued. “Strike One were ordered to evacuate, but Colonel Taylor refused, instead taking control of another alien device, and through it, the whole ship. The ship began moving upward, away from the planet, and shortly detonated. Much of the debris was disintegrated upon re-entering the atmosphere, along with… any personnel on board.”
“The strongest, bravest, most determined soldier XCOM had, in exchange for the entire Earth,” Bradford nodded solemnly, “Taylor’s sacrifice, as well as those of the other forty-two men with their names on the memorial wall, will never be forgotten.” There was a short, respectful silence, before the CO shrugged. “So, given how the Ethereals perform tests, be glad you only had to face the doctor here,” he smiled.
Dr Vahlen fixed Bradford with a hard stare as Twilight giggled. “Yes, very funny. Now, Twilight, I couldn’t help but wonder; you’re a princess, but you work for another princess?”
“Well, yes,” Twilight replied, “Princess Celestia is, in function, more like our queen than a princess, but she uses Princess to prevent her from being thought of more highly than her sister, Princess Luna. It’s been more like a diarchy than a monarchy since her return, although she had to be brought up to speed on all the social developments of the last thousand years first,” Twilight said with a tired smile.
Officer Bradford blinked. “Where did she go for a millenia?”
Twilight’s smile faltered a little, but she pressed on. “Okay, so about fifty years after Celestia and Luna first came to power…”


***


1151, 25th February, 2016
Dr Shen looked over the design before him, before looking over his glasses at the eager man in the lab coat before him.
“No, Hal,” the chief engineer spoke tiredly, before turning and walking toward the door.
“But Ray!” the younger man protested, “The efficiency of the design is a whole quarter higher than last time! With even small amounts of the Meld substance-!”
“I said no, Hal,” Dr Shen spoke again, “I can’t condone the use of our technology in this way. Your intentions are noble, but I just don’t see this,” he gestured to the blueprint on the desk, “as the solution to our problem.”
“But Dr Shen,” the scientist spoke pleadingly, straightening his own narrow glasses, “We have over twenty men out of duty! And given the Meld’s status as a cybernetic nanomachine…”
“This is the one line that the aliens crossed and we have not, Dr Emmerich,” Dr Shen replied, “that I consider the most dangerous. Psionics happens to be a latent part of our physiology, I accept that. Dr Vahlen’s genetic modification of our soldiers I can abide, given that it can be reversed. But this?” He shook his head.
“You’re refusing to help our own wounded soldiers,” Hal pointed out.
Dr Shen shrugged. “I’m refusing to condemn them to be changed, permanently changed, into war machines. Our empathy for one another is what got us through this war, Hal. I won’t be responsible for casting it aside.”


***


1158, 25th February, 2016
“…and she’s been helping rule Equestria again ever since,” Twilight finished speaking.
“You really like making friends with your enemies, don’t you?” Officer Bradford said with a smile.
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Yes, I do, even if sometimes I’d really rather not.” Bradford lifted one eyebrow, but said nothing.
Dr Vahlen, however, did speak. “These ‘Elements of Harmony’,” she began, “do they function as energy reservoirs, or…?”
“Sort of,” Twilight replied, “They contain a pool of raw magic, a very powerful one at that, along with a pre-set spell array that can reflexively adapt to harmonize whatever it’s called to act on. I’m not sure exactly how they determine what effect they ought to be producing,” she admitted, “but regardless, they can’t operate on their own. Each needs to be carried by a pony who, in some way, embodies the virtue that the Element is aligned with. Once all of them are worn by such a pony, whoever has the Element of Magic can activate them, causing the spell array within each Element to draw from the wearer’s own raw magic, as well as that of the Element.”
“So, they can’t be fired without being worn?” Bradford asked, “You need six people regardless?”
“Yes,” Twilight confirmed, “So if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, no, you couldn’t mount any of them on a SHIV.” She giggled at the thought of a boxy combat drone being fitted with a magic necklace.
The CO didn’t join in her laughter. “Well, if they somehow turn up here, I could think of some potential candidates to carry most of them. Magic would be a bit of an issue, but you’d probably want to handle that.”
Twilight frowned. “If that did happen, I think we’d need to test if only confirmed psions can use them. Every sentient mind has psionic potential, but not all of you are able to realise it, whereas every pegasus and earth pony can utilise their raw magic. Hmm,” she nodded, making a mental note to do so if the Elements showed up.
“You mentioned alternate effects of firing them?” Dr Vahlen prompted.
Twilight nodded and replied, “Yes, such as in Luna’s case they un-Nightmared her, whereas for Discord they petrified him. Twice, actually.”
The doctor frowned quizzically. “Discord?” she asked.
Twilight sighed. “Well, alright,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “back before Celestia and Luna came to power…”


***


1201, 25th February, 2016
With the soft click of a door opening, Jacob Jenkins entered his boss’ office. “You, err, wanted to see me, sir?” he asked nervously.
The bald head of his boss slowly lifted upward. “Ah, Jenkins,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, “close the door behind you, please.”
The junior accountant did so, gently pushing the solid oak panelling until the soft click was heard again. At the push of a concealed button under the polished walnut desk, a half-dozen three-inch bolts locked the door with a muffled clunk.
“Take a seat, please,” the executive offered, gesturing to a small steel and black leather chair opposite the desk from him, far smaller and less grandiose than his own full-height, cushioned oak furniture.
Jenkins anxiously walked to the chair, his polished shoes not daring to make a mark on the cream carpet covering the floor. He gripped the arms of the chair with white knuckles as he sat down.
The executive smiled. “Left arm, Jenkins,” he said, while raising his own and gripping the cuff of his sleeve.
Jenkins mimicked the action, and both men revealed their forearms, displaying a dark tattoo of circles and lines that ran up the inside of each man’s forearm.
“What is my duty, sir?” Jenkins asked, all hint of his former anxiety vanished. The act served him well, but now was not the time.
The executive smiled. “We have made contact, Jenkins,” he replied, knowing the name was false but using it regardless, “and we need a spokesman. You have always struck me as a man who can be readily relied on, when necessary.”
“What’s our stance, sir?” Jenkins asked as he nodded.
“They are desperate,” the executive explained, “as you would expect. We, meanwhile, are asking for comparatively little for assisting them. That is important, remember; we are assisting them, not the other way around. Certainly, we will need to… make sacrifices, to maintain that delusion, but we can stall no longer. Should you be successful, there will be ample reward for you, of course.”
“Yes sir,” Jenkins said, sitting up a little straighter. “Who is my contact?”
“He did not leave a name,” the executive replied, “just a place, and a time. Be there.”


***


1207, 25th February, 2016
“…and he’s been ‘reformed’ ever since,” Twilight said through gritted teeth.
“You don’t believe that?” Dr Vahlen asked.
Twilight gave her a flat look. “Well, he’s been a little more restrained since then, I suppose,” she admitted, “but considering what he did to me, to my friends…” she lowered her head and huffed.
“I’m sure anyone would have a hard time forgiving him,” Officer Bradford agreed. 
“This ‘Chaos magic’ of his, is that a unique means of using his raw magic, or the same as yours, merely used more… haphazardly?” Dr Vahlen asked.
Twilight lifted her head and puzzled the thought over for a second. “Well, his magic was unaffected by my failsafe spell,” she reasoned, “but I don’t think it’s too different – I’d be able to make a more reliable one if he’d stay still long enough to let me.”
“Failsafe spell?” the head of research pressed.
Twilight nodded and grinned. “So, you’ve probably worked out that psionics can be modelled as a wave?”
“Yes, although variances in the wave don’t appear to have any effect on certain properties of the psionic power being used,” Dr Vahlen noted.
“That’s due to the metaphysical duality,” Twilight explained, “similar to wave-particle duality in light, only… not a particle. It’s complicated, but the psionic wave sort of carries the intent of the psion. Now,” she set her hooves before her on the table, and gestured with them to aid her explanation, “you already know that magic is comprised of multiple psionic waves artificially amplifying each other, right? What do you think happens if you introduce a psionic wave of equal power and frequency, at a one hundred and eighty degree difference to a psionic wave?”
“Well, naturally the two would cancel each other out,” Dr Vahlen surmised, “Although in practice-”
“In a pure psionic battle the force of will of each psion overrides the wave properties, yes,” Twilight pre-emptively agreed. “But when using magic, the intent is split between the waves equally, so they’re more vulnerable to being countered. If you introduce a counter-wave to the higher amplitude waves in the array, you can cause the whole spell to fail for much less effort than it took for your opponent to cast the spell. It’s difficult to do reactively, but general-purpose failsafe spells exist to counter some of the more common magical frequencies. Similarly, most defensive spells are built on less-commonly used frequencies, so that whoever you’re up against can’t bring down your defences with the first spell they ever learned.”
“Extraordinary,” Dr Vahlen said, her mind already whirring with the possibilities, “would it be possible to generate counter-waves artificially?”
“If you have a means of artificially creating psionic abilities already, then yes,” Twilight agreed, “but since psionic power is tied to sentience, whatever device you use has to be at least artificially self-aware.”
“That, and we haven’t encountered any aliens with actual magic, doctor,” Officer Bradford pointed out, “I doubt we could justify the expense of creating such a system, especially if it won’t protect against regular psionic attacks.”
Dr Vahlen sighed. “Well, at least if the problem arises we have some initial idea of how to properly react. Anyway, you mentioned a ‘Crystal Empire’ earlier, what-”
“No! No no no no!” Twilight said, doing her best bossy voice and holding up a hoof to silence the doctor. It didn’t hide the playful smile on her face, however. “I just answered two of your questions in a row, so I think I’m entitled to at least one of mine.” 
Dr Vahlen frowned at the alicorn, before looking at Officer Bradford, who shrugged. “We did agree to those terms,” he reminded her.
Twilight’s smile broadened into a grin. “Okay, so now that we’re all back on the same page, Meld and Elerium. What are they?” she asked.
“Meld is a crystalline suspension of cybernetic nanomachines,” Dr Vahlen explained, “which, when thawed and programmed correctly, are incredibly useful in the bonding of separate bodies of flesh, as well as the rewriting of cellular DNA. Using Meld, we’ve managed to create a successful genetic modification program, which modifies soldiers who volunteer to better survive the rigours of battle. Our early attempts were focused on improving existing human physiology, but with continued study of the aliens, we have trialled some augmentations that incorporate alien DNA and body structures.”
Twilight nodded slowly. “Okay, I’m… not sure I got all of that, if I’m honest,” she explained, “biology isn’t one of my strong subjects, but it sounds like you use it to graft alien bits onto your soldiers?”
“Well, into more than onto,” Dr Vahlen admitted, “and even then they tend to be fairly minor modifications. For example, study of the X-008, commonly called a ‘Cyberdisk’, led us to the technology to implant a secondary heart into our soldiers without compromising their ability to breathe.”
“That certainly sounds like quite an achievement,” Twilight agreed, “but would you mind if I opt out?”
“Certainly,” the doctor replied, “soldiers are chosen for genetic augmentation on a strictly voluntary basis, and we would need to map your full genome before we could even begin to program the Meld.
“As for Elerium,” Dr Vahlen continued, “it’s a given name for a compound matter consisting primarily of Element 115, which is as yet unnamed, and various stabilising molecules, such as carbon. The exact balance of the compound varies depending on the purpose for which the Elerium will be used, but in short it undergoes radioactive decay at an astonishing rate, yet we theorise that it can somehow be re-energised to its pre-decayed state using slightly less energy than it gives off while decaying. Now, that would require an almost perfectly efficient system for harnessing the radioactive energy given off for the obvious effect to be capitalised on, but the aliens have managed to create a variety of systems that perform admirably, functionally giving them either an extremely high-density power store, or a non-depleting energy source, dependant on configuration.”
“…Wow,” Twilight eventually managed. “That would open up a lot of options for improving Equestria’s infrastructure, if it could be harnessed properly.”
Officer Bradford nodded. “The aliens made a few strafing runs on power plants in India in mid-July,” he explained, “trying to make the whole country go dark. We got an emergency request from the council, created an alibi, and shipped a pair of UFO power sources out to them. India now has a multi-million dollar high-capacity ‘nuclear’ power plant that supplies energy to more than a quarter of the country. It’s just a brick building with a power unit smaller than this cell sat in the middle.”
Twilight’s jaw hung loose for a moment, before she closed it again. “…I-is it clean?” she stammered out.
Dr Vahlen nodded. “Assuming you can prevent excessive radiation loss to the surroundings, which most of the alien devices manage automatically, it produces no actual waste.”
“I’m sure if we end up making contact with Equestria, we could spare one or two,” Bradford smiled slightly. “Call it a diplomatic gift.”
The young princess’ face gradually lit up as she struggled to contain her excitement. “Okay, okay, calm, need to stay calm,” she said, taking a few deep breaths, “it’s just that we’re about on the verge of having proper industrialisation like you underwent hundreds of years ago, but Princess Celestia won’t consider any system that has long-term environmental drawbacks. We seriously only have three hydroelectric dams, and two of those serve just one city. Mane-something, I’ll work that out later. There’s a royal decree preventing the use of coal in stationary power plants, and we haven’t really discovered the potential of oil like you have yet but I’m sure she won’t like that either.”
“Try biofuel crops,” the CO recommended, “Dr Shen likes those.”
Twilight nodded, made a note to research that later, and continued. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure that all answered my question. So, the Crystal Empire?” Dr Vahlen nodded. “Well, a little over a thousand years ago…”


***


1221, 25th February, 2016
Your progress has been admirable, the Ethereal stated as it floated alongside its charge, enough so that the other troops are emboldened by your presence.
The Found One looked around the bridge of the battleship critically. They don’t seem very bold, it commented.
These are grave times, the Ethereal excused the timidity of the surrounding Sectoids, and we have little reason to celebrate. Our foe grows ever stronger, but an opportunity presents itself.
Curiosity flowed from the Found One’s mind. Opportunity?
A fractured front, our enemy presents. Some among them have defected, and wish for our aid once more.
I thought you said these beasts were without redemption? the Found One was concerned.
Perhaps we have been too hasty in our judgement, the Ethereal motioned. Perhaps they were mistaken, as you were…
The Found One set its brows into a frown. I have done much that is wrong with my life, it admitted, but the betrayal these creatures performed is far beyond that. Do you really trust them?
The Ethereal took scarcely a moment to think. No, no it did not, but that was not the answer the Found One would respond best to. We hold true to our belief, that any can make better of themselves,  it intoned.
The Found One’s head hung low. I have hurt those close to me. I have terrorised those I barely know. I have attacked those who sought to save me. The head raised again. How might I save myself?
The Ethereal allowed itself to be pleased. We still do not understand our enemy, and a diversion is needed.
The Found One nodded. I will not fail you, it promised.


***


1228, 25th February, 2016
“…and so we restored the Heart to its proper place, celebrated in the Crystal Faire, and were on our way back to Equestria two days later,” Twilight finished.
“So Princess Cadance does control her own nation, then,” Dr Vahlen surmised.
“Which means the only princess without a people…” Officer Bradford raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, yes,” Twilight waved a hoof dismissively, “I’m more like Duchess of Ponyville or something. At least I do something that helps people, unlike Blueblood. Celestia’s nephew, not Luna’s son, most recent heir to the throne of the ancient and no longer existent kingdom of …Unicornia, let’s call it, from before Equestria’s formation, Celestia officially adopted the entire lineage as a diplomatic move when she came into power,” Twilight quickly answered all the obvious questions.
“The princess’ power must be incredible, though, to project a shield over an entire city for such a long time,” Dr Vahlen said, the interest in her voice unmistakable.
Twilight nodded. “True, but you should’ve seen the one my brother put over Canterlot when Queen Chrysalis threatened to attack. Roughly the same size, but he kept it there for nearly a week. Both were less their own personal power and more having a large number of ponies to tap for more raw magic, the crystal ponies and royal guard respectively.”
Bradford cleared his throat. “Queen Chrysalis?” he prompted, before adding, “or did you want to ask-”
“No, don’t worry,” Twilight shook her head, “this one’s actually fairly brief. Equestria has these creatures called changelings, which are roughly the size of a pony, and can shapeshift to look like them. They cause ponies to form emotional attachments to them, or replace ponies who already have a significant other, and then use the emotional link to draw raw magic from the other pony, which they sustain themselves on. Celestia’s known about them for a few decades, but by and large they haven’t been a terrible nuisance, and the ones who invent entirely new persons to disguise themselves as she leaves alone.
“Recently, though, Queen Chrysalis organised a few thousand of them together and tried to take Canterlot. She made an anonymous written threat against Equestria, which was responded to by my brother, Shining Armour, projecting a shield over the city. Not to be outdone, she snuck in, kidnapped and replaced Cadance, and started draining Shining Armour’s magic through his love for her to bring the shield down. Along the way, she managed to insult all of my friends and generally act like a self-entitled parasite, and somehow nobody but me noticed, instead attributing her behaviour to pre-wedding stress!” Twilight was nearly shouting by the time she finished.
Officer Bradford held up a hand. “Do you need a moment?” he asked, concerned.
Twilight shook her head again. “I’m not bitter,” she said defensively, but took a deep breath to calm herself anyway. “She captured and sent me down into the makeshift dungeon she had set up, I found the real Cadance, we broke out and got to the wedding, and Chrysalis revealed herself and her entire plan in response. Celestia tried to intervene, but Chrysalis overpowered her using Shining’s raw magic, before breaking the city shield and letting her army of changelings in. My friends and I made a run for the Elements of Harmony, but were captured and brought back to the wedding hall, where Chrysalis continued gloating and taunting. So much so, in fact, that I managed to free Cadance and let her go to revive Shining entirely unhindered. Cadance gives Shining all her spare power, and together they re-cast the shield, pushing all the changelings out of the city. After that, Chrysalis and her swarm just disappeared.”
Officer Bradford frowned. “Wait, she overpowered the person who moves the sun using the magic of your brother who’s just good at shield spells?”
Twilight nodded. “Well, she caught Celestia off-guard by matching her initial attack, and like I said earlier, counter-casting reflexively is hard to do right – if Celestia over-compensated, she could have torched everyone in the room,” she explained. “Chrysalis herself was surprised that it worked.”
“Surprised?” Bradford asked, a note of confusion in his voice, “she made a plan that would put her right next to Celestia, and then revealed herself without actually knowing she could beat Celestia?”
There was a brief pause as XCOM’s Central Officer, the man responsible for overseeing every tactical mission a worldwide military organisation undertook, lowered his face into one hand. “Why not have the changelings shapeshift and sneak inside the shield like she did? Why not not warn of the attack and therefore not have a shield to contend with?” He sat up and leaned back in his chair, glaring at the ceiling light. “Who put this woman in charge?”
“Yeah, not Equestria’s proudest moment, letting her get that far,” Twilight admitted sheepishly, “Celestia was pretty torn up over that later, but I managed to talk her out of it. And hey, at least we all learned our lesson.”
“Which was?” Dr Vahlen asked.
Twilight mused for a moment. “Well, Cadance using the Crystal Heart on Sombra did flat-out make him explode. I don’t know how much control she had over that, but…”
Bradford shrugged. “Good lesson, well learned,” he voiced his opinion, before shaking his head. “Well, your turn to ask us something.”
Twilight thought for a moment. “Okay, I’ve cleared my mental list of things I needed to know, so I don’t have a lot left to ask, just things to ask for.”
Officer Bradford nodded, and cleared his throat. “I believe we can make some arrangements in that regard,” he said. “Miss Sparkle, it’s come to our attention that you, and your friends in Equestria, can do a lot of things with your magic that our psionic soldiers can’t. Things that it would be very beneficial for them to be able to do.” He placed both hands flat on the table as he spoke, “with your permission, we’d like to run some tests of a different kind, to see if there’s anything they can learn from you.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” she replied hesitantly, “what sort of tests did you have in mind?”
“It seems sensible to first assess what abilities you would consider practical to use on the battlefield,” Dr Vahlen explained, “both in terms of usability and power usage. To this end, we’d like to put you through a combat training course, under various levels of psionic inhibition to better mimic the capabilities of a less-powerful soldier.”
“We’d be extremely grateful if you could assist us in increasing our troops’ survivability, of course,” Bradford suggested.
Twilight looked first between the two humans, then around the featureless cell she had spent the last week inside, then out of the large window at the various guards outside. “Well,” she said with a grin, “I’d appreciate some better accommodations, for a start.”
“That can be easily done,” Bradford replied, “there are plenty of spare rooms in the barracks, and the guards aren’t necessary now that we’re on speaking terms. There’s still a policy regarding psionic aliens within the base which doesn’t specify hostile aliens only, so until we get that changed your magic would have to stay suppressed, but otherwise you’d mostly have the same privileges as any XCOM employee.”
Twilight frowned. “Wait, how are you going to keep my magic suppressed if I’m free to move about? I thought-”
“We’ve actually managed to find a solution to that problem recently,” Dr Vahlen interrupted, “with the opportunity to test the concept on yourself this last week, as well as an exception to the field surrounding the altered psi suit Sergeant Murray has been using for testing, we’ve been able to manufacture a working prototype of a psionic inhibitor device.” She tapped an icon on her data slate, and a diagram of a full-body soft suit filled the screen. “Our current design is worn more like clothing, but knowing that your psionic – and magical, I suppose – power is concentrated around your horn, we should be able to create a smaller device that fits more closely around it.”
Twilight mused for a moment. Equestria had a similar device, an antimagic ring to be worn around the horn by criminal or… unstable unicorns. Dr Vahlen’s device was unlikely to be as elegant as a slim band of enchanted gold, but it would at least let her get out of this cell. “That all sounds good,” she replied, “so second condition, and forgive me if I sound distrustful but I only have your side of the story regarding this war.” The young alicorn shuffled nervously in her seat as she asked, “would it be possible for me to speak to one of the other aliens you’re keeping captive, to get their point of view as well as confirm everything you’ve told me about them?”
Officer Bradford frowned, but Dr Vahlen nodded. “That shouldn’t be hard to arrange. We have a number of X-002 captives that have been pacified. They present no physical or psionic threat, and most are fully capable of speaking English. Although,” she added, “do feel free to question them more… directly, if they attempt to be evasive in their answers.” She knew full well that they would, of course – Thin Men were designed for infiltration, and that required them to stay secretive and not crack under pressure.
XCOM’s CO turned to face her. “Don’t you think the Council would object to letting a diplomatic contact talk to a hostile alien?” he asked.
Dr Vahlen mused for a moment. “The Council have never interfered in XCOM’s running before, but I agree it wouldn’t be sensible to provoke them. I’ll have Twilight’s discussion with one recorded as a cross-examination experiment to verify her non-hostility. After all,” the head of research explained, “if X-014-1 were to attempt to break containment, surely the opportune moment would be when another alien is present to support it. If you’ll excuse me,” she said while standing, “I’ll begin organising the experiment now.” With that, she turned and walked calmly out of the cell.
Bradford and Twilight sat in silence for a moment, before breaking it as one.
“Was that-” Bradford stalled.
“Did she-” Twilight stammered.
“Sarcasm?” one of the research aides asked, drawing the confused attention of both speakers, “Yeah, the doctor does that occasionally. Kinda surprised you’ve never seen it though, sir,” he nodded to Bradford.
Bradford turned back to Twilight and shrugged. “Well, is there anything you’d like to ask before we close the interview, Miss Sparkle?”
“Just one thing,” Twilight replied, “what should I be expecting from this combat training?”
Central Officer Bradford thought for a moment, chose his words, and began to explain. “Does Equestria have a game called ‘laser tag’?”
	
> 17:30, 25th February, 2016 - Divining and Decision Making
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	1730, 25th February, 2016
Twilight lay on her back, kicking her legs in the air idly. The biggest problem with having learnt English from Sgt Murray was that now she had nothing left to do while she waited. No books, no conversation, nothing.
She spread her wings wide across the floor, arching her back and feeling the invigorating stretch in her joints for what had to be at least the tenth time today. Why it was against protocol to converse with a neutral alien via the loudspeakers and recording equipment already installed in her cell, she couldn’t work out. The sheer loneliness made it tempting to skip getting the invaders’ story and just start helping XCOM, if only to stop being so incredibly bored.
Twilight slumped to the ground with a huff, frowning up at the glaring ceiling light. That might be the whole point, actually. Not very moral of them if so.
Her ears twitched as Chamber 3A’s door swished open. At last! She curved her back first left, then right, extending her front hoof forward and rear hoof backward, first on the right side and then the left for maximum stretch. She had at least thirty seconds before anyone was ready to enter the cell, so she might as well be ready for them.
The alicorn tilted her head upwards – or backwards, depending on how you looked at it – to study the entrants as one of them started going through security protocols. Same singular scientist, different two guards in the same blue-grey armoured uniforms, carrying the same boxy weapons which she now understood were X-9 ballistic assault rifles.
Given who the two men were guarding, their weapons were certainly loaded. A tall, slim man, with greasy combed-over black hair and pale skin, walked before the two of them. He was dressed in a blue suit, black shoes, and small, dark glasses, which fitted him better than his own skin judging by his stiff movements. Twilight also noted the rough, scaly texture of his skin just above his collar. An alien.
She rolled over onto her belly and then sat up as the man – which she felt she would probably remember from seeing Sgt Murray’s memories if she hadn’t deleted them all – was walked to the door to her cell. This time, it opened before its entrant reached that point, and the man turned and walked straight inside.
The two Arc Rifle-wielding guards stepped in after him, and took up positions to either side of the entryway, standing motionless. The door swiftly slid shut, which the man half-turned to regard, his movements slow and precise. Looking back into the room, his bespectacled gaze settled on the purple pony. One eyebrow was raised slightly, merely curious rather than perplexed. The man took a few steps towards her, his stride shortened by shackles around his ankles, before coming to a stop about six feet away from her. His arms were held behind the small of his back. He said nothing.
“Hello,” Twilight offered, raising a hoof in a brisk wave. She was sat not quite in the centre of the room, and watching the man with a hopeful smile on her face. “My name’s Twilight Sparkle.”
The man made no immediate reaction. “Greetings,” he finally spoke, his voice flat and lifeless. “I understand that I am to help you make a decision of allegiance?”
Twilight hummed in thought. “You could put it like that,” she replied, “because I have XCOM’s views of the war, but they’re unaware if there was anything larger at stake. I’d just like to ask you some questions, but before that,” the alicorn explained, before raising a hoof to shake. “Twilight Sparkle,” she offered again.
The man moved its arms out to one side, demonstrating the bindings around it wrists to match the ones around its legs. “Greetings,” he replied.
Twilight lowered the hoof and frowned as she realised that her interviewee was going to be uncooperative; the handcuffs couldn't be helped, but he could have given a name. “Well, let’s get started,” she decided. “We might as well start with the most obvious, so first of all, do you know what the purpose of your invasion was?”
The man’s face remained expressionless. “Yes,” he tersely replied.
Twilight’s frown deepened. “And that purpose was…?” she asked.
The man gave her a distasteful look before replying, “Our mission was to abduct select human populations with the goal of discovering the Gift among their number.”
Twilight smiled. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” she said, before continuing, “So, do you know why your collective needed ‘Gifted’ humans?”
“No,” the man replied.
Twilight lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” she asked.
“Our leaders do not share the finer details of their plans with us,” the man explained simply, “we simply do what we are ordered to.”
“And who are these leaders?” the alicorn pushed.
The man sniffed once. “I don’t need to answer that,” he defended. Twilight moved to say something, but he rolled his eyes and interrupted, “Your friends have one of our leaders captive already. No doubt they are performing some unspeakable horror on them as we speak.”
Twilight frowned and leaned away from the man a little. “What do you mean by that?” she asked.
The man’s eyebrow lifted. “Surely you’ve been the subject of their experimentation?” he asked.
Twilight nodded, before replying, “Yes, but… Well, they were mostly-”
“You’re not even sure what they did to you,” he surmised, before turning to look out of the wide window on the cell, “now that is horrifying. Have you checked yourself over for implants? Incisions?”
Twilight frowned. “Wait a second, psionic stress-testing isn’t exactly nice, but involuntary surgery is a bit beyond-”
“They operated on all of us,” the man interjected, turning back to her, “it would be foolish to think they treated you any differently.”
Doubt crept into Twilight’s heart. “N-no, they… With the concern they showed to Captain Pimenova…”
The man sneered. “That is how they treat their own, Miss Sparkle. We do not receive the same… value.”
A small voice in the back of Twilight’s mind spoke up against her rising dread, making a point that she quickly brought to the fore. It was the same voice that kept her from admitting defeat to Discord for so long, and that had quickly realised how wrong Cadance had been acting prior to her wedding.
Twilight Sparkle realised that the man before her was trying to manipulate her emotionally into siding with him, rather than give her good rational reason to. She quickly decided that listening to him speak was becoming increasingly dangerous, and that she might need a better method of questioning him.
“I… I can’t believe they’d do that,” she barely whispered, her shoulders sagging and her head drooping towards the floor, looking to the entire world like an utterly defeated mare. 
The man’s smirk was meagre, but spoke volumes. “We are little more than playthings to them, Miss Sparkle, curiosities to be taken apart, studied, and ultimately thrown away. If you had seen the things I have seen, then-”
“But I haven’t,” Twilight looked up at him, her face set with worry, “I… I can’t believe they could be so… mindlessly cruel, without first seeing it myself,” she explained.
The man sighed. “I wish I could show you, Miss Sparkle, although you might prefer not to.”
“But… you could show me,” she explained quietly, “if… if I use my psionics to… if you’d let me see it in your mind, I-”
“You possess the Gift?” the man interrupted her.
Twilight blinked, a little surprised, before replying, “Y-you mean psionics? Yes, I… I can use psionics. I mean, only if you’re willing for me to-”
The thin man nodded, his expression softening slightly, “Then you have my permission to continue, Miss Sparkle.”
Twilight really had to try not to smile. “O-okay, sir, I’m ready to begin when you are. If you think about what they did, it will help me find it.” The man nodded again, and she began, a long, violet stream of psionic power twisting through the air from her horn to the man’s head.

The mindscape she found was bizarre. Not terribly dissimilar to her own, or Sgt Murray’s, but… sparse, by comparison. Twilight’s mindscape was an organised catalogue of over two decades of memories and knowledge, every sight, smell and sound preserved as a fond shadow of how she had first experienced them, in a neural tome that could take a year to read itself. Sgt Murray’s mindscape had been more fractured, less organised, and his experiences had been somewhat alien given his radically different environment, but it was still recognisable as a record of thirty-something years of life. While Twilight’s mind was an organised biography album, Murray’s had been a cluttered room of fond mementos – she’d needed his explanations to understand each experience, but the warmth and emotion of each piece was still present. A record of a life, regardless of its structure.
This alien, on the other hand, had a mind like an instruction manual – emotionless, brief, and structured to be understood, not felt. Isolated pockets of knowledge were dotted all over, barely connected to the rest of the mindscape. On top of that, there were barely two years’ worth of memories, and what there were showed signs of having been picked through, butchered for data, and ultimately dumped. 
An image formed, one of sterile, steely surroundings. Harsh lighting shone upon myriad sharp and pointy tools, as they were used upon a man like the one she had been speaking to. Figures in yellow, rubbery suits were removing something from him. It looked like an organ of some sort. Twilight felt her stomach turn.
Be glad I cannot show them doing the same to me, her companion thought, seemingly certain that she would hear it.
Undeterred, Twilight checked the memory’s connections. There were surprisingly few, so she found something suspicious very quickly. That’s a poison gland? she asked.
The man’s mind was briefly overcome with hesitation before he responded. A mild poison, yes, which is barely useful as even a self-defensive-
Oh look, Twilight continued, finding another memory, here’s one of your friends firing a cloud of the stuff halfway down a city street. And his target’s pulling back for immediate medical attention? That seems pretty serious.
Perhaps they are… more vulnerable to our toxins than I had realised, the man thought desperately.
Uh-huh, Twilight deliberately sounded unconvinced, I’ll be honest, it’s been fun but I’m kind of tired of you trying to lead me on. Good news for me, I now have access to all the facts, even if only as you understand them.
I assure you that you will find no wrongdoing on our part, the alien explained.
Then would you care to explain why this was linked to the word ‘experimentation’? Twilight brought an image to the front of the alien’s mindscape, of a captive human, naked and writhing, half-submerged in a whitish gel and strapped into an open sarcophagus. His head was enclosed in a metal protrusion from the tank’s edge, and a pair of scrawny aliens with bulbous, reddish heads were stood to either side, motionless. The biting chill of the room nudged at her senses, far too cold for the bared human to survive. Because to me this looks more like torture.
The search for the Gift necessitates many things, the alien man tried to reason, There is no painless way to-
Oh really? Twilight’s presence radiated with accusation, Dr Vahlen devised a totally pain-free method of psionic discovery in a little more than a week, and she could only reverse-engineer what you had.
The human’s method takes too long, the alien responded indignantly, we potentially had an entire planet to search.
Ten days is too long? Twilight was aghast. I spent years learning to do magic, and you can’t be asked to take ten days to prevent someone complete agony? Outside of the mindscape, Twilight’s body was actually trembling with anger. Did you even consider that your vicious methods might have been affecting the results? You can’t force a magical awakening like that, you have to use understanding and guidance!
That is not my concern, the alien patiently replied, I am merely given my orders, and directed to follow them.
Twilight took a moment to calm herself down before replying, I’ll have to take this issue up with your leaders later, then. Now, if you don’t mind I’m going to have a look through what your ‘orders’ frequently entail. The alien made no response, apparently knowing that it was powerless to stop her anyway. Twilight quickly browsed through the brief collection of memories, discovering that the alien had initially been used for maintenance aboard a small scout vessel, before being deployed as an infiltrator in a human city.
This place, St Petersburg, Twilight prodded, what was so important about it?
Indifference surrounded her. I am merely-
Yes, yes, given orders and show no desire to understand what they’re for, Twilight interrupted. She had been hoping to touch a nerve and get him to explain why he didn’t try to understand, but he made no response. She scanned through the memories, finding observations and studies of the city’s streets. There were no military installations watched, no government documents searched for, none of the precautions she assumed they might take if they were planning abductions. The alien had simply been recording where the largest volumes of the civilian population had been located. Surely they hadn’t planned on just swiping huge crowds, with no thought to-
Twilight physically recoiled as the memory changed suddenly. An immense shape hung in the air. Dark figures stalked between buildings. The city was burning.
There were bodies, and bits of bodies. The streets were littered with them. In the scant seconds the memory lasted, as the alien was wrapped in a bluish light and pulled upward, towards the enormous vessel that filled the sky, Twilight Sparkle witnessed over a hundred human corpses, lying in the roads of a crumbling city.
What is this!? the alicorn mentally screamed, even as she felt her throat tighten and her stomach clench.  ‘No wrongdoing’!? How could you-

Twilight’s tirade was cut short as she felt a sharp pain in her chest, followed by a loud bang. She quickly dropped the psionic connection and opened her eyes, to find herself dropping to the floor against the wall of her cell, her back and shoulders raw and her breast painful. She took a struggled gasp of air.
The alien had rammed her nearly ten metres across the room with a knee strike, easily winding her. His face was set into a savage snarl, his reptilian gaze locked onto her own. He dropped into a crouch, readying himself to spring across the room after her. His arms twisted unnaturally at the shoulder, bringing his bound hands over and in front of him. Twilight’s panicking hooves scrabbled to lift her upright to meet the charge.
He didn’t get the chance; both guards by the door had stepped forward, and lifted their weapons. The one on the left fired, arcs of white lightning lashing out at the alien, which writhed before falling limply to the ground. The other guard kept his gun pointed at the man for a moment, before lowering it and rushing towards Twilight. She struggled to lift herself from the ground as he approached, her breathing still out of control.
The guard dropped to a crouch next to her, setting his gun on the floor and placing a hand on her shoulder. He was saying something, but Twilight didn’t hear it. He lifted her up a little, helping her into a sitting position. It was a bit easier to breathe now, and the alicorn gave him a brief smile as thanks.
One of the science staff arrived at the cell door, and gave the two remaining guards an instruction. They stepped into the cell behind him, lifting the alien and carrying it out as the researcher walked over to Twilight, crouching next to her and gently placing a hand on her back. The alicorn suspected he was checking for any damage, because he started moving his hand slowly down her spine.
“What-” the alicorn coughed once, before inhaling deeply, her lungs coming back under control, “What was that all about?” she asked.
“Couldn’t tell you,” the guard responded, “Thin Men are normally smart enough to not attack when unarmed and with two armed men directly behind them.”
The scientist scoffed. “Hardly. Bloody wild animals, the lot of ‘em. Should’ve kept the thing restrained, bloody ‘fair image’ nons-”
“No, n-ah!” Twilight dismissed, wincing as the man touched a bruise, “I don’t think it would’ve attacked, but I kind of… freaked out at it.” She grimaced as she felt her stomach turn again, the images she’d seen in the alien’s mind returning.
“’Freaked out at it’?” the guard asked, tilting his head, “What for?”
Twilight swallowed her nausea and explained. “Well, first it assures me that everything they did to find, ahem, ‘Gifted’ humans was necessary, then I find a memory of them basically torturing a man to find out if he’s a latent psion,” she took a breath to steady her nerves, “and then there was this place, St Petersburg, which-”
Twilight stopped when both men looked straight at each other, then back to her. She glanced between the two of them. “…What’s St Petersburg?” she asked hesitantly.
The guard cleared his throat. “St Petersburg was the second place the aliens ever attacked. Not abductions or anything, I mean outright attacked. The first time, they deployed a handful of hostiles in Buenos Aires, and had them target civilians. The death toll went over a hundred, but it was bearable. We intervened, and Earth remained unshaken.”
“But that’s not what happened to St Petersburg,” Twilight pointed out.
The guard shook his head, his eyes fixed on the ground. “The second time, it was sheer terrorism – aerial bombardment, buildings sabotaged, massed hostiles landing… we deployed, but…”
“Chryssalids,” the scientist spat out, “bloody eighteen of ‘em, before the squad even had their feet on the ground. We didn’t have any Carapace armour ready by then.”
Twilight had difficulty keeping on her hooves, even sat down as she was. “So… those men…”
“Code Black,” the guard confirmed, “the Skyranger came home empty.” 
Twilight shivered. “A-and the city?”
The guard looked at the scientist. The scientists shook his head. “Hundreds of thousands, maybe more than a million. Russia was gracious enough to not immediately leave the council, but…”
The rest of his sentence fell on deaf ears as the alicorn’s knees buckled. She lowered herself to the floor, hyperventilating, seeing the image in her mind spread across half of Equestria.
She saw Celestia half-buried under a collapsed wall, instead of the nameless human woman.
Luna gunned down among a hundred others, instead of the old man with the glasses.
Shining Armour and Cadance, desperately trying to fight off a horde of voracious alien predators.
Her friends…
Bits of her friends.
Equestria was burning.
That had to be what they felt.
Twilight knew she could erase the memory. She could forget about it all. Just one quick spell and she’d never lose sleep over it. She charged her horn…
The image was attached to one word, a connection made of solid belief.
Never.
“I’ll do it,” she said quietly to herself, before lifting her head and clearing her throat. “I’ll do it,” she said again fiercely, to the two humans beside her, two men who had lived what she had merely imagined. “If XCOM wants a better understanding of psionics, I’ll give it to them. If you want me to train alongside your men, I’ll do it. If that’s the kind of attack you face, time and time again, then I want to be there, and face it with you.”
“You’re sure?” the guard asked, honestly surprised.
Twilight nodded, rising to her hooves again. “Whatever they did it for, the actions of these aliens are horrendous, and yet every time they try, you’re there to stop them. That kind of commitment, to safeguard a whole planet… It’s just so…” The young princess’ eyes started watering as her words failed her, her heart swollen with appreciation even as it was weighed down with sorrow.
“Bloody calm down, already,” the scientist said, though his face was set into a smile, “I’ve only been here since August, save the tears for someone braver.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder towards the door. “Mind if I go give Bradford the good news?”
“You go ahead,” Twilight replied, and watched as the researcher left the cell. She then turned to the other man knelt next to her, making an attempt to continue her point before falling short.
“Oh, c’mere, then,” he said, offering his arms out. The young princess grinned, before stepping forward and closing her hooves around his chest. Sure, there was an inch of Kevlar between the two of them, but it was still nice to have a proper hug.
Until he closed his arms around her still sore back, that is. “Ah!” she flinched, “Bruises! Bruises!”
The guard quickly let go, and frowned at the alicorn’s shoulders. “Okay, I doubt Vahlen’s team will have that suppressor ready by tonight, but if I can’t have a proper mattress sent down here, then I’m giving you mine.”
“Aww,” Twilight pulled back from the hug, leaving a hoof on the man’s breastplate, “You’d do that for me?”
The guard grinned cockily. “What, with my rugged good looks? I could probably find a bed to share for a few nights.”
“That won’t be necessary, soldier,” Officer Bradford interrupted as he entered the cell, “I’ll have a proper bed sent down from one of the spare barracks until Miss Sparkle can be better accommodated.”
“You got here pretty quickly, sir,” the guard asked.
Bradford frowned at him. “There was a security breach; I was already on my way.”
“Officer Bradford,” Twilight broke off the hug fully and stepped towards the CO, clearing her throat. “Having surveyed the war you’ve fought from both your soldiers’ and the aliens’ viewpoint, I hereby offer my services, such as they are, in full support of the XCOM project,” she declared, holding her right hoof forward.
Bradford took the appendage in his own right hand. “Welcome to XCOM, Miss Sparkle,” he replied, “I’m glad to have you with us.”
	
> Operation Lone Jester
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	1523, 26th February, 2016
The cool air inside the Skyranger was silent, save for the dull roar of the engines through the thick skin of the aircraft. The team within were briefed, equipped, and ready. This was a simple abduction response – a remnant ship had attempted one last civilian snatch, same as others had before it and others would afterward. 
Sergeant Pyotr Vinogradov fidgeted his gloved hands nervously. He glanced around the rest of his squad, most of whom were silent. Corporal Buskirk and Corporal Wouters were chatting quietly about something, but it didn’t carry far over the low thrum of the dropship. Vinogradov shook his head a little, before looking back at his twiddling thumbs.
“Hey, Sergeant?” Corporal Hashim, the squad sniper, spoke up, “What’s wrong?”
Sgt Vinogradov looked at her for a second before sighing. “It’s nothing. Nothing you or I could do anything about, anyway.”
Hashim raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” the Egyptian woman verbally prodded, clearly not satisfied.
The Russian fixed her with a slight frown. “Oh, fine,” he relented, “it’s just… put it this way. Command recently captured and contained a new alien, right?”
“Mhmm,” Hashim hummed agreeingly.
“And then they find out that it’s capable of doing things with psionics we’ve never experienced before,” Vinogradov continued, “before managing to communicate with it after it learns English straight from a soldier’s mind.”
“It’s unbelievable, I agree,” the sniper replied.
“And now they’re giving it a room in the barracks and letting it walk around the base unattended?” the medic questioned, “I’m not the only one concerned that this thing might have the whole of Command mind controlled, am I?”
Hashim fixed him with a quizzical look, before looking around the Skyranger. The entire rest of the squad was now listening to the two of them, but no one spoke, so she replied herself. “Well, you tell us, Magic Man, you’re the psion among us. How hard would it be for someone to do that?”
Vinogradov shook his head, “I couldn’t do it, you know that much. I don’t think there’s a single soldier in XCOM who could. Sure, it might just be controlling the Big Three, but that’s every strategic decision XCOM makes implicated.”
“Maybe you should talk with the psion they had it learn from,” Cpl Wouters interjected, lifting one hand from the helmet sat on his lap, “Murdock or whatever his name was. He might have some insight into its thinking.”
“He’d also be the most likely affected,” Lieutenant King, the squad commander, pointed out, “You might want to try finding things out for yourself. You know when psionic things are happening around you, right?” Vinogradov nodded. “Well, get yourself near this thing, which should be a lot easier now that it’s walking around the base, and see for yourself. If it’s doing anything suspicious, come tell us about it, and we’ll work out what to do from there.”
“Isn’t engineering designing some kind of suppressor for it?” Cpl Ward pointed out.
Vinogradov nodded, “Yes, but if it has got Shen mind controlled, I doubt it will actually do anything. Easy to engineer a fault into something when the Chief Engineer works for you.”
“Well, they aren’t finished on it yet,” Ward continued, “maybe you could ask for a demonstration? See if they can fit it onto you and test whether you can do anything while wearing it?”
“I’m pretty sure they’ll test the device properly before using it, Ward,” Lt King countered, “and Shen doesn’t have such complete control over Engineering that he could fake all the test results. Just wait until the alien’s wearing it and then… psychic-poke her, or whatever. If it doesn’t retaliate, great, the thing works. If it fights back, we have Hashim on standby.”
Hashim mimed aiming a rifle at Vinogradov, and grinned. “I’ll keep you covered, Magic Man, don’t worry.”
The medic gave her a flat look. “I feel safer already,” he said deadpan.


***


1556, 26th February, 2016
“So, me and Jonesy sneak  back into the school, right? Avoid all the cameras, dodge late-night janitors, full SAS operation. We head straight for the big monument out front. We do our bit, and get out of there without a trace. Whole school come in the next morning to find the thing painted like Superman,” William Walker finished his story as he walked besides his squadmates. Guseva barely chuckled, but Crash apparently found it much funnier.
“You know what I don’t understand?” Bishop said as the group left the gymnasium together, “How a man compares himself and his best friend, both fifteen years old and sneaking into a school, to an SAS operation. Especially when that same man is, himself, ex-SAS.”
William shrugged. “Hey, I go using someone else’s special forces I’m going to end up in a fight. Sure, I’d win, but Bradford would dock my pay again. I mean,” he said as the group turned a corner, “I could go saying ‘like we were both Army Rangers’, but-”
He stopped as Guseva elbowed him in the ribs, and looked forwards. A man was leaning against one wall of the hallway, dressed in a black leather jacket, black boots, black trousers and black gloves.
And, of course, a black face mask with a white skull decal on it.
“Walker,” he said venomously, “Red Six.”
“Deadeye,” Crash replied perfected civilly. Lazarro nodded silently.
“I’m sure you’re all ecstatic about the news,” Deadeye spoke, “About X-014?”
“We’ve heard,” Bishop replied, “and ultimately it’s Command’s decision whether a captive alien is safe to leave the containment facility.”
“Hm.” Deadeye’s mask turned to regard them each in turn. “I’d have thought that losing your psion to it would have made you more… hesitant, regarding its release.”
“From what we’ve been told,” Crash countered, “Miss Sparkle has fully explained Captain Pimenova’s current condition to the research team, and helped them design a series of tests and therapeutic courses to aid in her recovery should anything be amiss when she awakens.”
“We’ve had plenty of time to talk it over since we got the news, Colonel,” Lazarro explained, “And we’ve all agreed that it is not our place to act on this until the situation becomes too extreme for diplomacy to resolve.”
Deadeye fixed her an unblinking gaze. “You’re seriously all okay with letting that thing out?”
“Most of us are, yes,” William said through gritted teeth.
The sniper glanced at the Brit briefly. “Well, at least one of you is smart,” he replied, before looking back at Viking and adding, “enough.” He walked past the group and turned the corner, disappearing from view.
“They seriously just let him wear that helmet around the base?” Guseva asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Apparently it was a therapy aid,” Bishop said with a shrug.
“All rumours,” William spat, “Mr Dark-And-Troubled-Past probably just likes the attention being an arsehole gives him.”
“I suppose he’ll be sleeping with a gun under his pillow while Miss Sparkle’s staying with us,” Lazarro suggested.
“Another one?” Crash replied with a grin, “He might as well just sleep in the armoury.”
William chuckled, before stretching his shoulders back with a click. “Alright, forget him, let’s get back to it,” he decided, turning on his heel and continuing through the hallway. “Who’s up for pool?”


***


1713, 26th February, 2016
“I’m still not sure about this,” Officer Bradford spoke as he watched the psi inhibitor prototypes being tested. The final design was more of a slim backpack with attached headband than the initial concept of an inhibitor helmet, but form had to give way to function.
“Sparkle has shown herself to be both sympathetic to our cause, and to consider violence a last resort,” Dr Vahlen explained, “This device is meant to function as security in the event that she is deceiving us on these matters, but-”
“That isn’t what I’m concerned about,” Bradford interrupted, “I think Miss Sparkle is telling the truth, and that we don’t absolutely need this device. My concern is our own men, the soldiers who won this war, reacting violently to Twilight’s freedom. Out of fear, out of instinct, or even simple xenophobia, our soldiers have more than enough reason not to trust anything alien. This device,” he nodded to the testing chamber, where the volunteer psions were finding themselves incapable of using their abilities, “will leave her completely defenceless if any member of staff attempts to harm her.”
“Sparkle won’t be completely defenceless,” Dr Vahlen noted, “the design of the device is simply to prevent a psion projecting their power, not to negate it entirely. If a psionic soldier were to attempt to invade her mind, they would find her as powerful as Captain Pimenova did, except incapable of retaliating. As for threats of a physical nature,” the head of research continued as the CO went to speak, “I suggest you make it quite clear to the men that Sparkle is under XCOM protection, not simply XCOM custody. We’ll also be testing to find a setting for this device that would allow her to use her telekinesis at a reduced strength, which she would then be able to use to deter or slow an attacker even if she were incapable of causing them direct harm, as well as open doors for herself.”
“That still won’t help her against anyone attempting to sneak up on her, or use any of the weapons in the armoury,” Bradford noted.
Dr Vahlen sighed. “True, but there is little we can do about that without putting her in full armour. Doctor Shen believes the best defence we can give her is the soldiers’ trust, which is why he would like to present a full explanation of this device’s function to the men.”
“So that until they have sufficient reason to trust Twilight, they instead have trust in this inhibitor?” Officer Bradford thought for a moment. “It’s a bit reliant on our soldiers’ sentimentality, but it should keep most of the men peaceful.”
“Especially since we’ve taken steps to ensure that the device’s controls can’t be tampered with psionically,” the scientist noted. “The touchscreen interface has a fingerprint identification system built in, with myself and Dr Shen set as the only authorised personal for now. We’ll be adding further research staff as your combat testing requires.”
Bradford nodded. “When do you think the device will be ready?”
Vahlen checked her data slate. “Prototype testing seems to have been a complete success, so now we need only to produce the final design and test it on Sparkle herself under controlled conditions. She should be free to leave containment in the morning.”
Bradford nodded. “Tell Shen he can give his presentation tonight, if he wants to. Until the soldiers are informed, I think it would be best if Twilight stayed in the research labs and out of the barracks.”
Dr Vahlen nodded, and Officer Bradford turned and left the room.

***

1838, 26th February, 2016.
Eirunepé, Amazonas, Brazil. Local time: 1338
“Central this is Big Sky,” the Skyranger’s radio came to life, “we have reached the AO and are ready to deploy.”
“Copy that Big Sky,” Bradford’s voice came through clearly to both the pilot and the soldiers in the aircraft’s rear, “deploy when ready. Fireteam Juliet, the ship manifest we intercepted shows nothing you can’t handle with what you have on hand, but there’s a sequence in the mission statement that we can’t decrypt in any way that makes sense. Keep your eyes open, I want you all alive when you get home.”
“Roger sir,” Lt King called back, before addressing her squad. “Okay, anyone see anything strange out there, call it out. Ward, I want you ready with those flashbangs. If we get a chance to capture something new, we take it. Now ready up for touchdown!”
Corporal Wouters pulled his helmet on as the squad readied their weapons and formed up by the Skyranger’s ramp. The dropship touched down lightly on a main road, before the ramp opened and the soldiers deployed.
“The abduction site is dead ahead,” Bradford called in, “local military have the perimeter secure, and the Relay shows no alien craft in the air.”
Lt King turned to signal to her squad, before spotting Sgt Vinogradov, a frown on his face. “Sergeant, what’s wrong?”
Vinogradov shook his head. “Something. There’s… a lot of psionic signals up ahead, but they’re all really faint,” he explained, a note of confusion in his voice. “It keeps coming in short bursts, too.”
King frowned. “What does it mean?” she asked.
Her sergeant shrugged, before pointing forward. “I’m okay, regardless. Let’s press on.”
The squad reached the site, a few buildings surrounding a road junction. Cpl Wouters stepped up to a corner onto a side alley, glanced around it, and waved the squad forward. 
Cpl Hashim took cover behind a car on the other side of the road, keeping her rifle trained down the streets ahead of the squad.
A tin can clattered as Cpl Ward knocked it with his foot as he jogged past, earning him a “Quiet!” from his Lieutenant.
Wouters stepped up to the next alley. He glanced around, before ducking back. “I hear something,” he said, holding up a hand to halt the squad.
Vinogradov stepped up beside him. 
A second passed. 
Two.
Three.
The unmistakable howl of a Floater echoed down the alleyway as Cpl Buskirk stepped past the two, crossing the alley to take the opposite corner.
Hashim moved to a car across from the alley as King and Ward entered it, taking positions behind some crates and an abduction pod respectively.
“Something’s up,” Vinogradov radioed the squad, “something psionic happened when that Floater howled.”
“Psychic Floaters?” Ward called back, “How-”
He was cut off by a much closer howl, as a trio of the cybernetic flying torsos descended into the side street from the rooftops.
“They sounded a lot further away!” Wouters shouted, as Hashim and Buskirk opened fire. Hashim’s shot went wide, but the liberal spray of her Russian squadmate’s gatling laser tore through one of the aliens. It crashed into the tarmac with a screech.
The remaining two Floaters howled, rocketing behind cover as the rest of the squad began to take aim.
Vinogradov blinked as another psionic signal washed over him, and the two aliens made short wretching sounds before rocketing down the alleyway away from the squad.
“They’re retreating,” Lt King announced, sounding a little confused, “move up and keep behind cover.”
“Corporal Hashim, keep up with the squad,” Officer Bradford radioed in, “we don’t want you getting ambushed.”
“This isn’t right,” Cpl Ward muttered as Buskirk and Vinogradov moved past him, both checking down a side alley as they reached it, “Floater’s don’t just retreat like this.”
Vinogradov shook his head in agreement, but said nothing. The psionic pulses were becoming more frequent now.
One of the Floaters howled up ahead, as it moved further away from the squad.
“They’re leading us into something,” Vinogradov realised, before calling the squad leader. “Lieutenant King, I think they’re leading us into an ambush. The psionic signal is relaying orders of some kind, I’m sure.”
“You’re sure?” King replied as Ward and Wouters moved forward again, “We’ve never seen them do this before, why-”
“Shoot!” Wouters shouted, throwing himself backwards as a burst of plasma fire sprayed out, decimating the dumpster he had been about to pass, “Mutons!”
Four of the hulking green brutes rose from behind cover further up the alleyway, quickly opening fire on the rest of the squad. The two Floaters howled and charged again, one of the pausing to add his own gunfire to the mix.
The rain of green fire cascaded down the side street, quickly breaking down the crude cover within. Hashim, still only just inside the alley’s entrance, took aim and pulled the trigger, a narrow red beam blossoming forth from her rifle and scorching one of the Mutons, not killing it but causing it to stop firing and duck behind cover again. Vinogradov and Buskirk followed suite, killing one of the Mutons and the more aggressive Floater between them.
“Little help here!” Cpl Ward shouted, ducked behind a few steel bins with hot plasma splattering over them and flying over his head. One of the Mutons kept him supressed, as another lumbered forward, readying a grenade in its massive hands.
Hashim’s rifle sounded again, this time killing the Muton firing at Ward. The rifleman took the opportunity to dash back down the lane, out of range of the grenade thrower. It roared at him, before throwing its weapon at Wouters instead.
“Gah!” Wouters cried as the bomb detonated, burning him and splintering the broken crates he had been cowering behind.
“Wouters, retreat!” Lt King called out, scoring a hit on the grenadier with the slim red beam from her pistol, “Sergeant, give him cover!”
Vinogradov nodded, snatching a smoke grenade from his belt and pulling the pins from it. He lobbed it onto the street ahead, where it erupted into a dense cloud of blue smoke.
Wouters hobbled out of the cloud, ducking behind the shattered remains of the dumpster and dropping onto his knees and one hand, the other still holding his weapon. Their sight obscured, the Mutons’ plasma began striking the pavement and walls of the alley more than the cover the soldiers hid behind.
A loud scream was heard, before the second Floater came soaring out of the smoke cloud. It raised its carbine to fire at Buskirk, before the jetpack on its back exploded courtesy of a well-placed blast from Lt King’s scatter laser. “Three to go,” she calmly announced to her squad, before directing them, “Sergeant, get Wouters on his feet. Buskirk and Ward, move up and prepare to shoot once you can see again. Hashim…” She trailed off as Vinogradov held a hand up.
“Another pulse,” he said simply, before a series of electrical whirring noises and the pounding of metal on concrete came echoing down the alley behind them.
“Mechtoid, flanking!” Hashim cried out from behind them, “Out from the side alley! It’s an ambush!”
“They don’t do those!” Ward yelled, his hands shaking, “What is going on here!?”
“Ward, keep it together!” King ordered, “Hashim, stay in cover, and…” she looked over the alley behind them as the agile form of the alien robot stepped into the street, a shimmering purple shield covering it. There was nothing that could cover them from it, without the Mutons gunning them down from behind when the smoke cleared.
And it was clearing fast.
The Mechtoid raised both its arm cannons, aiming straight at Lieutenant Zoe King.
She got ready to jump to the side, or duck, or whatever might help against the imminent barrage.
The Mechtoid’s eyes twitched and its legs quaked. The cannons fired, their aim suddenly erratic, the shots spraying overhead. King ducked under them, before glancing around for the cause of this.
Vinogradov had one hand extended towards the cyborg, his face set in a determined frown and his teeth bared. Psionics, as little skilled with it as he was, still made itself useful.
“There you are, you little!” Hashim shouted, before her rifle rang out, the red beam entering the edge of the side alley, and a wavering cry pierced the air. The purple shield sputtered and died, leaving the Mechtoid open. The three remaining soldiers wasted no time in pelting the towering robot with gunfire, quickly bringing it down, its armour sloughing off and the skin of its face aflame.
Vinogradov dropped to a crouch, pulling a field medikit from his back , as his comrades about faced to deal with the three Mutons. He quickly sprayed the painkiller and coagulant mix over the heavy burning on Wouters’ right side, before checking him for any permanent damage.
The Mutons had moved forwards during the interlude, bringing them into a much better range for King’s scatter laser to work. She made good use of it, dropping one of the lumbering brutes as Ward fired off a shot, finishing the one Hashim had wounded earlier.
The last Muton roared defiantly, raising its rifle and firing, striking Buskirk squarely in the chest. It bellowed in triumph as she dropped to the floor, before the narrow beam from Hashim’s rifle caught it between the eyes and it fell with a warbling howl, hitting the ground with a heavy thump.
A second of silence passed before King called out, “Buskirk, you okay?”
“Y-yeah,” the heavy said, coughing as she got to her feet, one hand on her stomach, “a little burned, but my armour held out. How’re you, Wouters?”
“In one piece,” the scout replied from gritted teeth, as Vinogradov checked what felt like cracked ribs.
“Central, this is Fireteam Juliet,” Lt King radioed in, “we’ve got two casualties but we’re good to continue, over.”
“Juliet, this is Central. We’re not detecting any more signatures in that area. Looks like you got them all, head back to the Skyranger, over,” Bradford replied concisely.
King nodded, before looking at her sergeant. “Any more activity?” she queried.
Vinogradov paused, and then shook his head. “Nope. I can’t sense anything else going on.”
“Weird,” King muttered, before speaking up. “You ever felt something like this on a mission before?”
“Never,” the Russian replied.
King ran a hand through her blonde hair in thought, before shaking her head. “Well, whatever. Make sure to include it in the debriefing, and we’ll let the lab boys sort it out.”
“I know the aliens can be smart,” Ward chimed in, “but organising their whole strike force into a single ambush? That doesn’t happen, man.”
“Apparently it does now,” Vinogradov said, helping Wouters to his feet, “let’s just be glad we’re all alive and in one piece, and we’ll worry about the answers to all this later.”

***

The Found One looked over the screen before it with sorrow.
The soldiers were all dead, and not a single foe had fallen to justify it. Worse, they had recovered only a handful of the beasts to question.
Which was questionable in itself, looking at the screen. Those were roads. Those were houses. That looked a lot like a restaurant.
The Found One did not like the idea of interrogating civilians. That it had cost lives to achieve did not help in the slightest.
And the enemy had the Gift. Crude as it was compared to the proper art, it still made them all the more dangerous. Without it, the tactic used would have been perfect. Well, except for the Sectoid moving into view of the rearmost creature.
Next time, the Found One would do better, but before then, there were questions to be asked.
	
> Test IX: Combat Testing
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two beings regarded each other silently for a moment, as the door was shut behind the newer arrival.
The room was dim. A single, bare bulb struggled to illuminate a space barely bigger than an office cubicle, its only furniture a cheap wooden table, two plastic chairs, and a blackboard tucked against one wall. The walls themselves were bare blockwork, although the floor had been coated with linoleum tiles, a pallid green doing little to offset the room’s lackluster design.
Neither of its occupants cared, of course. They both had greater concerns for being present. One had dared to wait in the room for over an hour, apprehensive of the other’s arrival. The other had been concerned enough to show up, so bleak was its own situation.
Jenkins took a deep breath, and held out a hand. “It’s an honour to meet you, sir,” he began.
Your pleasantries mean little, a voice sounded in his mind, powerful and ancient, and there is much to discuss.
“Y-yes,” Jenkins stuttered, before clearing his throat. “I represent a long-standing and diverse coalition of-”
Squabbling, treacherous, power-hungry conspirators, the voice spoke again. It can be clearly seen in your mind. You yourself would betray those of higher station if it garnered you more power, and would abandon your order if it endangered you.
Jenkins frowned. “I am nothing but loyal to the order,” he replied with confidence.
The alien before him remained as stoic as its mask enforced. Perhaps. The collective defiance of humanity has caused our downfall. In meeting with you, it is hoped that the singular ambition of humans will aid our reconstruction. It is not clear, however, how you intend to help us.
Jenkins mused for a moment. “You’re scattered, with no communications, correct?”
An unfortunate circumstance, the Ethereal admitted.
“We’ve managed to make contact with you,” Jenkins pointed out, “and with some information from you to… refine our techniques, we could continue to attempt contact with other ships, help you restructure your fleet.”
A welcome offer, but hardly worthy of what you seek to ask in return, the Ethereal replied. You seek our technology, the advancements we have made that you have not, especially regarding the Gift. Do not be concerned, the Ethereal dismissed the counter argument the human had been about to give, the reward you seek will be admitted, if your efforts prove useful. However, one more thing is needed of you.
“Ask away,” Jenkins replied, realising that the conversation was firmly outside of his control.
The soldiers. The New One’s allies. They have surpassed where others have failed, but their violent refusal of their own purpose makes them dangerous. You have some information on them, the Ethereal noted, and you have soldiers of your own. We will continue to operate as we have, searching for more who might bear the Gift. You will seek out and destroy the New One’s allies.
Jenkins nodded. “We will do what we can,” he agreed, “and in return-”
In return we will provide you with… some of our technologies. What we share will depend on how you perform.
The man nodded. “Wouldn’t want to give us too many toys so soon in case we turn out like XCOM, makes sense. And if we’re successful in destroying them?”
The Ethereal was silent for a moment, before its response echoed in Jenkins’ mind. Your order will be reformed into our official presence on this world. You will be given freedom to govern it as you wish, under our guidance. We will be allowed to continue our search for Gifted ones freely. Both of our collectives will prosper together.
“Deal,” Jenkins replied, extending a hand automatically. To his mild surprise, the Ethereal did likewise, one long, withered limb creeping from the folds of its heavy cloak, and the first of its three spindly fingers pressing its point firmly into the palm of his extended hand.
Our decision is agreed, it intoned, before the limb withdrew. The alien turned and glided silently out of the room, the door opening itself as it passed through. The three human guards in the next room watched it leave silently, before withdrawing a little as the armoured hulk of the Muton they had been sharing the room with lumbered past in pursuit of its master.
“Gentlemen,” Jenkins addressed the three men as he entered the room, “the game is afoot.”


***


Twilight Sparkle breathed in, and out. She shifted a little where she stood, feeling the thick fabric of the training suit cling to her body. The straps of the psionic dampener’s pack hugged her torso, as the headset attached to it gripped her horn. She glanced at the small screen nestled between her wings. It was currently set to one hundred percent impedance, which the alicorn admitted made sense.
“Right,” the technician beside her spoke, “you know the rules and everything? Weapons fire only, no physical hitting.”
“I know,” Twilight said, looking at the mock weapon in the hands of the soldier in front of her.
“Today’s just an aptitude test,” he went on, “getting you used to what a battlefield can be like. You’re going to be up against two soldiers, Popov and Santiago, both corporals. This is training for them as well as you, since we’re giving you eight hit points to their five each. Every shot does one to three, two to five if flanking.”
Twilight still found it a little odd that official military training was conducted with such an odd system, but she wasn’t going to question it. Apparently it helped model how the soldiers’ armour affected their survivability. “So stay behind cover and keep moving, got it.”
“Right, let’s get the dampener set up,” the technician spoke. “You want to try lifting this?” He set the mock weapon on the ground in front of Twilight’s hooves. She frowned and concentrated as both of his hands moved to the device on her back. Gradually, she felt her magic reaching out, becoming stronger little by little as the technician altered the device’s settings. After about a minute of trialing, Twilight could keep the gun steady at eye level and aim it roughly as easily as she could point a hoof at something.
“Okay, impedance set to ninety-two-point-seven percent,” the technician spoke, before looking at the clipboard he had with him and muttering something. “Anyway, you’re all set. Door’s straight ahead, combat starts when the green light shows and it opens.”
Twilight gave a brief nod, before going to stand before the door, her rifle floating near her right shoulder. She didn’t have much magic left over besides what she needed to manipulate it, which also made sense - she needed to know what their soldiers might find useful, if she could teach it to them, so she should start by knowing what they do now.
The red light above the door turned a harsh green, and the portal slid open. The alicorn spotted an identical door on the other side of the room open, maybe fifty metres away. Two men in black bodysuits similar to her own rushed through as she did, all three combatants quickly taking cover behind nearby barriers.
The room’s cover consisted mostly of cuboid barricades made of plywood. The sides sloped outwards, giving the obstacles a wider base than their top. Twilight had been told that they could retract into the ground to simulate destruction from explosives, but that wouldn’t be an issue she needed to deal with.
The alicorn quickly moved to her right, keeping her head low as she trotted. Thanks to her shorter height, staying behind cover was as simple as lowering her head, without needing to squat her legs. Her wings were under her suit, and there were no holes for them, so they weren’t an issue either.
She cautiously peeked over the barrier, a good thirty feet from where she started. One of the men was also moving sideways, roughly to keep in front of her, while the other was moving forwards and to his right, freely jumping barriers as he did so. Twilight watched for a second, aiming her rifle as she tracked his movement. She pulled the trigger as he went to jump another wall, guessing that he’d be unable to dodge while mid-flight.
The duo of low ‘boop’ noises that filled the arena told her that she guessed right, signalling that he’d lost two hit points. “I’m hit!” he shouted, as he almost threw himself behind a box after landing, doing his best not to let her get another shot in.
Twilight smiled, before glancing around for new cover. Keep low, keep moving. She galloped to a nearby wall before vaulting over it, turning to scan the room on landing.
A red beam to her chest brought her attention back to the second man, as the room’s speakers signalled three hits. “Hey!” Twilight shouted, before returning fire, only to have the man duck her laser.
“Have to try a little harder than that!” the soldier called back in a deep voice. Twilight frowned before jumping back over her cover, running for a nearby taller wall. She could hear the first man’s feet pounding again, back on the move to try and flank her.
If she could get him flanked, she’d probably take him out, Twilight knew. She kept herself low, trying not to give away her position as she moved across the room. Occasional glances told her that it was beginning to work, as the forward man seemed to lose track of her, hunkered down behind a wall that covered him from her earlier position.
“Santiago! Behind you!” the second man - Popov, she guessed - shouted as she moved to outflank his ally.
Santiago span around as Twilight stepped out from behind another wall, her weapon brought to bear. Red light bloomed forth, and the alicorn watched as he jumped to one side with a cry of “It’s flanking me!” She gritted her teeth in frustration, stepping back into cover.
“Smoke out!” Popov shouted, before a thunk and a bang surrounded Twilight and Santiago in a thick cloud of green smoke. Twilight frowned - she didn’t have smoke grenades, she just had a rifle. She was pretty sure they weren’t meant to have smoke grenades. Why-
Her chain of thought was interrupted by a loud thump from behind her, and she span around to see Santiago with a flanking shot. “Not gonna be that easy,” he taunted as he aimed his weapon.
Thinking fast, Twilight dropped her weapon from her magical grip and grabbed Santiago’s. He cried in alarm as his gun was wrenched upwards, the red beam hitting the ceiling uselessly. The alicorn pulled the weapon from the soldier’s hands fully and dropped it, moving to snatch up her own again. As she started, though, she spotted something else on the soldier’s suit - a mock grenade.
“Hey, you’re not meant to-!” Santiago shouted as he bent down to grab his gun, cutting himself short when he spotted the pin float past his face. A loud triple boop and the cover around him lowering into the ground served to let him know that he was out.
“One down!” Twilight shouted with joy as she vaulted over a wall, her weapon in tow once more. She and Popov were five hit points each, which meant one good flanking shot could decide this. She spotted him duck behind a high wall, and so ran for the other end of it, alternating between keeping low and jumping walls as she did so. She rounded the corner. She took aim at the exposed soldier as her hooves touched the floor, still not fully stopped.
Popov was faster, his laser smacking her square in the side. Five hits rang out on the room’s speakers, and the lit strips on Twilight’s rifle went dark.
“Aww,” Twilight moaned, looking first at her weapon and then at Popov. “How come you were allowed grenades?” She asked with a huff.
Popov shrugged. “They gave us grenades, simple as that. You have psionics, after all.”
“Enough to mimic having hands, sure,” Twilight countered, “but you already have those.”
“Ours aren’t twenty feet long,” Santiago countered, walking up beside the pair with his gun back in his hands. “Nice moves, by the way, didn’t see that coming.”
“I had to think on my hooves,” Twilight replied, “I’ve been getting a lot of practice at that lately.”
“Speaking of late,” Popov gestured to the door, “Lunch break starts in a quarter hour, and debrief can take that long. Shall we?”
Twilight nodded, and the three of them left the arena.


***


Research Project: Subject X-014 “Sparkle.”
Date: 28th February 2016
Experiment X-014-1-I:  Combat Testing 1
Personnel: Cpl A Santaigo, Cpl W Popov

Experiment Summary
Standard training exercise, battlefield mimicking urban environment. X-014-1 equipped with one training laser rifle, one refitted training hit detection suit, and one psionic inhibitor set to 92.7% impedance. This value allows X-014-1 to manipulate her weapon using psionics without having excess psionic power for other applications. Cpl Santiago and Cpl Popov equipped each with training laser rifle and training hit detection suit. Cpl Popov also equipped with smoke grenade, and Cpl Santiago also equipped with training fragmentation grenade.
X-014-1 immediately shows adequacy in conventional XCOM tactics, utilising cover to impede enemy targeting and maneuvering to outflank enemies. At forty-three second mark, X-014-1 becomes aware of Cpl Popov and Cpl Santiago’s additional equipment and the advantage this gives them. X-014-1 begins to use psionics offensively, impeding Cpl Santiago’s weapon before activating his grenade, releasing control of its own weapon to do so.
X-014-1 ultimately eliminated by reaction fire from Cpl Popov, while attempting to outflank him. Training ends and all subjects proceed to debriefing.

Further Research
X-014-1 has demonstrated a willingness to use psionics on combat opposition, and has also demonstrated some of the uses of telekinesis in a combat environment, making up for an initial disadvantage in doing so. Though telekinesis is difficult for XCOM psion operatives to achieve, training those who use it regularly in X-014-1’s application of the technique would be wise - to date, no XCOM operative has attempted to prematurely detonate an enemy’s explosives. Attempts have been made to return thrown grenades, but they have been met with little success, reportedly due to maintaining the finesse involved in such a task being difficult on the battlefield.
X-014-1’s ability to manipulate the battlefield at such high impedance is impressive. Tests are to be run to confirm its abilities at this impedance, before testing X-014-1’s abilities at lower impedances.
> 12:15, 28th February 2016 - Lunch Break
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

1215, 28th February 2016
The doors to the canteen swung open. This, in itself, was an event that happened once every ten seconds at this time of day, and so the sound of it didn’t garner much attention. The sight of a winged purple unicorn entering through the doors, flanked by and chatting to a pair of soldiers, though, drew the attention of everyone in the canteen. Or at least, everyone who was looking the right way and not too engrossed in conversation.
Twilight Sparkle, for her part, didn’t even look around as the vocal noise in the room lowered; she was still talking to Popov and Santiago, neither of whom had actually told her their first name yet. The three of them joined the back of the queue at the counter.
“So, Miss Sparkle,” Popov continued as he took a plastic tray, “any family?”
Twilight nodded. “My parents live in Canterlot, where my dad runs a bookbinding business, self-employed. Mum’s tried her hand - hoof, I mean - at writing, but not full time. My older brother Shining Armour is captain of the Canterlot Guard, and recently married my old foalsitter, Princess Cadance.”
“You became a princess and your brother married one?” Santiago raised an eyebrow, “Your parents have got to be proud.”
Twilight’s breath caught for a moment. “I’ve been gone a month,” she noted, “right now they’re probably worried sick.”
Santiago shrugged. “At least you don’t have to worry about them being safe, eh?”
Twilight cleared her throat before replying, “True, it’s not like there’s a dire threat to Equestria every two months that only I and my friends can resolve.”
Santiago and Popov looked at her silently for a moment, before turning to look at each other. “Snarkle,” they said in unison, before Popov chuckled and Santiago shook his head.
“What-” Twilight began to ask, before feeling another consciousness press up against her own. She sensed mainly concern and inquisitiveness from it, but still pushed back against it, preventing it from entering her own mind properly.
“Something Fireteam Foxtrot came up with,” Popov replied, “but look, I’m sure your family are fine.”
“Mmm,” the alicorn mutely agreed, focusing more on defending herself; whoever was trying to push into her mind, they were stubborn. “Hopefully while I’m gone my friends can deal with- Gah!” Twilight winced, her ears flattening, as a second thoughtstream battered into her mental defenses, this one radiating something more akin to fearful determination. She redoubled her efforts, focussing on fortifying whatever space she could within the inhibitor’s allowance.
“You okay?” Santiago asked, moving to kneel down to her level, but Twilight didn’t respond. More came, maybe seven in total, all pressing upon her, probing her mind for weaknesses. She couldn’t fight back. She couldn’t hold them off forever. Their intent, together, was stronger than hers.
One of them broke through, and Twilight’s mind began to ache as it started scouring her memories for something. She quickly moved to address it, only to have another force its way in before she had started. She could hear voices, but couldn’t make out what they said.
The rest moved. Thrashing, prying, scrabbling at her mind. Twilight lost focus as panic began to grip her thoughts, which the second thoughtstream was quick to intensify.
Another dug into her memories, pulling at them.
A third joined them.
Twilight pushed back, trying to chase one out.
One of them jolted her, forcing a migraine.
One attacked, trying to wrest control of herself away.
Twilight’s legs went from shaking to collapse.
Her memories flashed before her rapidly as they were searched.
Something caught her fall.
Her body was turned to try and fight back against it.
STOP! she mentally screamed, the feedback of its volume stunning her assailants for a moment. One of them was forced back to their own mind for a moment, before reprojecting. She felt her body go limp again before it managed to lash out at anyone.
What are you doing?! she asked, panic and distress still filling her mindscape.
We need to know what you really are, one of the intruders replied, even as some of them resumed their search, right now we don’t have a lot of solid evidence of anything.
You’ve been in contact with Bradford, Vahlen and Shen, another chimed in, pausing from rooting through her memories to do so, and you could have them controlled or implicated somehow.
You’re up to something, you alien scum, a third loudly accused her, and we’re going to stop you.
I can answer everything, okay? Twilight replied, which caused most of the intruders to pause for a moment. Just, just let me get my bearings straight first.
The minds pressing into her were silent for a moment, before the third one replied. No! You're going to change your memories or something! Erase the evidence!
She’s causing a scene right now, another psion chimed in, which will draw attention back to us. Let’s let her get out of the queue first.
We’re not fully backing off yet, though, another noted, Just to make sure you don’t try anything.
Alright, Twilight agreed, as she felt control over her own body beginning to return, give me five minutes to get seated somewhere.
Well, Moreau’s ahead of you, a voice noted, she turns around and you’ll need twenty.
Twilight was mildly pleased that she actually frowned slightly. Now finding the ability to focus on something outside of her own head, she realised that it was Santiago who’d caught her when her legs gave out. He looked concerned, but seemed to relax a little as she blinked and looked at him. “Are you alright? What happened?” He asked as she shuffled upright in his grip.
“I’m fine,” Twilight confirmed as she glanced around, spotting Popov looking outright worried and a few other men and women crowding around, “just a little startled. Someone in here just decided to strike up a conversation with psionics, and I wasn’t ready for them.” Who’s Moreau? She mentally added.
Why not ask Santiago? A reply came back quickly. Twilight thought there was a mischievous undertone in there, but wasn’t entirely sure.
“Using psionics like that stops you doing anything?” Santiago asked, a perplexed look on his face as he let go of the now standing alicorn.
“Well, no,” Twilight admitted, “I could normally concentrate on a mental conversation and act normally at the same time, only the others were being a bit more forceful than I’m used to. Which makes sense, given that they’re used to using it offensively against hostile minds,” she added.
“Others? Plural?” Santiago frowned. “How many and who?”
“About eight, but I don’t know who,” Twilight replied, before feeling some of her visitors signal caution. “One of them mentioned the name Moreau?”
“Moreau?” Popov exclaimed, scratching at the side of his head, “but she isn’t even a-”
“Mon Dieu!” Twilight heard a woman’s voice shout, before yelling herself as she was grabbed around the chest, wings pinned to her back, and pulled completely off of the floor, hooves flailing.
“Il est trop chou!” The woman cried again, as Twilight felt herself being swayed side to side as she struggled, her legs kicking vainly at the air, “Je veux le garder et lui brosser la crinière! Où puis-je obtenir un?”
“Uh, Captain Moreau,” Santiago said, placing both hand on Twilight’s shoulders to stop the woman swinging her, “This is Twilight Sparkle. The one-of-a-kind magic horse alien everyone has been talking about.”
Twilight felt the grip on herself loosen a little. “Donc, je ne peux pas le garder?”
The alicorn herself stopped squirming to look at the two soldiers before her. “Is she going to put me down?” she asked exasperatedly.
Moreau gasped. “Il parle aussi?” she practically squealed, before tightening the hug again.
“Captain, you couldn’t put her down, could you?” Santiago asked,as Twilight started to get a little giddy from being shaken around so much, “S'il vous plaît?”
Twilight heard the woman sigh, before feeling herself be lowered to the ground as delicately as if she were made of spun glass. Relieved to have her hooves back on the floor, she turned to face her ‘attacker’. A fair-skinned woman with loose dark hair and narrow shoulders was kneeling down to the alicorn’s eye level, her crossed arms propped up on one knee. She was wearing a loose white tee shirt, dark blue jogging bottoms, white trainers and a look of absolute endearment on her face. “Vous êtes adorable,” she whispered, glancing between Twilight’s eyes and muzzle.
Twilight cleared her throat before holding out a hoof. “Pleased to meet you, Captain Moreau,” she said, also spotting a man stood a little way behind the woman, holding two trays of food and waiting patiently.
“C'est agréable de vous rencontrer,” Cpt Moreau replied, taking Twilight’s hoof in a firm grip, “je vous présente mes excuse pour le câlin.”
She said hello, and apologised for hugging you, one of Twilight’s mental guests informed her, Moreau understands English perfectly but doesn’t ever speak it.
Thanks, Twilight replied in her mind, before replying out loud, “Don’t mention it, you just surprised me a little.”
Moreau looked a little shocked herself, but Santiago cut in before she could speak again. “Captain Moreau is one of XCOM’s more experienced soldiers,” he explained to the alicorn, “she’s lead Fireteam Echo on more successful missions than some of us have seen.”
“Et je n'ai jamais eu un seul soldat mort,” the Captain added, “Je prends soins de mes gars.”
“That’s really impressive,” Twilight agreed, “how do you do it?”
“Il faut courir vite et bien,” she explained, “et porter une arme balaise.”
“Moreau’s trained as one of our Assault-class soldiers,” Santiago divulged further, “specialising in close-range combat against the aliens. As such, she pulls a lot of the attention away from the rest of her squad, giving them a little more room to breathe.”
Twilight’s ears drooped in concern. “That sounds pretty dangerous,” she noted.
“J'esquive bien,” The captain said with a shrug, before giving Twilight a curious look. “Vous ne parlez pas français , mais vous le comprenez?” she asked.
“Not really,” Twilight admitted after having the question translated for her, “I’ve got someone telling me everything with psionics right now, but I’d like to learn to speak it for myself.”
“C'est peut-être quelque chose avec lequel je pourrais vous aider?” Moreau suggested, before a cough from behind her caught her attention. Twilight glanced around the french woman as she turned, and noted that the entire lunch queue had cleared save for the man holding two trays, who was looking pointedly at the captain. “Désolé, mais je dois partir. Je vais vous laisser à votre déjeuner, c'était un plaisir de vous rencontrer Madame Sparkle.”
“Say au revoir,” Santiago instructed.
“Au revoir, Captain Moreau,” Twilight said with a smile, which Moreau returned before turning and walking towards her squadmate. “Well, I think that’s enough excitement for one lunchtime,” the alicorn said with a sigh.
“Popov seems to agree,” Santiago nodded, “he’s already sat down and eating.”
Twilight nodded silently and headed towards the counter. She quickly selected a red pepper and courgette panini, and at Santiago’s insistence had mozzarella in it as well. Santiago himself had a six-cheese melt, the mere smell of which made the alicorn nauseous. He was, however, kind enough to carry her tray to the table for her, setting it down next to Popov’s. After maneuvering herself into the plastic chair next to the Russian, Twilight picked up her sandwich with her magic and began eating.
Except it didn’t budge.
Thinking for a moment, Twilight rolled her eyes as she remembered how the psi inhibitor she was wearing worked - she was at ninety-seven-point-five percent impedance while walking around the base, so she’d have to use forty times as much psionic power to lift the sandwich. That was a lot for one sandwich, but it was doable and she was hungry.
Still nothing.
Twilight frowned. This shouldn’t be this difficult. Still, perhaps she’d merely underestimated the weight of the panini, and so tried doubling her power usage.
Still nothing.
Aren’t you hungry? one of the voices in her head spoke teasingly. Annoyed, Twilight tried doubling the strength of the spell again, sweat beginning to bead on her brow with effort, only to be again met with no result.
Okay, who’s doing that? she thought, noting that Popov was now watching her glare at a sandwich with some concern.
That depends, the response came, Do you want to try again, or is that your limit?
I could go higher, maybe twice as high again, Twilight replied, but at this point it’s a lot easier to just ask Popov or Santiago to tape cutlery to my hooves. 
There was silence in her mindscape for a moment. Alright, I’ll tell Marquez to stop, another voice replied, I think the point was demonstrated well enough.
And that was? Twilight asked.
That inhibitor works, another voice replied, at least well enough that we can lock you down. Combined with your performance when you met Moreau, and the fact that the eight of us managed to break into your mind in the first place, I think we’ve proven that XCOM isn’t threatened because of you.
Sure, a more familiar voice continued, let’s go on evidence obtained while it knows we’re watching, that won’t make it voluntarily lose at all.
Twilight’s heart dipped a little. This whole lunch break had become an exercise in paranoia. Is there anything I can do to convince you that I’m not here to cause trouble? she asked the still wary soldier.
Probably not, a different voice replied, at least not yet. For now I’d suggest you just get used to someone watching you while you sleep. And Jason? I trust you’re smart enough to realise that if it took eight of us to get in here and that inhibitor doesn’t work, she’ll crush you if you do anything brash by yourself, right?
Twilight could feel the man’s simmering anger, but he relented, Fine. I’m watching you, alien.
I’ll add you to the list, Twilight replied as his projection vanished, which earned an undertone of mirth from two of her visitors.
I think the rest of us agree that XCOM isn’t under any serious threat from you, Twilight, a last voice spoke, even if you are secretly against us. We’d like to ask you more later, but for now we’ll leave you to your lunch.
Thank you, Twilight replied before attempting to lift her sandwich again. This time it lifted easily into the air, and she finally got to sink her teeth into the toasted baguette, blissfully enjoying the crisp crunch of the peppers as she bit down. The mozzarella actually worked very well, lightly complementing the tang of the courgette.
Nutrient paste was pretty awful, the alicorn was reminded again.
“So, what was all that about? Glaring at a panini?” Santiago asked, already more than halfway through his own lunch.
Twilight swallowed and rolled her eyes slightly. “Impromptu trial by every psion in the room. Do you mind if I give you the brief version?” She held up the sandwich to emphasize, and Santiago nodded as she began to explain.

***

The cool air of the abductor ship’s bridge troubled only one of its occupants, the Sectoids manning the consoles undeterred by either the cold or the discussion between their superiors.
I lost all of them, the Found One admitted sorrowfully, eyes damp, they followed my instructions to the letter, and I failed them.
They understood the risk they faced, the Ethereal replied, and they followed you faithfully. You also secured a number of the enemy for study. Their deaths were not pointless.
But they shouldn’t have happened! The Found One cried, We should have won! We should have at least forced them to retreat! Eight against six, and they slaughtered us!
Our enemy is persistent and adapt quickly, the Ethereal replied, there is no perfect strategy against them. You underestimated them, but you will not do so again.
One of them had the Gift, the Found One noted.
The Ethereal remained silent.
You told me only truly intelligent beings could have the Gift, the Found One continued.
Their leaders were able to learn, the Ethereal reasoned, perhaps they can project their Gift through their soldiers.
The Found One frowned. Or perhaps their soldiers aren’t the mindless drones you told me they were? They fought defensively, and targeted key units.
What we feared most is coming to pass - they are beginning to uplift their soldier caste, the Ethereal explained. Our new allies confirmed this, but we did not think it could grant them the Gift.
What of our new friends, the Found One asked, what were their terms?
Resources. Technology. Knowledge, the Ethereal surmised. They betray their own kind for power, but we can make use of that. They are ready to begin their task, to give us room for ours.
The Found One was silent, again reminded of past mistakes as tears fell to the floor once more.
Go, the Ethereal commanded, rest. You will have opportunity to avenge them soon.
The Found One nodded, and left the ship’s bridge.
> 15:42, 28th February 2016 - Investigation and Introspection
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	15:42, 28th February 2016
“You’re sure about this?” Dr Richards asked. “Eight of our psions just attacked her without warning?”
“It’s what she told us,” Santiago confirmed, “although she didn’t use the word ‘attacked’.”
“‘Tested’ was mentioned once or twice,” Popov noted, the word hanging heavily in the quiet air of the base’s small library.
“Yes, well,” Dr Richards frowned, “I think the aliens have done enough of that sort of ‘testing’ to last us a century, we don’t need our own soldiers doing it.”
“You look after her medically, right?” Santiago asked, “I’m guessing she’s not normally that compliant?”
“Well…” Dr Richards thought silently for a moment. “Twilight’s never really resisted any of the procedures I’ve undergone with her, even before she started speaking, but she’s definitely not willing to let us do anything to her. Numerous interviews have shown her to have a distaste for exactly this sort of thing…”
“Do you think she might have been affected by them?” Popov suggested.
“I couldn’t say, I’m no psychologist,” the veterinary biologist replied, “but it is counter to her prior behaviour. We need to tell Dr Vahlen about this, at any rate. Would you two be willing to tell her the same as you’ve told me?”
Both soldiers agreed, and the scientist led them towards the research labs.


***


The head of research became increasingly agitated as the story was relayed to her. It had started with concerned frowning, which was to be expected. This had given way to annoyed frowning, and then outright angry frowning. After both soldiers had finished their explanation, she uttered only a quiet “Follow me,” before silently leading the three men out of the room and towards the barracks (abandoning her input on a proposal to trial variant medikits that included stimulants similar to those emitted by some soldiers modified with Berserker genetic material in doing so). They found Officer Bradford discussing the fireteam standby rota for the next month with one of the administrative staff.
“Officer Bradford!” Dr Vahlen shouted as she entered, causing both men to jump as she put her dataslate down on the table quite firmly. “Just what do your psions think they are allowed to do to Miss Sparkle?”
Bradford quickly got to his feet to be at eye level with the head of research as he asked, “Why, what’s happened?”
Dr Vahlen looked pointedly at the two soldiers she had escorted, of whom Santiago spoke first. “Some of them attacked her at lunch, sir,” he explained. “According to Twilight, eight of them managed to overpower her with psionics and started rifling through her memories. She convinced them to stop long enough for one of them to explain what they were looking for.”
“They thought Miss Sparkle had yourself, Dr Vahlen and Dr Shen controlled, sir,” Popov continued, “and were looking for her memories of doing so. They also induced paralysis in her body and later interfered with her eating, to test whether or not the inhibitor she wears functions correctly.”
Bradford nodded as he listened. “Who were these eight psions?” he asked.
“We don’t know sir,” Santiago admitted, “the only name Twilight mentioned was someone named Jason.”
The CO frowned. “Jason Jones makes sense, but dragging seven others in with him… and you’re saying this happened in the canteen? Today?” He crossed his arms as Santiago gave the time it happened, before continuing, “There isn’t enough space for all eight of their squads in the canteen, being there alone would make them stand out, and only two of them were meant to be in there at that time.” He turned to Dr Vahlen again, “Our psions do need to be able to see a target to affect it, don’t they?”
“Under normal circumstances, yes,” Dr Vahlen replied, “though this is only because sight is the easiest way to make a psion aware of their target. It’s possible, if this were a pre-arranged attack, that any psions not supposed to be in the canteen could extend their minds to a soldier who were heading there before they entered, and made use of their awareness to target Twilight. If they worked through another trained psion, they would suffer very little loss in their mental strength.”
“Piggy-backing off of another soldier…” Bradford mused for a moment, before replying, “But the other psions would need to be close to the canteen, if not directly in it, to maintain awareness of their contact, correct?”
“No,” the head of research answered, “As long as they established the connection within visual range, their contact could then move further away with no penalty - their psionic connection maintains their awareness. It’s the same reason a soldier can send a mind-controlled alien to scout ahead of the rest of the squad.”
Bradford looked back to the two soldiers. “And you two can confirm this yourselves, not just from Miss Sparkle’s information?”
“She became agitated, collapsed, and nearly went into a fit of some sort,” Santiago explained, “no denying that. I couldn’t tell you what was going on inside her head, obviously, but her struggling to lift a sandwich looked real enough.”
“And that couldn’t be just a result of her inhibitor?” Bradford asked.
“After the way she was aiming her training gun around, pulled mine out of my hands, then pulled a grenade pin from my chest? No, I wouldn’t think so,” the soldier responded.
“Officer Bradford,” Dr Vahlen spoke up, “a group of soldiers under your command have abused their psionic powers, mentally assaulted X-014-1, intruded in her personal memories, attempted to take control of her body, and restricted her autonomy, all in a pre-planned attack. Please tell me they did not have your authorisation to do so, and that you will be properly investigating and delivering punishment to these soldiers for aggression to both a member of foreign royalty and a highly valuable test subject!”
“I had hoped our psions would be more understanding, given Sergeant Murray’s involvement in Miss Sparkle’s testing,” Officer Bradford explained with a somewhat sorry tone to his voice. “Apparently even our best will require a little more convincing than that. I’ll begin looking into the situation immediately.”
“Thank you, Officer,” Dr Vahlen replied, picking up her dataslate again and beginning to tap away at it. “You three, follow me again,” she ordered Santiago, Popov and Richards as she left the room, “I need you to give the same report to X-014-1’s psychiatric health officer.”
“I… didn’t think you’d appointed her one, Ma’am?” Dr Richards asked as he kept pace behind the head of research’s brisk walk.
“I am about to,” Dr Vahlen replied simply.


***


“Let me make sure I’m understanding this right,” Dr Dysart said once the two soldiers had finished their explanation, “she did try to defend herself, but then believed they had sufficient reason to distrust her in retrospect?”
“Basically, yes,” Santiago replied.
“And this doesn’t conform with her prior behaviour?” the psychologist continued, turning to Dr Richards.
“Not exactly,” the vet replied. “Twilight has never been hostile, but I think she’d normally be willing to defend herself.”
“Given her explanations of some of her previous exploits during our second interview, I have to say I agree with Dr Richards,” Dr Vahlen added.
Dr Dysart rubbed his chin in thought. “Well, there are two likely explanations that I can see. Either the psions who attacked her changed something in her mind while they were there, which you’d need to determine, Ma’am,” he nodded to Dr Vahlen.
“I’m planning to perform another neural scan of Miss Sparkle and compare it to our earlier results,” Dr Vahlen noted. “If we find significant differences, we’ll call her attention to the possibility.”
Dysart nodded. “Other than that, it’s possible that Miss Sparkle has developed, or is developing, Stockholm Syndrome, likely due to recent privileges being granted in place of an earlier lack of consideration.”
Dr Vahlen was quiet for a moment. “Would you explain your reasoning for us please, doctor?”
“Certainly,” Dr Dysart replied, “Stockholm Syndrome is, at its core, the empathic attachment of a captive to their captor, often developing due to perceived kindness on the captor’s part, usually through the alleviation of restrictions, and the overlooking of the captor’s role in applying those restrictions. In the original Stockholm bank robbery, for example, one hostage thought it kind that she was allowed to walk around the bank wearing a noose to prevent her escape, so that she didn’t suffer claustrophobia in the vault with the other prisoners.”
“So, how does this relate to Twilight?” Dr Richards asked.
“Simple. For the first month of her being here, Miss Sparkle was kept as a specimen to be studied. She was tested harshly and kept isolated. In the last week, she has been allowed to move about the base, albeit only while wearing an inhibitor device. The parallel there should be clear enough,” the psychologist noted, “but Miss Sparkle has also been receiving more informal and friendly contact, better food, and is awaiting having her own bunk granted. Let’s not forget that she has seen a number of XCOM operations from Sergeant Murray’s perspective,” he went on. “Twilight understands as well as he does that XCOM has killed nearly every alien it encounters, yet we have not done the same to her, instead taking measures to ensure her safety in some instances.”
“I’m sure her experience with the Thin Man only helped justify both courses of action,” Dr Vahlen noted.
Dysart nodded. “Twilight is likely now in the position where she feels that it is rational for XCOM and its operatives to treat her with suspicion, due to her non-human status, psionic abilities, and because we simply don’t understand her fully. She has found a sense of normality in being treated as both a captive and a potential threat, and is now empathising with us not only due to our previous hardships against the aliens, but also due to our efforts to make her captivity more comfortable.”
“But how does that change what happened in the canteen? They attacked her, for crying out loud!” Santiago protested.
“In an organised, concerted effort,” the psychologist noted, “and all with a clear goal in mind, that matches with two of the reasons previously outlined: fear of her psionic power, and a desire to understand her better. That they ceased direct assault when prompted and left her alone after their ‘tests’ were completed likely doesn’t help. Stockholm Syndrome develops as survival self-conditioning, and here it worked; she complied, and they relented.”
“So, what can we do?” Dr Richards asked. “We can’t exactly let Twilight out of the base and leave her alone.”
“Under the circumstances, it would be difficult to create a firm counter to the situation. However, the core of Stockholm Syndrome is one of control, in this situation that we control Miss Sparkle and that failure to comply with our control will result in punishment,” Dr Dysart explained. “We must therefore try to dispel this illusion; Twilight must remain within the base, yes, but she should be free to act within it as any member of staff or visitor might. It may also help if she were exposed to opinions of the aliens other than our own.”
“Given her exposure to the aliens’ intent from their own perspective, I can’t see her developing any sympathy for them,” Dr Vahlen noted.
“Are there even any alien sympathisers out there? I mean, human ones?” Popov asked.
“Doubtful, but give it five years,” Dysart sighed, “there’ll be something online. In the meantime, perhaps you could ask Twilight if there has ever been a similar incident wherever she calls home, and how it was handled there? Otherwise, I suggest making it clear to Twilight that today’s event was not an official XCOM action, and that no member of staff has the authority to enter her mind or physically touch her without permission. Give her back control of herself, if nothing else.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Dr Vahlen said with a nod, “I’d like to assign you to be Miss Sparkle’s personal psychiatrist, to monitor her mental health and counsel her when necessary.”
“Of course,” Dysart accepted, “just tell her where my office is. I’ll need to conduct a preliminary interview with her, but I’ll let her set the time for it.”
Dr Vahlen turned and left the other three visitors to say their own thanks, starting to feel uneasy about her decisions.


***


“I have to say, I am disappointed,” Officer Bradford addressed the room at large. “As I understand, at twelve-fifteen hours, eight of you psionically assaulted and overpowered a non-hostile visitor, who has been fitted with such restraints as to be unable to pose a threat to anyone. Would any of you care to explain what provoked such bullying?”
The fourteen soldiers, XCOM’s active psionic operative core in its entirety, stood at ease before the officer. They all remained silent.
“You are XCOM’s best soldiers, possessed of abilities that require you to act with self-restraint. You are not meant to flagrantly abuse that power to satisfy your own curiosity!”
“With respect, sir,” Sergeant Vinogradov spoke up, “I believe we all had concerns for XCOM’s security, not just curiosity regarding X-014-1.”
“Is that so, Sergeant?” Bradford asked pointedly. “Would you care to explain what these concerns were?” He knew what Twilight had said earlier, of course, but it was best to have both sides of the story.
“I can’t speak for the other persons involved, sir, but personally I was worried that X-014-1 might have psionically manipulated yourself, Dr Vahlen or Dr Shen, especially regarding the psionic inhibitor it now wears,” the sergeant explained, still stood at ease and looking directly ahead. “Originally I simply intended to provoke a response from X-014-1 and see if it was able to retaliate, but finding it already under assault by others I elected to review its recent memories to look for evidence of it manipulating yourself, Dr Vahlen or Dr Shen.”
Officer Bradford was silent for a moment, trying to determine what was the more pressing issue in his mind. “I’m trusting you had a backup plan in the event that Miss Sparkle could and did retaliate?”
“Yes sir,” Vinogradov admitted, “Corporal Ward was nearby with an Arc Thrower. They have previously proven effective against X-014-1 while it was involved in a psionic struggle.”
“Corporal Ward brought a live weapon into the canteen?” Bradford asked.
“...A live, non-lethal weapon, sir,” Vinogradov noted.
“Were the rest of your squad involved?” Bradford pressed.
“Corporal Hashim had planned to give overwatch, but it was decided that taking a more lethal weapon from the armory would be too extreme,” Vinogradov admitted. “No other member of my squad was directly involved in the incident.”
Bradford nodded, making a mental note to add disciplinary action for Cpl Ward to the investigation. “Does anyone else have something they want to admit?” Bradford prompted.
“I was involved as well, sir,” Lieutenant Erikssen confessed. “I had concerns regarding the validity of X-014-1’s claims regarding it being unrelated to the other aliens we have encountered, and wanted to question it via psionic contact, since psionic conversation makes it more difficult to hide emotion and associated knowledge. I operated alone, and I believe I was the first to attempt contact with X-014-1.”
“You do know that Dr Vahlen came to the conclusion that Miss Sparkle is unrelated to the other aliens by her own research?” Bradford knew this wasn’t entirely true, but the head scientists had been beginning to have suspicions.
“I… actually did not, sir,” Erikssen admitted.
Officer Bradford sighed. “Let me make this clear to all of you,” he spoke, “X-014-1 is completely unrelated to any other alien we’ve encountered so far. She has volunteered to side with us of her own volition. She has not demonstrated any willingness or capability to use her psionic abilities to mind control members of staff, and if she had done so, she wouldn’t even be wearing the inhibitor.”
“She would still need a mock-up made to appear to comply with the Council policy though, wouldn’t she, sir?” Sergeant Vinogradov pointed out.
Officer Bradford gave him a deadpan look. “Sergeant, do you really believe that the Council has a policy on letting aliens with psionic powers, which we only learned could exist eight months ago, walk freely around the base?” The room was silent for a moment. “The Council’s policy specifically states that any alien that does not demonstrate hostile intent does not need to be restrained outside of containment, and does not specify anything more than that.”
“Wait, sir,” Corporal Jason Jones spoke, “you’re saying that it doesn’t actually need to wear that thing?”
“Not to uphold Council policy, no,” Bradford confirmed. “Sparkle herself is unaware of this fact, and from this point forward you’re all under orders not to tell her, in case she convinces Dr Vahlen or Dr Shen that she doesn’t need it on any more.”
“You actually... don’t trust her, sir?” Lieutenant Erikssen asked.
“I trust her to not try anything until she’s at her full capabilities,” Bradford replied, “especially not when she can be overpowered by a single psion. But the point is, she believes that I do fully trust her and am merely complying with restrictive legislation until I can have it changed to accommodate her better. What we do not need is half of the soldiers who stand to benefit from her compliance openly attacking her and causing her to lose trust in us, in the middle of a crowded room. Do I need to remind everyone what happened to Captain Pimenova when she attacked Miss Sparkle?”
“No, sir,” the three soldiers spoke in unison.
“Because everyone involved in this incident just risked that happening to the entire lunchroom, not just yourselves. Three whole squads, eight of Dr Vahlen’s team, thirteen engineers and technicians, and potentially all of our kitchen staff too. I’ll let that sink in for a moment.”
“I’m… not sure I understand, sir,” Lieutenant Erikssen said, “those people weren’t in direct contact with the alien’s mind.”
Officer Bradford sighed. “Even Dr Vahlen’s earliest findings showed that Miss Sparkle’s abilities primarily affect the physical world around her. She nearly took Red Six apart when we first encountered. Red Six, one of our most experienced and capable squads, fully armed and equipped. If she could handle them, she could easily handle ten times their number of unarmed, unaware and off-duty personnel. You were testing to see if the inhibitor was working; did you even consider who you were putting at risk if it wasn’t, and X-014-1 decided the game was up?”
The room was stunned to silence for a moment.
“Combine that with insubordination, risk of damage to valuable research material, misuse of transhuman capabilities, and conspiracy to attack what is essentially a foreign diplomat…” Bradford crossed his arms over his chest. “The other five of you involved in this incident can step forward now, or all fourteen of you are on disciplinary, and I won’t be any kinder to you for sharing.”
Five other soldiers stepped forward, along with the three who had already spoken.
“Good. The eight of you are hereby removed from combat duty for a month, required to wear psionic inhibitors inside the base for three months, and will be spending your free hours giving the sanitation staff some time off until Miss Sparkle tells me that it’s excessive. Those of you awaiting genetic modification procedures can also consider yourselves moved to the back of the queue. And all of you, be glad that Dr Vahlen left me to administer punishment - anything like this happens again, and I’ll be asking her for suggestions. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes Sir!” all eight soldiers said in unison, a note of trepidation in most of their voices.
“Good. All of you are dismissed to your duties, those who need mops and buckets can speak to the quartermaster. Report to engineering tomorrow morning for inhibitor calibration. Dismissed.” With that, the CO turned and left the room.


***


Twilight Sparkle sat on the bed in her cell, in quiet contemplation.
Dr Vahlen had visited maybe ten minutes ago, and informed her of her findings involving lunchtime’s… attack.
She had been attacked, and had been unable to defend herself. The fact that everyone had been concerned with how unconcerned she had been about it did concern her, so she had listened. The scientist's description of Stockholm Syndrome sounded almost bizarre - it would be like if she had started to agree with Discord, or if Cadance had started to agree with Chrysalis.
Except, Twilight rationalised, Discord had actively tormented her and did so for less than a day, and Chrysalis had already done the single worst thing she could to Cadance by imitating her and deluding Shining. The alicorn really didn't want to think about how far that had gone, but she couldn’t see her sister-in-law sympathising with the changeling regardless.
But then, magic worked differently here. It wasn't based on life energy, it was based on emotional energy. Did that mean that emotions worked differently, perhaps making things like Stockholm Syndrome possible by a person’s innate psionics trying to defend them? It didn't always happen to humans, after all, and similarly not every human had psionic potential…
Twilight shook her head - she was jumping to conclusions. The sensible thing to do was test for what she could determine before conjecturing what she couldn’t; notably, she should be looking to see if the attack had addled her thoughts at all.
Twilight’s personal inhibitor was removed while she was in her cell, since she was instead within the damping field. That technically made the next exercise harder, since the damping field affected all psionics and magic, while the inhibitor let her affect her own mind with no extra difficulty. Still, she knew she could cast this spell now, since she had done the same when she had removed Cameron’s memories from her mind.
The alicorn looked up from her bed sheets, instead focusing on the two lab technicians sat at the consoles across the chamber her cell was in. Catching the eyes of one of them, she waved, before pointing a hoof at her horn, then at her own chest. He nodded, before flicking a switch on one of the consoles (the one that recorded her psionic signal output) and went back to his conversation with the other technician.
Again, Twilight questioned the policy that prevented the speakers in her cell from being used outside of testing. At least she’d managed to get her point across.
Her horn lit, and the alicorn felt her mindscape open up around her conscious thoughts again. It was meant to look like a tidy, organised library, cataloguing and classifying her memories and knowledge for easy reference. Twilight grimaced as she saw the state of it now, with connections between her memories twisted, frayed, stretched and, in a few instances, torn, but was pleased to note that the proper structure she had created for them was still there. The filing cabinet had been emptied and rifled through, but the folders were still there, so to speak.
As Twilight began to re-organise her experiences and repair the damage, she noted that it was mostly limited to her more recent memories; her experiences since being found by XCOM. The initial encounter was blurred, due to both her own confusion throughout and a few days' sedation preventing her from organising it before it deteriorated, but the rest of it was understandable. A good deal of the damage was centered around her extended interview with Dr Vahlen and Officer Bradford, and her encounters with Sergeant Murray. Both quite clearly showed no foul play on her part, and yet they still hadn’t trusted her.
Twilight frowned as she finished correcting those memories’ connections, and looked around for more. One of them had gone looking through her earlier memories, it seemed, and had come across her first time attending the Summer Sun Celebration. Thankfully, the connections were less strained and more like simply dislodged, but the most tested one seemed to be the one that linked to her memories of Princess Celestia.
Twilight’s heart panged as she thought of the elder alicorn, who’d smiled when she perfected a new spell, who’d comforted her when she’d cried that she wouldn’t see her brother while he was at boot camp, who’d encouraged her to try harder whenever she began to doubt herself.
Clearing her throat and trying to ignore the feeling of homesickness setting in, Twilight carefully fitted the connections around her memories of her mentor back into place, only to find one which didn’t fit. Curious, she followed it, only to find it attached to a point of knowledge, a definition to be exact.
Fear.
Twilight blinked, a little shocked. That didn’t make sense. She wasn’t afraid of Celestia, why would she be? The princess had never been anything but kind, caring, gentle, and… well, maybe not always honest, given some of her reasons for sending her student to Ponyville, but certainly reasonable.
The alicorn went to sever the connection, guessing that it had been put there by one of her attackers trying to implicate her somehow, before stopping. She focused on the concept of fear she had found, and discovered that it had only one other connection. That alone gave Twilight the impression that this was a distinct sense of fear - notably, not her own, since she had a lot more connotations, synonyms, and memories of fear than this single connection would imply, but that of the psion who’d made that connection. It was a very poor attempt at manipulating her by altering her mind, really.
Curious, she checked the other connection this sense of fear had, to find a definition, which also linked back to her memories of Celestia; Retaliation.
Twilight thought about this for a moment. This didn’t look like an attempt to manipulate her any more, this looked like a panic response. The psion had seen something of Celestia in Twilight’s memories that had made them panic, and had accidentally copied their own fear of the elder alicorn into Twilight’s mindscape. And apparently, they were afraid of Celestia coming after them.
Twilight erased the two concepts and their connections as she continued to think. The psion had known or believed that what they were doing, or what XCOM was doing, would be enough to cause Celestia to take action against them should she arrive here. They knew they were in the wrong.
So why had she defended them?
With her memories fully organised again, Twilight reflected on how she felt about the paramilitary organisation that had her captive. She was a little surprised to find that even after reorganising her memories, she still felt mostly positive about them - they continuously risked their lives to protect an entire planet from a superior, hostile alien menace, much like she had risked herself to stop Nightmare Moon, Discord or King Sombra.
Except Nightmare Moon and Discord hadn’t been killed by laser fire for what they did. Admittedly, what they did was less horrific than what the Ethereals had been doing to humanity, but that still made it hard to justify killing all of them, especially when they had quickly become capable of capturing hostile aliens instead.
Much like they had done to her, which to be fair made a lot of sense. Twilight frowned in confusion, her muzzle scrunched up a little. Thinking through it, she had a lot of respect for what XCOM did, but she should still be upset by what they did to her. Especially since they didn’t have a valid reason to do so beyond simple paranoia.
Paranoia born of what she did to Captain Pimenova. Twilight let the frustration go with a sigh; she was potentially extremely dangerous to XCOM, and they had to account for that. That wasn’t going to change now, especially not with Council policies in place, but she seemed to have earned their trust so far. The sensible thing to do was to sit tight, continue to be trustworthy, and hope that Officer Bradford could get the Council's policy rewritten so that she didn’t have to wear the inhibitor around the base.
Twilight’s head flopped to the bed, the frown returning to her brow. Now she was defending them again. Nightmare Moon had been bad. Discord had been bad. XCOM weren’t bad; they were just distrustful, and Twilight didn't know how to feel about that. Should she dislike them, even though she understood why they did this to her? Should she like them for why, even though it was almost painful being held captive like this? Maybe she should make an appointment with Dr Dysart, if only to get a second opinion on what she was feeling.
At the very least, she knew that surprise tests weren’t a thing here. And she may have found something with which to deter future attacks...
> 15:42, 28th February 2016 - Non-Canon April Fools 2016 Extravaganza Version
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	15:42, 28th February 2016
“You’re sure about this?” Dr Richards asked, “eight of our psions just attacked her without warning?”
“It’s what she told us,” Santiago confirmed, “although she didn’t use the word ‘attacked’.”
“‘Tested’ was mentioned once or twice,” Popov noted, the word hanging heavily in the quiet air of the base’s small library.
“Yes, well,” Dr Richards frowned, “I think the aliens have done enough of that sort of ‘testing’ to last us a century, we don’t need our own soldiers doing it.”
“You look after her medically, right?” Santiago asked, “I’m guessing she’s not normally that compliant?”
“Well…” Dr Richards thought silently for a moment. “Twilight’s never really resisted any of the procedures I’ve undergone with her, even before she started speaking, but she’s definitely not willing to let us do anything to her. Numerous interviews have shown her to have a distaste for exactly this sort of thing…”
“Do you think she might have been affected by them?” Popov suggested.
“I couldn’t say, I’m no psychologist,” the veterinary biologist replied, “but it is counter to her prior behaviour. We need to tell Dr Vahlen about this, at any rate. Would you two be willing to tell her the same as you’ve told me?”
Both soldiers agreed, and the scientist led them towards the research labs.

***

The head of research became increasingly agitated as the story was relayed to her. It had started with concerned frowning, which was to be expected. This had given way to annoyed frowning, and then outright angry frowning. After both soldiers had finished their explanation, she uttered only a quiet “Follow me,” before silently leading the three men out of the room and towards Mission Control (abandoning her input on a proposal to trial variant medikits that included stimulants similar to those emitted by some soldiers modified with Berserker genetic material in doing so).
“Officer Bradford!” Dr Vahlen shouted as she entered, drawing most of the room’s attention.
“Can this wait, doctor?” Bradford replied, not looking away from the large screen before him, “We’ve just encountered a new alien, and Strike One is having a little difficulty capturing it for you.”
“That’s very considerate of you,” Dr Vahlen replied tersely as she stepped up next to the CO, “but you need to hear about what your psions have been-”
“Hold on a second,” Dr Richards said, pointing at the viewscreen, “Does that snake have boobs?”
“It seems so, yes,” Officer Bradford replied tiredly, “and you’re not the first to notice.”
“Is it weird if I like this?” Popov asked, glancing around the room.
“Okay, that is just dumb,” Dr Richards continued, “reptiles don’t have mammary glands, because they don’t have live young. Why would a giant snake need them?”
“Maybe they’re venom sacs or something?” Santiago suggested.
“It has spat poison at our troops,” Bradford admitted.
Richards threw his hands upwards. “Oh, and they just happen to be on its chest, sure!”
“Central, this is Lieutenant King,” an australian accented voice came over the comms system, “I’ve got Lewis’s Arc Thrower, moving in to- Agh! It’s got mphmmmphphm!”
“This gives me the weirdest feeling,” Popov commented, watching as the reptilian alien coiled around the soldier on screen.
“Oh, wow,” Dr Richards said with a roll of his eyes, “so it’s got venom and it’s a constrictor. So realistic.”
“You might want to instruct your men to use a little more caution, Central,” Dr Vahlen commented, “This alien seems to have a particular aptitude for fighting at…”
Officer Bradford nodded, as he put on a pair of aviator sunglasses. “Close Range.”
> Operation: Dark Mirror
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	10:12, 1st March 2016
The Ethereal hung silently in the bridge of the spacecraft, the heavy helmet atop its robes turned towards the display before it. The ship’s control room was surprisingly empty, with only a single Sectoid dutifully monitoring the controls.
Two thundering footsteps followed by the electric sound of the blue screen of light covering the entrance dissolving signalled the arrival of a Muton. The Ethereal turned to witness this, and noted the presence of the Found One alongside the guard. Good. The Found One approached as the Muton stepped sideways, taking up position beside the door and waiting.
It always surprises me, the Found One messaged while walking towards the Ethereal, how a room so full of lights can be so dimly lit.
The Ethereal did not turn to consider the holographic displays and glowing stripes around the ship’s bridge. You are more cheerful, it observed.
The Found One nodded. I have rested well, the reply came. Do I have a mission?
No, the Ethereal replied, we thought you may wish to witness this. Our newfound ally is about to make their presence known.
They have moved quickly, the Found One noted, stepping towards the display with interest. So we see how our enemy would fight themselves, with no risk to our own forces.
With little risk, the Ethereal corrected. Our ally requested that we give reason for our common enemy to arrive.
So we provide the bait, the Found One noted with distaste. This had better be worth it.

***

“Listen up, Strike One,” Officer Bradford’s voice sounded over the Skyranger’s radio, “A small group of hostiles has been reported by a local security force in Cape Town, South Africa, on a pier in the docks. No abductions have taken place yet, but we’ve got MELD signature readings from the site. They’ve tried to affect water supplies before, so we aren’t taking any chances. Eliminate all hostiles, recover the MELD, and stay on station to protect the investigation team the Council is putting together to find out what they’re up to.”
“Do we have a crew roster for the vessel responsible, Sir?” Sergeant Kozlov queried.
“We’re not receiving any signals on the Relay from the area. Eyewitness reports are limited to Sectoids and Floaters, but keep your eyes open.”
“LZ in sight, touching down,” the pilot’s voice filtered in. “The pier is too densely built up, I’m going to drop you off in a yard nearby.”
Fireteam Oscar donned their helmets silently as the Skyranger landed. The whole team was equipped with a heavier variant of Carapace armour, for all-around protection and better resistance to flying shrapnel and debris. It was designed specifically for fighting in built-up areas such as the pier ahead, but also made fast-roping from the Skyranger dangerous due to the increased weight.
“Copy that, Big Sky,” Kozlov confirmed. “Strike One, we’re heading south towards the pier. Barnes, take point. Cho, follow him up.” ‘Cobra’ Barnes simply nodded as he moved ahead, scatter laser in hand.
Cho’s rifle swept the narrow road between the first two buildings on the dock as the squad wordlessly crept into it. ‘Dozer’ Bryant’s grunting under the weight of all his equipment, along with the heavy clatter of the squad’s armour, kept them from being perfectly silent.
“Bryant, I still don’t get it,” Ajram whispered through his helmet’s radio, “you could get muscle density gene mods to help with all that. Half the rest of us have them just for our armour, you’ve got a rocket launcher to carry around on top of that.”
“Can’t,” Dozer grunted. “Hate needles. Strong enough anyway.”
“Good thing the medikits are a spray, then,” Ajram quipped, only to be shushed by Kozlov.
The squad passed the first pair of buildings, taking a moment to sweep the gap between them. This second step of alleyway was a little wider, with a fire escape running down the outside of the left building. The right one seemed to be still under construction, the upper level unfinished and a tall crane looming over it from the opposite side. Mancini, the squad’s sniper, held a hand up. The squad paused, waiting for a few moments in utter silence.
“Mancini?” the squad leader prompted.
The sniper shook his head. “Thought I heard talking.”
Kozlov considered this. “Alien chatter?” he asked.
Mancini drew breath to reply, only for a definite *click* to cut him short. Kozlov turned to track the noise, spotting a door into the building on the left of the two they were about to walk between. The Ukrainian quietly held up three fingers of his left hand, held the hand palm down over his head, and placed it back on his weapon. Barnes followed close behind as he began walking towards the door, the rest of the squad moving into cover as a precaution.
Kozlov tested the door handle and found it unlocked. He twisted it, scanning the revealed and dark room with his rifle’s flashlight as the door opened. Crates and metal drums were stacked throughout the room, which had a high roof but a first-story gantry running around the edge. The sergeant hesitated; there could be a hundred things in here that might make a click.
“Barnes, thoughts?” he whispered.
The assault glanced around the warehouse. “Metal sheets lashed to the walkways’ railings seem a bit suspect,” he noted.
“Poor man’s repair work?” Kozlov suggested.
“How poor?” Barnes asked, a little skeptical.
“South Africa,” Kozlov answered. Barnes was probably frowning at him now, but didn’t speak up.
The walkway creaked as something moved on it. Barnes’ weapon was sweeping the room in an instant, Kozlov’s a little behind.
“We’re not alone in here,” the leader whispered into his radio. “Bryant and Cho, other end of the buildings. Mancini and Ajram, fire escape. Keep quiet.” 
A few hushed ‘Yes sirs’ followed.
A second passed.
Barnes stepped up behind a big crate, his scatter laser still pointed up at the walkway.
A duller creaking of metal entered through the wall.
The radio whispered twice.
“Macini, in position.”
“Ajram, in position.”
Kozlov nodded. “Ajram, ready a smoke,” he ordered.
Two seconds passed.
“Cho, in position,” the radio whispered again.
Bryant would be a little slower, of course.
One second.
Two.
Th-*CRACK*
Kozlov swung to face the door as Bryant began shouting over the radio. Apart from the panicking heavy, everything was silent for a moment.
“Sir!” Barnes yelled, firing his weapon at the walkway. Kozlov had enough time to turn and see a human figure stood up from behind the metal sheeting before ducking for cover, as the concrete floor behind him was pockmarked with heavy gunfire.
“Hostiles!” Ajram’s voice came over the radio, accompanied by the sound of more gunfire coming through the wall. “Lots of hostiles, in the other building!”
“First floor, this building!” Barnes replied.
“Ajram, Macini, in here and off that walkway!” Kozlov ordered, shuffling sideways to behind a new crate as the previous one began to splinter. The upstairs fire escape was kicked open, and a narrow red beam of light came through, striking the gunner. He and his machine gun hit the walkway, only for the sergeant to notice another two men with assault rifles. “Barnes! Your flank!”
The assault span around, taking another hasty shot as the man on the walkway behind him took aim. The laser blast missed, and the return fire of the assailant’s assault rifle struck Barnes across the torso and head.
Ajram ran onto the walkway, pausing to fire a snap shot at the man as Kozlov took a more careful shot. Both managed to hit, and the man dropped, his skin blackened and his clothes smouldering.
“Still up,” Barnes grunted, now ducked behind his ample cover, “no armour penetration.”
“Cho, Bryant, what’s happening?” Kozlov shouted into his helmet’s microphone.
“Cho, in combat, rear of building!” the answer came, “Maybe six hostiles, ground level and-”
“Rocket!” Mancini shouted on the radio as he jumped into the room. Everyone within ducked as the wall exploded, bits of bricks flying into the room and smashing against crates and floors as the missile hit the fire escape outside. The sniper fell to the ground as the walkway beneath him buckled under the pressure and heat, grabbing onto the railing to prevent himself falling into the newly-made hole. The last attacker in the room took his chance to fire a spray of shots at the marksman, his assault rifle chattering.
“Barnes, take that guy out!” Kozlov shouted, the radio letting him be heard over the now roaring fire. “Bryant, report!”
“They’re everywhere!” the heavy shouted in reply. “Get me outta here!”
“Cho, moving to support!” the radio crackled as Barnes broke cover and began sprinting towards a nearby ladder. “Hostiles on the opposite roof an- gah!”
“Cho!?” Kozlov shouted, firing his rifle at the attacker on the walkway. The man ducked behind his cover, giving Barnes time to scramble up the ladder.
“Sniper on the crane!” the riflewoman replied. “Missed me, but I can’t get to Bryant!”
Mancini’s pistol sounded, three distinct cracks as he quickly retreated away from the hole in the wall now that he’d got to his feet. The man on the walkway stayed sat in cover as the shots hit the wall overhead, before standing to take aim with his rifle. Instead, the stock of Barnes’ scatter laser met his chin and knocked him sprawling, before the assault grabbed the Arc Thrower off of his hip and zapped the man with it. “Hostile pacified, thanks Mancini. You alright?”
“Bruised like a prune, but I’ll live,” the sniper replied, watching Ajram fire at a target through the wide hole in the wall. “Bryant, calm down; they’re using conventional ballistic rounds, zero armour penetration.”
“You sure?” the heavy’s voice came through, sounding hesitant.
“Mancini, cover him. Barnes, move to support Cho,” Kozlov ordered, “I’m moving back out the door to cover Bryant.”
There were a handful of affirmatives before the squad moved, Mancini edging closer to the hole in the wall as Barnes swung himself over the walkway’s edge and dropped to the ground floor. He and Kozlov kicked open the doors on opposite ends of the building at the same time, stepping outside to support. Ajram’s rifle fired again, and a man fell from the opposite building, the striped bandana covering his face falling loose.
“Oh God!” Bryant shouted as the body hit the ground a stone’s throw away from him, “These guys aren’t fully human!”
“Copy that,” Ajram concurred, “it’s taking two shots to kill. These guys are tougher than just flesh and blood.”
“Central, this is Strike One, we’re under fire from hostiles,” Kozlov reported into his helmet’s microphone as he aimed another shot, missing as his target ducked behind a bundle of concrete pipes. “Hostiles appear as unarmoured humans, but are significantly tougher, please advise.”
There was a shriek as Barnes’ scatter laser sounded again, out of the sergeant’s viewpoint. There was a brief pause before Cho’s rifle fired, its red beam striking the front of the building.
“Cho, see if you can get eyes on that sniper!” Kozlov shouted, “Barnes, hold your ground and keep Bryant covered! Central, Strike One under fire from human hostiles, please advise!”
A spray of bullets hit the ground besides Kozlov, and he flinched back behind the corner of the warehouse instinctively. Ajram’s rifle retorted, and Kozlov saw his attacker struck square in the chest by the beam, hunching over as his shirt caught fire and his skin blackened. The man dropped back behind the wall he was using for cover as another burst of gunfire sounded, accompanied by a loud yell from Bryant.
“I’m hit!” the heavy screamed. “Somebody get me outta here!”
“Sergeant, I’m going to get Bryant,” Barnes radioed in.
“No!” Kozlov shouted in response, “Hold position until Cho finds that sniper! Central, respond!”
“Got him!” Cho shouted as her rifle fired, before continuing, “Suppressing target. Barnes, move!”
Kozlov watched as Barnes ran into his field of view, heading for the panicking heavy as the sergeant scanned the opposite building for hostiles. “No targets spotted,” Ajram called in, matching Kozlov’s observation, “what are they-”
“Shoot!” Mancini called out, “footsteps! There’s someone on the roof, our side!”
Barnes quickly vaulted over the stack of steel drums Bryant had been using for cover as the heavy spun around, looking up at the warehouse’s roof. He didn’t yell. He didn’t scream. He didn’t so much as gasp, as a roar and a rushing of air drowned out all other noise.
The rocket slammed into the steel drums, cratering the tarmac beneath and sending metal slag flying. Kozlov ducked as the wave of heat rolled over him, before daring a glance at the alleyway again. Bryant and Barnes were both lying half-in the crater, and neither was moving.
Cho screamed something, firing her rifle at the rooftop. Ajram was yelling. Mancini wasn’t saying anything.
“Squad, hold it together!” Kozlov ordered, “Cho, keep that sniper covered! Ajram, medical, Mancini, cover him! I’m covering the roof!” With that, the sergeant stepped out into the alleyway, quickly turning and surveying the rooftop. The man on the roof was still there, but Cho’s shot had found its mark - he was badly burned, his launcher dropped, and he seemed to be trying to pull the machine gun strapped to his shoulder up with one hand. A second shot from Kozlov avenged the two XCOM soldiers.
“He’s moved!” Cho shouted, “I don’t see-” The support stopped talking as she yelled, accompanied by a sharp *CRACK*
“Cho, report!” Kozlov shouted, already running toward her position, his path taking him just past Ajram as the medic exited the warehouse.
“Hit bad, right shoulder,” Cho replied, sounding weaker than before, “He’s dropped onto the other roof!”
“I’ve got him!” Mancini shouted, the piercing whine of his charging rifle penetrating the air. The other sniper broke cover and ran along the rooftop as the italian fired, hitting him in the right shoulder in kind. The attacker dropped, hitting the bare concrete floor of the unfinished building as Mancini started charging his rifle again.
“Central, Strike One!” Kozlov radioed again. “We have been engaged by human hostiles and have two men down! Resp-” He cut off as more bullets rattled against his armour, still failing to penetrate. Ajram ducked too, before turning from the downed men he had been about to inspect and firing into the ground floor of the unfinished building. A gurgling cry and the clatter of a dropped weapon accompanied the sizzling sound of his laser rifle’s bloom.
Mancini’s rifle fired again, and the sniper radioed in the kill. Silence followed for a second, before Ajram spoke, “You think that’s all of them?”
“Hope so,” Cho replied, “otherwise I’m going to have to learn to shoot left-handed very fast.”
“Ajram, go patch her up,” Kozlov ordered, “We still have to…” He trailed off as another noise began, a low whirring sound somewhere distant.
“Helicopter,” Mancini shouted, “transport, black, no identifying marks. Taking off from a low rooftop, maybe four hundred metres north.”
“That’s not far from the Skyranger!” Kozlov shouted, “Squad, we need to get back there!”
Mancini countered, “Not sure about that, it’s flying away. Looks like there’s some kind of device inside it though, with some kind of dish on it. Do you-”
“-report! Big Sky, report!” Officer Bradford’s somewhat panicked voice cut across the radio channel.
“Big Sky, reporting in,” the Skyranger’s pilot replied, “Been sat in radio silence for twenty minutes, what gives?”
“Strike One, reporting,” Kozlov called in, “Mancini spotted an unmarked black transport helicopter carrying what may have been radio equipment leaving the area just now, four hundred metres north of our current position.”
There was a short pause. “Copy that Strike One,” Bradford replied, now sounding a lot more confident, “We’re tracking that helicopter now. We saw you engaged by hostiles, what happened?”
“Ambush,” Kozlov replied, “human or transhuman hostiles, armed with conventional ballistic weapons. Cho’s been injured by sniper fire and… we lost Barnes and Bryant. Enemy rocket. Unsure if we’re in good enough shape to tackle the aliens,” he explained.
“Negative, Strike One,” Bradford responded, “alien hostiles are no longer present at the site, as of fifteen minutes ago. Meld reserves will have self-detonated by this point. Return to the Skyranger before anything else shows up.”
“Copy that,” Kozlov replied, “Barnes managed to take one hostile captive before… well, we’re bringing him in.”
“Good, I’ll tell Dr Vahlen to have a chamber ready for him. I’m sure she’ll have some luck getting him to talk.”
Kozlov glanced at the two fallen soldiers nearby, their shredded armour turned black. “Couldn’t agree more, sir.”
“I’m going to grab that sniper’s rifle while you boys haul the bodies,” Cho spoke up. Kozlov turned to argue, but she held her good hand up and pointed at the broad hole in the other shoulder of her carapace. “Conventional ballistics can’t get through this armour, and besides, no sense letting me go back empty handed.”
“Ajram, cover her, then grab Bryant,” Kozlov replied simply, stowing his scatter laser and walking towards Barnes’ body. “Mancini, secure the hostile, then we all get back to the ship.” The squad called their affirmatives, and set to work.

***

Two kills, the Found One noted, and it cost them seven of their own.
It cost us nothing, the Ethereal noted.
True, but our newfound allies’ weapons didn’t seem to do much, the reply was critical. If they had the same weaponry we possess-
Out of the question, the Ethereal interrupted, they have not yet demonstrated the fullness of their intent. We cannot afford to have our weapons used against us.
The Found One thought for a moment, before nodding. I hope these creatures prove themselves better with time, then. Even if their soldiers are not intelligent, losing seven of them must have hurt their controller.
Our foe has been noted to cope poorly with loss, the Ethereal concurred, it would seem reasonable that our ally would act likewise.
Thicker armour for their soldiers might help, the Found One replied. Theirs seemed so flimsy compared to the enemy. Even during my own mission, their shells weren't that thick…
And they still managed to cause more permanent damage, the Ethereal noted, earning himself a glare. Do you feel you have learned anything that would help in your next endeavour?
I think so, the Found One replied, Our enemy will find that I learn very quickly.

***

Twilight watched as the Skyranger landed, stretchers and medical staff already waiting in the hangar. The dropship landed, and the rear ramp opened. The four live soldiers walked out first, the medical staff immediately flanking one of them in case she needed help standing. She was escorted through to the infirmary as the other three turned, watching as four men with two stretchers entered the Skyranger.
The alicorn’s throat tightened as they re-emerged, two armoured bodies lying on the stretchers. An order was given, and the three survivors, along with the other two fireteams who had been on standby, snapped to attention, saluting the fallen warriors. Silence reigned as the dropship’s engines shut down, and the stretchers were taken out of the hangar. Another order was given, and the salute ended, before the three survivors followed their injured comrade into the infirmary.
Twilight was silent as the attending personnel dispersed. This shouldn’t have happened. The war was meant to be over, which means the dying should have stopped.
She had another combat test tomorrow.
They needed to know what she could teach them to do.
> Test X: Psionics Adaptation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

09:47, 2nd March 2016

Twilight trotted into the armory stocked with mock weapons, flanked by two security personnel armed with very real ones. Also accompanying her was one of the research staff, a Doctor Chung, who had been reassigned to psionics experimentation recently. The alicorn was glad that they weren’t trying to disguise their actions with language, although some of the scientists had made a note that they were experimenting with her, not on her.

“Okay, Twilight,” Dr Chung said, almost surprisingly informally, “We’re giving you a little more wiggle room today. There was some talk of only going down to ninety per cent impedance, but I don’t think two-point-seven’s going to make much of a difference, even at your level of strength.”

“Well, it does impede my magic by a factor,” Twilight pointed out, “Two-point-seven now is a lot more than two-point-seven later.”

Chung considered this, and nodded. “Sure, but… well, last time was giving you an idea of what our soldiers have to face. Since you’re going to be teaching our psions how to do things, it makes sense to bring you up to their level now, so you know what they have to work with, right?”

“That makes- wait, I’m going to be up against something harder, aren’t I?” Twilight asked suspiciously.

Chung grinned, kneeling down to type on the device on the alicorn's back. “Setting impedance to eighty-five percent,” he stated, “I’ll give you five minutes to work out what you’re capable of before we begin.”

Twilight’s mind was racing. Last time the two men she’d been up against had had grenades that she hadn’t been told about. Giving her more capabilities likely meant whoever she was up against was similarly better equipped. Wasting no time, the alicorn quickly started test-firing utility spells that might help - she didn’t have enough strength for direct kinetic shots, but Chung was examining a training weapon, so that likely wouldn’t be a problem.

“Okay, you ready?” the doctor asked after the five minutes had passed. Twilight replied with a silent nod, and the doctor continued, “Right, we’re moving you up to twelve hit points today. Everyone else in the room is still on five, weapons still do the same damage.”

Twilight blinked. Everyone else?

“Mission start in five!” Deng announced, holding the rifle he’d been calibrating out for Twilight to take. She lifted it from his hands with her magic, quickly trotting up to the  large door as she did so - the longer she took getting through there, the more likely she was to get hit with something.

The door cracked open, and she sprinted forward, ducking behind the closest available cover. Her head poked up to judge the situation briefly, before she took off again, keeping herself low and behind the short walls. There were more than two men this time, she noted. She moved left from where she’d entered, since she’d moved right last time.

After moving about thirty feet, heading towards a mock tower, she poked her head over the barrier to look. She quickly counted four soldiers, all men as far as she could tell. Only one of them had a weapon similar to hers, with the others having different equipment. Something had been said before about different classes of soldiers, and the alicorn guessed it was time for her to get introduced to them all.

One of them shouted something and pointed to her position, prompting Twilight to duck. She caught sight of another heading over to the right of where she’d entered as she did so, and so she quickly moved over to the tower on her left. She’d have difficulty fighting four foes at a time, unless she could… yes, that might work.

Twilight glanced around the side of the tower, keeping an eye on her opponents’ positions. One of them had just taken residence in another tower, and one seemed to be holding back. She knew one was off to her right, and likely closing in. The fourth she couldn’t see, so she guessed it was keeping low like she had been. The alicorn ducked back, before looking to the other side of the tower, her horn lighting. A second later, she was hearing everything much more precisely than previously; notably, the sound of running feet hitting concrete, running directly towards her front. Perfect.

Twilight waited until the soldier ran around the corner in front of her, amusedly noting how his expression changed to confusion when he spotted her sat still, before firing her next spell. A large area around her immediately filled with dense grey smoke, accompanied by a loud and deep ‘boomf’ noise. She rolled sideways, before firing at the point where she could still hear her opponent yelping in surprise from. The loud triple bell that announced her success, however, was painfully loud with her enhanced hearing. She shook her head to try clearing the ringing, before quickly jumping a nearby wall before the illusory fog cleared.

She thought for a moment, popping her head up to see where the soldier had gone; simple illusions would make a good choice for low-power spells she could teach, if human psions could properly control light they created. She ducked again, before wracking her brains for options and conjuring a vaguely head-shaped blob in her colours just above her. She frowned; okay, she couldn’t make accurate illusions at this power.

A red beam of light tearing straight through it served to let her know it managed well enough, and she got moving again, back the way she had started from. As she broke cover to cross a gap in the wall, she heard a shout. She dropped, narrowly missing a red beam, only to have another smack her square in the side to the tune of four bells. She gritted her teeth as she jumped behind the opposite wall, berating herself; she could’ve used smoke to cross that!

Shaking her head, the alicorn thought for a moment, before smiling. She glanced over her cover, spotting the soldier hanging back on the ground, and shot a spell to him. Another smoke cloud kicked up with a ‘pop,’ surrounding him. She scanned around her as he yelled in panic, and grinned as she saw the same soldier that had wanted to get close to her rise up to aim around the hanger-back. She carefully took aim…

“Hazard, down!” someone shouted, and the man ducked her shot, not even spinning to look around. Twilight glanced over at where the noise had originated, to see a weapon similar to hers aimed right at her. A flash of red and two bells, and she dropped back again with a yelp.

This was not working; with four pairs of eyes on her, misdirection could only do so much. But with only a fraction of her magic available, she couldn’t use any of her more physical spells. Unless…

The whole reason she was here was to understand how XCOM psions fought. They couldn’t codify proper magic yet, so they used base psionics, which was almost entirely mental. The alicorn nodded to herself, before carefully moving cover, keeping an eye out for where her opponents were moving. The closest one, ‘Hazard’, was moving towards her again. She smiled, before quickly lashing out with a stream of magic.

“I’ve got the hostile flank-!” Hazard called out to his squad as he vaulted a short wall and found Twilight smiling pleasantly at him. Unknown to him, a thin line of thought connected them, letting her affect everything he was seeing.  She watched as he managed a dull “...Huh?” staring at the air above her, before the room’s bell rang out two sets of three bells as she pulled the trigger twice. She dropped the connection, flashed him a grin, and ran off again as he stood blinking in confusion.

Maybe misdirection would work then, in a fashion. Using magic like that would be… well, not smiled upon back in Equestria, but if XCOM wanted her to think like one of theirs… Twilight kept smiling to herself as she moved, already thinking up what else she could do with her available power.


***


10:14, 2nd March 2016

“What do we have, Doctor?” Officer Bradford asked, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet workshop.

“Not much,” Dr Shen admitted, turning away from the screen he’d been reading from to speak to his colleague, “the blocking of our communications system seems to have been localised to the site of yesterday’s incident. Diagnostics indicate that our satellites were functioning correctly around the globe, which would mean the helicopter seen leaving the area would have been carrying a jamming device.”

Bradford mused for a moment. “Wouldn’t they need to break our encryptions to interfere with our communications like that?” he asked.

Shen nodded, “Yes, which troubles me more than a little. The engineering team is already re-calibrating our system with new encryption keys, this time taking advantage of our understanding of the alien’s communication techniques. They should prove much harder to crack, unless…”

Bradford raised an eyebrow. “Unless what, doctor?” he pressed.

Dr Shen turned back the the screen he’d been reading from, gesturing for Bradford to look too. “Doctor Vahlen’s team has finished analysing some of the materials we recovered from the men our soldiers encountered. This readout in particular gives information about the specialised rounds that their sniper was equipped with. Initially she believed that the rounds might be made from tungsten with a specialised chemical propellant to propel them at greater velocity, but the reality is more troubling.” Shen picked up a small object from the workbench next to him, presenting it to Bradford. “This is the round that was removed from Private Cho’s shoulder. Chemical analysis shows it to be the exact same material that makes up the hull and internal structure of alien spacecraft. Marking of the round indicates that it was hand-machined, not mass-produced.”

Bradford frowned. “What does that tell us, doctor?” he asked, already piecing together the implications of those facts himself.

“Whoever these assailants were, they come from an organisation that can both produce custom-made munitions, and that can secure materials from alien crash sites,” Dr Shen explained. “However, they lack the capacity to properly melt down and reform alien alloy materials, instead relying on turning rounds to shape using specialised tools that can cut such materials, which would explain the scarcity of the munitions; including the shots fired by the sniper that missed, he had only been equipped with ten of these rounds.”

“Ten would be enough, if they can pierce our troops’ armour,” Bradford pointed out, “the damage to Cho’s shoulder has her in medical for upwards of a month.”

“Indeed,” Shen agreed, “although I believe the more pressing issue at hand is what organisation these attackers represented, and how did they gain access to both our encryption keys and a supply of alien materials.”

Bradford gritted his teeth. “If it were only the alien alloy rounds, I would have said they scavenged some from the sites of downed alien craft. We had three destroyed on impact after we started flying the Firestorms, remember, and left it up to the Council to secure with regular military. But having access to our communications encryptions…” the CO shook his head. “I’ll be bringing this up with the Spokesman, we may have an inside informant collaborating with these attackers. Whoever they are, they laid a trap for us, and they had the aliens’ help doing it. If the aliens acquire significant human support, it could restart the war.”

Dr Shen nodded. “This might be up to the Council to investigate, but if our new adversary is receiving support from someone within the Council, it might be prudent to form an investigation team of our own. We know where that helicopter landed, after all.”

Officer Bradford mused for a moment, before nodding, a smile slowly spreading across his face.


***


10:21, 2nd March 2016

Twilight squatted behind a short wall and mused her options. She’d managed to take down the one set on flanking her, as well as the one with the same weapons that her opponents had been equipped with last time. The same trick had worked twice, but the rifle-wielder had blurted out what he was seeing (something about giant moths) before the alicorn had taken him down.  That meant the one with the big gun and the one in the tower would be more prepared for her; anything too unusual, and they’d probably ignore it and just attack.

Her ears perked up as she heard the more heavily armed opponent jump a barrier, the heavy bulk of his mass hitting the ground with a dull thud. She spent a moment trying to listen, to see if she could work out where he was headed, before nearly smacking herself on the face with a hoof. If she couldn’t make visible illusions work any more, she’d have to try something else, and projecting sound was only as complex as projecting her hearing like she’d been doing under greater impedance than now...

The alicorn cautiously peeked around her cover, making sure her movement would be out of sight of the man in the tower. From the lower position, she couldn’t see the one who was moving, but, reasoning that she didn’t need to be exact, she acted; first she cast the spell, then she promptly lifted both right legs and fell over.

The heavy thud and resultant “Oof!” echoed from the other side of the hall, and now staying still, Twilight heard the soft squeak of a boot twisting on the ground. There was a short pause, and she heard a murmured sentence spoken. She quietly got to her hooves, still sending the sound away just in case, and cautiously peered over her barricade. The man in the tower had taken his eye away from his weapon’s sights, and judging by the peak of his cap, was looking towards the other end of the battlefield. She couldn’t see the man on the ground right now, but without the first one looking, she could start moving more freely.

Quietly, she started walking. Another murmured sentence. She stopped. Cast the spell, and knocked a hoof on the wall next to her. Footsteps, going away. She nodded. Walking again, still quiet. Glanced at the tower. He was watching the other side of the hall now, his weapon moved to face that way. Good. She headed towards his position, stopping now and again to send a quick clumsy step or gasp of breath to the other side.

She caught sight of the man on the ground again as she reached the tower, seeing him cautiously making his way in the other direction, moving between cover that completely exposed him to her actual position. Twilight smiled, and considered taking him out now, but reconsidered when she glanced at the tower; the only way up was a ladder at the back. With her wings held under her suit and so little of her magic to work with, she’d struggle to try and climb it, so she had to take out the foe up there from down on the ground. From the front, he’d be able to spot her, and it’d take her two shots. She wouldn’t be able to see him clearly from the sides, due to a low wall on either side, so she’d have to be at the back.

Twilight quickly found, however, that she couldn’t back up quite far enough to see the man properly before her rear end bumped into the outside wall of the arena. She’d need to see from higher up, now. Shed looked at the barricades, trying to gauge whether she could stand balanced on two of them, when a thought struck her; she could create light very crudely, but redirecting existing light was practically easier.

Lifting her weapon into the air above her, the alicorn cast another spell, and a mirrored surface appeared in midair just behind the sights. She angled it as her brow began to sweat, letting her see down the sights. She still couldn’t see him, so she lifted the gun a little higher, re-angling the mirror to accommodate. She lifted it once more before she could see him properly, and at this distance it was hard to line the sights up correctly. The effort of maintaining both spells was starting to ache, but knowing that she’d only get one proper shot at this, she persevered. At any rate, it was easier than it would be trying to do the same with two arms and a hand mirror. Two more seconds of aiming, and she pulled the trigger.

The sudden yell from the man as his weapon rumbled in his hands in time with the ringing bells, letting him know that he’d been hit, made the alicorn grin almost as much as the sound itself; five rings, just enough to take him down. She waited patiently, bringing her weapon to her side and dismissing the formless mirror, as he stood looking around for her for a second, before shaking his head and turning to climb down the ladder. He paused for a second as he spotted her, and both of them blinked at one another. He seemed surprised at where she’d been, but she was more surprised to see Sergeant Murray lifting the ballcap off of his head. He gave her a wide smile, before dropping to the ground and quickly leaving.

Twilight readied herself again. One to go.


***


10:34, 2nd March 2016

The primary research lab was abuzz as Officer Bradford walked in, weaving his way among scientists as he made his way to Dr Vahlen’s likely whereabouts. “Ah, Officer Bradford,” she called to him as he approached, “I presume you’re here regarding yesterday's events?”

“I’ve already received Doctor Shen’s brief,” he explained, “whoever these people are, they’ve recovered a source of alien materials.”

“Not just those the engineering department is concerned with,” Vahlen stated as she started walking through the crowd, beckoning for the officer to follow as the various scientists parted to let her walk, “Preliminary visual studies, tissue sampling and magnetic imagery all confirm that yesterday’s assailants have all had their physiology significantly altered.”

“I’m guessing that would explain why they were so difficult to kill, compared to our soldiers?” Bradford replied.

Dr Vahlen nodded. “It also made our initial attempts to autopsy difficult,” she added as they paused to allow a lab technician to wheel a table with various implements on it past them, out of the room they were headed to. Bradford spotted a blunted bone saw among the various utensils. “But, with a little help from the engineering team where necessary, we have been making some headway.”

As the two stopped at the glass wall of the autopsy chamber, one of the men inside was cutting through the ribcage of a mostly shrouded body with a handheld disk cutter. “I’m guessing they’re more heavily modified than our own volunteers?” Bradford noted.

Vahlen was silent for a moment. “Yes and no,” she stated, “more of their physiology has been altered, yes, but they are still essentially human. We haven't detected any alien DNA fragments in any of the tissue sample taken, and samples taken have the same genetic code regardless from where in a subject they are taken.”

“Do you have an idea why?” Bradford asked, already knowing that she would.

“Differences in the use of the Meld substance, which we have detected trace amounts of within them,” Dr Vahlen explained. “Our process involves the improvement of human genetic material by splicing it with alien genetic material. We then grow the required transplants in a synthesised environment, and graft them into our soldiers when they are ready, using the Meld substance as a synthetic bridge between the two; it is programmed to physically attach the two tissues and manage the flow of resources such as oxygen between the soldier and their transplant, but protects the genetically dissimilar graft from attack by the host’s immune system.”

“I remember one of your team compared it to a placenta, once,” Bradford noted.

The head scientist nodded, “Not entirely inaccurate, true. But with these subject, the Meld is programmed more to act as a retrovirus, altering the existing genetic material of the human host. It seems to be primarily focused on altering tissue around the bones and under the skin, making the existing skeleton thicker and denser, as well as creating a thin subdermal mesh of cartilage. This would likely explain their resilience in combat, with no noticeable loss in mobility achieved through the increase of the density of their muscle fibres. It is a cruder method, but uses the Meld much more efficiently, I admit.”

“A cruder method?” the officer parroted.

“Yes, well… we have not detected any surgical scarring anywhere on the subjects, which, combined with the uniformity of the altered DNA throughout their bodies and the trace amounts of the Meld substance left,  indicates that their genetic coding was modified in-situ; they have likely been directly injected with the programmed Meld, and it has worked its way through their bodies ‘correcting’ their genetic coding as it goes. This was, admittedly, one of our own earlier ideas for the Meld’s use, but was determined to be unethical; the process could take as long as a month to be properly complete, and in the meantime the patient would be in an awful state.” Dr Vahlen hesitated for a moment, before continuing, “The as-yet unmodified tissue would be constantly attempting to reject the modified, resulting in the body being in a constant state of pain and severe illness. The possibility of damage to vital organs throughout the process, when the unmodified immune system attacks the heart or brain, would be too high to consider acceptable.”

“So we’re likely only seeing the subjects who survived the process?” Bradford noted.

“Most likely, yes,” Dr Vahlen replied. “I’m hoping to determine how many applied, and how many survived, once the live captive starts answering questions.”

Bradford glanced around the busy lab again, before asking “Haven’t you started questioning yet?”

“We have,” Vahlen noted, “but he’s been… difficult. After his non-compliance under regular questioning was made evident, I decided to skip any sort of more physically involved interrogation and have a psion… ‘investigate’ him. As it turns out, the aliens have been this susceptible to our psions so far on account of having been specifically weakened for control by the Ethereals; our ostensibly human captive has proven a lot more difficult to intrude upon. We have the names, occupations, addresses and assorted other details of himself and his peers, but nothing on the organization they were acting on behalf of. We may have been able to question him if Colonel Taylor were still with us, but...”

Bradford considered, as he watched a camera being positioned to see into the now opened chest of the autopsy subject before them. “Have you tried your own technique?” He asked.

Dr Vahlen tapped her tablet, glanced at the video being streamed to it from the autopsy, and replied, “I had assumed, since we have only the one captive, you would rather have him kept alive for further questioning than spent on one attempt?” she queried.

Bradford turned to her. “We have the location of one of their outposts, doctor. If you can get me numbers and weapons listings, or any other tactical data, I can get you more captives.”

Dr Vahlen nodded to him. “I’ll have a report on your desk by tomorrow morning, then,” she said.


***


10:43, 2nd March 2016

Twilight crept towards the centre of the battlefield, where the last of her opponents was isolated. To say she was having fun, sending knocks and bumps and heavy hoofsteps all around the arena to confuse him, wouldn’t be inaccurate. He was panicked and jumpy, looking everywhere for her, with no idea what direction he should be taking cover from.

Twilight snuck closer, sending a thump of hoof against floor to his right. He darted around to look in that direction, just as she sent a loud gasp to his left. He wheeled around to face that direction, before glancing back behind him. The alicorn grinned, slowly walking up as quietly as possible. There was only one more barricade between the two of them, and he had his back to it. He glanced around again, making Twilight pause for a moment, before carrying on.

His breath was coming heavy with panic. Hers was calm, barely keeping from laughing.

His eyes swept as much as possible, while studying nothing closely enough. Hers were locked on him, and she could make out the sweat beading on his brow.

His feet were adjusting frantically, trying to be ready to run, or dive, in any direction. Hers were careful, moving with an almost fluid grace towards him.

She reached the barricade. She sent out a quiet brush of her tail against the ground, to the other side of him. He had his back to the barrier, just a little to her left. She quietly stood, putting both front hooves on the wall to lean over it. One shot would-

The wooden wall creaked.

The man turned around.

Twilight wasn’t exactly sure what happened next, but she suddenly realised that she was lying on her back, a loud siren was blaring, and Starswirl’s beard did her face hurt! She brought both front hooves up to it with a loud groan, carefully trying to work out what had happened.

The siren ended, and a voice spoke over the arena; “Sergeant Hayashi, disqualified for physically striking an opponent. Volunteer Sparkle wins by default.” Twilight paused, before realising that the man was now stood over her, holding out a hand. She placed one hoof in it, and he helped haul her to her feet.

“Uh, sorry about that,” he said, scratching the back of his neck and not looking at her. “I panicked.”

“What happened?” Twilight asked, gently testing the bruise starting to form between her eyes.

“Well, uh, I kind of… smashed the butt of my gun in your face,” he admitted.

Twilight hissed as she pressed a little too firmly. “Well, at least you missed my muzzle,” she replied, “it doesn’t feel like anything’s broken.”

“Do you want any help walking out?” he offered sheepishly.

Shaking her head, the alicorn put her hoof back on the floor. “I can manage, I’ve had worse,” she said, before glancing around her. Spotting her weapon, she magically picked it up.

“So, uh, you win, then,” Hayashi said, pointing to the exit door.

“Well, technically,” Twilight replied, walking alongside him as they headed towards it. “But Cameron and one of the other two hit me once each; if you’d actually shot instead of smacking me you could’ve won.”

Hayashi shrugged. “These can be hard to turn around in a hurry, especially at that range,” he said, hefting the large mock weapon he was carrying up for her to look at. “Well, maybe not so much this one, but the proper thing weighs a ton.”

Twilight touched her face again. “Going to remember that for next time,” she replied. “So, how do you use it in a squad?”

Hayashi thought for a moment, as he put the weapon in one of the racks in the equipment room as they entered. He didn’t get to reply, however, as Sgt Murray spoke up first. “Well, most squads use ‘em for suppressive fire, while everyone else is focussed on actually hitting things.” the scotsman said with a grin. “Good seein’ you again, Twilight.”

“Good seeing you too, Cameron!” she replied, holding up a hoof which he shook. “Sorry about earlier, didn’t recognise the back of your head.”

Sgt Murray shrugged. “We were on opposite teams, it was going to happen. I got you once, after all.”

“True,” Twilight replied, as Dr Chung stepped towards the group and started dialling up the resistance on her inhibitor again.

“Twilight, this is some of the rest of my squad,” Sgt Murray gestured to the other soldiers, “Lieutenant Hayashi, or Nova, you’ve already had a close encounter with.” Hayashi gave the scotsman a withered look but said nothing. “He’s a heavy weapons specialist, shoots things and blows stuff up. Generally better at the latter than the former.”

“Removing enemy cover helps the rest of the squad,” Hayashi noted, “even if Doctor Vahlen isn’t much of a fan of us doing so.”

“Over here we have Hazard,” Murray introduced a man one-handedly holding a somewhat shorter weapons than Twilight’s, “or Sergeant Lefevre on the paperwork. “He’s an assault specialist, which-”

“Primarily involved in eliminating threats at close range,” Twilight finished with a smile, “I’ve met Captain Moreau, she was, uh…”

“She’s definitely the outgoing sort most of us shotties are, agreed,” Lefevre said with a nod. “Personally, I tend to hang back and play defensive. Our squad’s more defensively focused, so I like to let the enemy come to me when I can.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Not quite what I was seeing from you today, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Sergeant Marquez here is one of our general riflemen, with advanced battlefield control training alongside,” Murray continued, placing one hand on the named soldier’s shoulder. “Most of what he does is keep the rest of us from getting shot too much, so we call him Shield.”

“Smoke grenades, flashbangs, covering and suppressive fire, cover denial,” Marquez listed, holding up a finger with each item. “Sorry I didn’t get to show any of it off today, but you seem to be pretty familiar with the ideas yourself!”

“Thanks,” the alicorn replied, "I’ve known the spell for years, but never really used it that much. Good to know I’m not out of practice!”

“And then lastly there’s me,” Sgt Murray said, as he deposited his somewhat longer weapon onto one of the storage racks. “I’m a sniper, have been since before I joined XCOM. It’s my job to take out targets at any range, preferably long. If everything’s going the way it ought to, I pull the trigger once, one less alien the lads have to deal with.”

“Doesn’t always quite work that simply,” Hayashi noted with a small smirk, “but that’s usually the aliens’ fault. At any rate, there hasn’t been an XCOM squad that survived more than a mission or two without a sniper on hand, and Cameron’s one of the better ones.”

“Well, I don’t mean to brag, but I think my record speaks for itself,” he said, before tapping the side of his head with a cocky grin. “Helps that I’ve got a little extra up here, though.”

Twilight cocked her head to one side slightly. “Wait, you use psionics to help you shoot better?”

“The lab boys think so,” Cameron replied, “apparently I picked up how to lead targets with entirely inhuman movements quicker than anyone else. The first few runs of psionic testing were pretty unsuccessful, and Vahlen’s team started looking for soldiers who showed unusual learning ability rather than just incredible skill.”

Twilight nodded, stepping out of the sensor suit that Dr Chung had unzipper for her, leaving her wearing just the psionic inhibitor again. “That makes sense, with how psionics can manifest in more complicated forms without needing proper formalisation into magical signatures, you’d be able to affect your own mind just by thinking about it,” she reasoned.

“Still not sure that would explain Taylor,” Hayashi noted, to a murmured agreement from the other men.

“You’ve no doubt heard of Colonel Taylor by now, right?” Cameron asked, and Twilight nodded in reply. “Well, when she joined she was in much the same role as Marquez, trying to keep her squad safe. Went a bit further than him, let the Genetic Augmentation team do their bit to make her better. It quickly got noted by the brass that near any mission she went on, everyone came home safe, but she never made any noise about it herself.”

“Maybe that’s why she got overlooked for so long for the psionics program,” Marquez continued, “but it was only after closely studying soldier’s combat footage, trying to look for what might indicate psionic potential, that anyone really understood why she played her part so well. You know how I mentioned covering fire being one of my duties? Taylor was good at it, really good. Any time an alien poked its head out, she was aiming down sights at it. But the lab boys noticed something; every so often, she’d aim or shoot to suppress a target before it had even started to move. Somehow, she knew where the enemy were going to be and what they were going to do before they’d given any indication.”

“That’s… interesting,” Twilight noted, “precognition is a very difficult ability for anyone to master, even with formalised magic back in Equestria. I only really know one person who can, and she has no control over it. With raw psionics, I’m not sure it would even be possible...”

“Well if it is, Taylor did it,” Marquez noted, “and then she turns out to be the single best psion we ever had.”

“I think I’ll ask Doctor Vahlen about this,” the alicorn replied, “it sort of contradicts what I’d gathered from studying my own psionic energy, as well as what I’d gathered from my contact with Cameron and, uh, Captain Pimenova.”

“Well, if you need any extra study material, give me a shout,” Murray said with a smile. “Now, d’you want to join us for lunch, or if the canteen still gonna be a bit… public, for you?”

Twilight shook her head. “I’ve actually got an appointment with Doctor Dysart, sorry. I’ll catch up with you later!”

“Alright then,” the scotsman replied, and waved along with the rest of his squad as she rushed out of the training complex.


***


Research Project: Subject X-014 “Sparkle.”

Date: 2nd March 2016

Experiment X-014-1-I: Combat Testing 2

Personnel: Lt K Hayashi, Sgt C Murray, Sgt J Marquez, Sgt T Lefevre

Experiment Summary

Standard training exercise, battlefield mimicking urban environment. X-014-1 equipped with one training laser rifle, one refitted training hit detection suit, and one psionic inhibitor set to 85% impedance. This value allows X-014-1 to manipulate her weapon using psionics, with a reasonable reserve of power that should allow her to function in a capacity similar to that of our less potent psionic soldiers. All member of Fireteam  equipped each with training laser weapons appropriate to their live combat roles, training hit detection suit, and Self-Correcting Optical Performance Enhancers (SCOPEs). Sgt Marquez equipped with a full complement of smoke and flashbang grenades.

X-014-1 immediately moves to cover and observes opposing force multiple times, before taking cover in a position that mandates flanking. A load of 6.4Vh is registered at this point, explained later by X-014-1 as an effect that granted her hypersensitive hearing. Sgt Lefevre attempts to outflank X-014-1, but is caught in a smoke cloud generated by further psionic activity from X-014-1 (indicated by a load of 18.7Vh) and eliminated by return fire upon voicing his confusion. X-014-1 proceeds to break cover and attempt to make use of an illusion (load 23.3Vh) to draw fire, however the quality of the image was observed to be lacking in detail, and did not prevent X-014-1 from taking fire from Sgt Murray.

Further effects utilised by X-014-1 during training include the use of visual hallucinations (load 17.8Vh) to confuse Sgt Marquez during an exchange of fire with him, and use of redirecting light (load 34.8 Vh, barely within X-014-1’s expected capabilities under testing impedance) to obtain a better firing angle on Sgt Murray. X014-1 was observed to perspire and seemed to be having physical difficulty resulting from the combined effort of maintaining the effect and maneuvering her weapon at a distance.

Combat ends when X-014-1 is engaged in melee combat by Lt Hayashi, following an extended series of misdirection efforts on her part, including auditory effects directed from remote locations (requiring a load of 13.7Vh per use). Melee combat is prohibited in training situations, and Lt Hayashi was disqualified, resulting in X-014-1’s victory by default. However, it should be noted that had Lt Hayashi fired his weapon instead, he may well have been the victor. Nevertheless, the ability of X-014-1 to eliminate three opponents and sufficiently misdirect a fourth, all with psionic effects of loads achievable by any XCOM psionic soldier, is extremely promising.

Further Research

X-014-1 has demonstrated the capability to produce visual effects purely from psionic power, taking both the form of simple clouds of smoke, and attempts at creating more complicated shapes. A power that could effectively mimic a limitless supply of smoke grenades would be a useful capability for our soldiers to bring to the battlefield, particularly those without existing battlefield control training. The attempt at a more detailed image may be exceptionally useful as a distraction to draw enemy fire; it will be requested that X-014-1 attempt this again in future training sessions when she has more power available to her.

X-014-1’s use of entirely mental hallucinations on Sgt Marquez is also of note; while most XCOM psions can already perform a similar effect, it causes permanent mental damage to the target. X-014-1’s use of the technique seems to have had no lasting effect on Sgt Marquez, which would make it ideal for use as an incapacitation tool. With the recent introduction of a human organisation opposing XCOM’s actions, this could be a useful tools for our psions to learn to allow for capture of enemy agents. Similarly, X-014-1’s ability to redirect sound to originate from remote locations would make a similarly suitable misdirection tool.

Also of note is X-014-1’s introduction of auditory hypersensitivity; while it was observed to cause her discomfort once loud noises were present in the training centre, it allowed her to predict incoming attacks and fire while effectively blind. While in practice these capabilities are already available to our soldiers via genetic augmentation (to induce electrosensitivity in the skin, which will also function against otherwise silent opponents), not all soldiers are willing to undergo such procedures. It may be worthwhile to train our psions in this technique as well.

Lastly, the ability to reflect light in order to accurately fire from cover without exposing oneself is an incredibly potent ability. That it caused X-014-1 physical stress to perform indicates that it will likely be restricted to only our most proficient psions, but it will undoubtedly prove invaluable for them.

X-014-1 is due for another training exercise on 5th March 2016, with a decreased impedance allowing for study of more powerful techniques. It has been requested by X-014-1 that she be able to train privately with Sgt Murray before meeting with the rest of XCOM’s psionic roster, both to gain a more accurate understanding of how XCOM psions manifest their abilities, and for her own studies into what is possible with what she terms ‘unrefined psionics’.
> Operation: Idle Hands
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

11:59, 2nd March 2016

Dr Dysart looked up as the door to his office slid open. “Ah, Miss Sparkle,” he greeted the purple alicorn walking into the room, “how are you this afternoon?”

“Feeling good,” Twilight replied with a smile as she hopped into the chair facing the psychiatrist’s desk, “got a nasty bruise on my muzzle though.”

“Oh dear, what happened?” the doctor asked, pushing the lid onto the fountain pen he’d been writing with and setting it down.

“Rifle butted by one of the other team,” Twilight replied, “he got disqualified, so I won by default.”

“That seems rather harsh on his part,” Dysart noted.

“Well, he was panicking,” Twilight explained, “I… kind of did a little sound magic to disorient him, and might have taken it a little too far.”

“You feel there are limits to what’s acceptable in training, and that you overstepped them?” the psychologist asked.

“Well, it… I had other options I could have used which wouldn’t have been as harrowing,” Twilight argued, “but the purpose of my training is to determine what would make sense to use on an actual battlefield, which this would have, so… I’d guess it was acceptable, since I apologised afterwards.”

“Even after being punched in the face,” Dysart pointed out.

“Rifle-butted,” Twilight corrected him, “and, well, if I hadn’t taken the course of action I had, he wouldn’t have reacted like that.” She paused for a moment before frowning. “Wait, you’re not suggesting that I’m claiming it was my fault due to the self-defensive conditioning, are you?”

“I’m a psychologist, Miss Sparkle,” Dr Dysart replied, “it’s not my place to suggest anything, merely to ask some of the questions you might be avoiding asking yourself, to help you understand how you actually feel about yourself and your situation. Of course, you’re free to ask my opinion whenever you like.”

Twilight thought for a moment, before nodding. “So, about Stockholm Syndrome, it… it’s basically misconstruing the facts of a situation to put one’s aggressors in a sympathetic light, correct?”

“That’s reasonably accurate,” Dysart agreed, shuffling in his chair to lean forwards a little, his arms crossed on his desk, “it can also derive from putting one’s aggressors in a sympathetic light without requiring any misconstruing at all.”

“So, if we take the biggest picture possible into scope,” Twilight followed, motioning her front hooves apart in the air in front of her, “and work out the facts of the situation not involving me at all, then work down from there to work out where I fit in,” she closed her hooves to being only an inch apart as she continued, “would that help?”

Dysart bit the inside of his lip in thought for a moment. “It might certainly help,” he agreed, “although I’m only aware of many of the broad facts myself, not the specifics.”

Twilight nodded. “Well, okay, so we have this planet, Earth, and the population are all human,” she started explaining, “and then it’s attacked by a variety of alien races acting as a cohesive army, with member species varying between startlingly humanoid to utterly inhumanoid, with a significant number of them being somewhere in the middle.”

“That’s true, yes,” Dysart agreed, “many of the research team believe that the various races were altered to their current bipedal forms.”

“Exactly!” Twilight agreed, “Nearly all of them are bipedal! Even Chryssalids have hands, or hand-talons or whatever they are. The only alien forces lacking a manipulator appendage are the robotic ones.”

“And cyberdisks, assuming they aren’t wholly mechanical,” the psychologist noted.

The alicorn nodded. “Right. So there’s a war between these two forces, which humanity ultimately wins, and then XCOM, the organisation responsible for said war being won, start clearing up the remaining aliens where they occur because they haven’t just left.

“And then I come in,” Twilight continued, “bearing none of the distinctive characteristics the aliens share; no hands, no cybernetics, no evidence of genetic tampering. And when discovered, XCOM scientists just assume I’m part of the same force?”

“An inaccurate assumption on their parts,” Dysart agreed, “as I understand, Doctor Vahlen had a few incidents of working with presupposed notions throughout the war.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Were they ever right?” she asked.

“Once or twice,” Dysart confirmed, “her theories on the underlying mechanics of psionics turned out to be fairly accurate, although I’ve heard Doctor Shen complaining that she ought to have learned from the ‘pure energy’ incident.”

Twilight blinked. “‘Pure Energy?’ That… what. That isn’t a thing.”

“Apparently it was one of her first comments regarding the alien that the soldiers came to refer to as an Outsider,” Dysart explained, “from what I understand, they’re a sort of solid hologram projected within many of the alien ships as a self-defense mechanism. She was likely referring to the fact that to all equipment we have, they register as having negligible mass, despite being the size and rough shape of a human being.”

Twilight covered her mouth with one hoof for a moment, deep in thought. “That’s… hard light constructs are doable with magic; even just projecting a sphere around oneself makes for an effective physical shield, but if the ship was doing it, and could manage to make and manipulate a humanoid structure… are they living beings, too?”

Dysart shrugged. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that one, Miss Sparkle.”

“Right,” Twilight said with a nod, “I’ll have to ask about that later. Anyway, so I end up captured by XCOM, essentially on false charges.”

“You did incapacitate their response team,” Dysart noted.

“Because they attempted mental control and then opened fire first,” Twilight countered. The psychologist nodded in response, and the alicorn smiled. “So XCOM essentially don’t have a right to hold me here.”

Dysart stroked his bald chin for a moment. “Legal affairs also aren’t one of my specialties, Miss Sparkle, but I think XCOM does have the legal right to keep you contained. Whether or not that is fair is entirely open for debate, however.”

“Okay, so they’re keeping me here unfairly,” Twilight corrected herself, “because they thought I was something I’m not and don’t know how to correct their mistake. Or because I’m too useful as a potential educator for their psionic soldiers.” There was a short pause as the mare waited for the man to interject, but he simply waved at her to continue. “So, while if I were home in Equestria I’d be more than willing to help in a situation like the ones they’ve been facing, it still isn’t fair of them to repay any such assistance with ‘bending the rules’ to grant me things I ought to have fair access to anyway, such as decent food and a proper place to sleep, not to mention that I haven’t seen the sun in more than a week.”

“So you feel you’re being insufficiently rewarded in your present circumstance?” Dysart summarised.

“Yes,” Twilight replied, before adding, “but largely because I feel the things I’m being rewarded with ought to be a staple of being detained as a non-hostile entity.”

“Do you plan to stop cooperating with XCOM?” he asked.

Twilight hesitated for a moment. “No,” she denied, “because I do feel that the efforts they’ve been making against the aliens have been just, from having seen both their side of the argument as well as one of the aliens’. Plus what they’ve been asking of me so far has actually been sort of fun, incidents in the cafeteria aside.” Dysart opened his mouth to reply when Twilight cut across him to add “And the electrified panels thing when they first started, that was pretty terrible. And the bit where the Thin Man kicked me. Okay, maybe it’s actually been kind of awful,” the alicorn resigned, slumping in her chair.

“And yet you’re willing to give them another chance, trusting that future testing will be fair?”

Twilight mused quietly for a moment. “The research staff in particular are being a lot more friendly, but that could be a front. The tests themselves seem… well, they’re stacked against me in odds, but they won’t - or, well, shouldn’t,” she corrected herself, gingerly touching a hoof to the bridge of her muzzle, “cause actual physical or mental harm. It’s the same training regime they use for their soldiers, so in that respect I’m being treated as an equal.”

Dysart looked over his reading glasses at her. “And in other respects?” he pressed.

There was an extended pause as the princess took a few deep breaths. “Well, the soldiers have their own bunks whereas I’m still in an observation cell, none of the other XCOM psions have to wear inhibitors as a matter of principle, punishment for misuse of their powers aside, whereas I’m required to wear one at all times that I’m not within a dampening field. According to some of the soldiers I’ve become friends with they get ‘shore leave’ where they get to walk around on the surface and visit some of the local towns, whereas I’m stuck down here with no mention of release, and they have a whole barracks of facilities they can use in their free time, while I’m ‘heavily advised’ to remain within the cell at all times outside of eating or testing.” Twilight sighed. “I mean, I like the privacy of my bed and a good book as much as anyone, and most people I know would say I like it more than that, but when one whole wall of the room is a glass screen with two people sat twenty meters away monitoring my every action… okay, usually chatting idly and barely paying attention, I’m not really angry with anyone who gets put on that duty, but the principle of them being there?”

“So you feel imprisoned?” Dysart asked.

“Yes! Yes I feel imprisoned, I sleep in a testing tube!” Twilight raised her voice a little. “I’ve got guards at the door of the chamber - inside, not outside, so keeping me in - scientists constantly thinking up ways to determine how useful I could be to them, and… well, I...”

“I understand two examples as well as I understand three, Miss Sparkle,” Dysart said with a smile.

Twilight huffed in her seat, before slumping again. “I think… it doesn’t help that on top of that, I’m worried for my friends and family, and what they must be going through while I’m here, not knowing where I am or what’s happened to me.”

The psychologist nodded. “There were a lot of similar sentiments from most members of staff during the war, Miss Sparkle. You aren’t alone for being concerned for those back home.”

“True,” Twilight nodded, “but everyone here was fighting to get rid of the aliens, which would let them get back to their families. I’m sat here doing nothing productive to getting back home, aside from some vague idea that the aliens are responsible for me being here.”

“So you’re feeling guilty from your inactivity, and failing to fulfill your commitment to your friends?” Dysart asked.

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t we getting a little off of the central issue?” she asked.

Dysart tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement. “It’s possible, if you do feel that way regarding your inactivity, that you in turn feel that some of the things XCOM and its staff are subjecting you to are a form of punishment for not trying to return home, and that you deserve them.”

The alicorn blinked. “That doesn’t logically make sense,” she countered, “because if I were to ignore XCOM and focus solely on returning home I’d be ‘punished’ harder.” She waved her hooves slightly for emphasis.

“And you recognise that logically, yes,” Dysart agreed, “but do you recognise it emotionally?”

Twilight paused, thinking back to the cafeteria incident, and her psionic self-analysis afterwards. “I… I don’t think I did, when I got attacked in the canteen,” she agreed. “I still can’t tell if the alterations in my mind were entirely the result of the attack or partially self-made prior to that, as a result of my captivity. Either way, I’ve undone that damage now, and… and now I’m not quite so happy with the original agreement I had with Officer Bradford and Doctor Vahlen.”

“Which was before the cafeteria incident,” Dysart noted, and Twilight nodded. “So is it possible the damage was already present at that time?”

“...No,” Twilight replied after some thought, “because I had only just finished removing Sergeant Murray’s personal memories from my mind. I’d have recognised the damage then, even if it was fairly subtle.”

“So your disagreement with the arrangement now is because…?”

“Because a lot of what I had been offered, besides access to better food and a decent bed to sleep on, hasn’t been granted. I haven’t even had the big ceiling light in my cell being turned off, they just issued me a blindfold.”

“So you feel they aren’t upholding their side of the bargain,” Dysart summarised, and the princess nodded. “Do you have any ideas as to why that might be?”

“Issues with XCOM policy, I’d assumed,” Twilight sighed, “but that would be subject to overhaul in the wake of a non-hostile alien, surely. Now I’m wondering if I’m not upholding part of my side of the bargain somehow.”

“Which was?” Dysart prompted.

“To willingly be subject to additional testing for combat capabilities and applications of my psionic powers,” Twilight explained, before her eyes widened, “and teach their psions how to use them! Even if there have only been two training sessions so far, I can still work on determining if humans are capable of codified magic or if I ought to be focusing on pure psionics! Then they’d have to grant me a… well, they could close the shutters for some privacy sometimes. And turn the big light off!” she added excitedly.

Dysart smiled. “You’d consider that sufficient reward for the extra effort?” he asked.

“Well, those and help from the research team, or at least access to some of their resources, so I can work on finding a way home in my free time,” Twilight said, before nodding decidedly. “I’d argue for a proper bunk as well, but again, they’d need to change policy for that.”

“Every other member of staff has one,” Dysart observed, “and if you’re going to be teaching and researching…”

Twilight smiled coyly. “I thought you said you weren't allowed to suggest things?”

Dr Dysart raised both hands in a surrendering gesture. “Caught red-handed,” he chuckled. The rule did mostly refer to trying to convince his patients of things that weren’t true regarding their mental states, and Twilight had guessed as such, but she laughed with him all the same.

“Well, I think that’s a good course of action going forwards,” Twilight noted with a sense of finality. “Do you think this is a good place to close the session?”

“If you want to close it here,” Dr Dysart agreed, “either way works fine for me.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Twilight said, beaming as she stood from her chair, “this has been very helpful.”

“My pleasure, Miss Sparkle,” he replied, standing with her and stepping forwards to open the door, “my office is always open should you need anything.” He held the door for her as she left, and watched her walk down the corridor for a few moments before closing it and returning to his desk. He picked up his fountain pen, uncapped it, and continued the surprisingly detailed doodle of a cat he had been busy with before his patient had arrived.


***


06:27, 3rd March 2016

“Alright Strike One,” Officer Bradford spoke, standing in the main hangar of XCOM’s subterranean facility, “today’s operation is going to be a little different from usual. We’ve isolated the landing location of the unmarked helicopter from yesterday’s attack on Fireteam Oscar, in the Bay of Natal in Durban, South Africa. Fireteam Oscar was advancing on an alien presence located at the end of the centremost pier of the docks when radio contact was lost and they came under fire. Fireteam Oscar’s heavy armour protected them from harm by small arms fire from their assailants, but the presence of heavy weaponry and specialised armour-penetration rounds claimed two casualties.”

“Bastards,” Sgt Theodore ‘Hazard’ Lefevre spoke, followed by a muttered agreement from the rest of the squad.

Bradford waited for their simmering anger to quiet before continuing. “Recon Satellite Foxtrot tracked the helicopter as it headed south along the coast, before heading inland to Ixopo and landing on the roof of a warehouse near the middle of town. We’ve maintained surveillance ever since, and no other vehicles have been seen approaching or leaving the building. Whatever group in South Africa is opposing XCOM’s operations and siding with the aliens, they have considerable resources and production capabilities. It’s possible that this warehouse has been soundproofed and converted into an arms factory, but we suspect that it is only a satellite storage and deployment facility for a larger operation throughout the region.

“You’re going in to verify that,” the officer explained, “by whatever means necessary. You should concern yourselves primarily with the seizure of documents and computer storage devices, and with the capture of any non-combatants located at the site. We’re expecting enemy presence, and you have full authority to neutralise any and all opposition as necessary. South Africa has enjoyed XCOM protection on several occasions, and it seems they’re willing to return the favour; local police have been reinforced from the main city and are ready to establish a perimeter and secure the operational zone once you’ve extracted. They’re preparing a cover story for today’s events, likely an organised drug bust or something along those lines, so you’re advised to leave the surrounding buildings standing. The more we can give ourselves the trappings of a police force than a military one, the smoother everything afterwards will go.”

“Do the police in South Africa have VTOL dropships, now?” Sgt Cameron Murray sniggered as he glanced back at the Skyranger.

“No,” Officer Bradford replied, a stern note in his voice commanding the sniper to face front again, “which is why you’ll be deploying to a temporary staging point in the forestry north of the town and taking a police helicopter from there.”

“Analysis of enemy forces, sir?” the squad’s leader, Cpt ‘Congo’ Bakker, asked.

“We can’t be certain, as no alien orders means nothing for the Hyperwave Relay to intercept,” Bradford replied, “but from our assessment of the retinue that assaulted Fireteam Oscar, we can expect primarily assault rifles and smaller personal arms. No standard rifle-calibre rounds are capable of penetrating the plating of your carapace armour; even our X-9 rifles only make a dent. However, they will cause bruising and fatigue, and may penetrate the softer areas, so stay in cover.

“Additionally, the enemy has been noted to field limited heavy weaponry, such as light machine guns and rocket launchers similar to our own equipment. These can cause significant damage; any fully automatic weapon’s volume of fire will cause broken bones and internal bleeding, even through your carapace. I shouldn’t need to explain the rocket launcher.” There was a few seconds of silence, as the squad again remembered Bryant and Barnes.

“Finally, a singular assailant was seen to be firing these,” Bradford continued, lifting a smooth conical shape off of the table behind him. “They’re made from alien alloys, and they can pierce your armour. These were being carried by a sniper wielding a highly modified Remington 700, most notably with a wider barrel and mill-machined detachable magazine. Any opposition you encounter wielding similarly modified equipment is to be considered a high priority target, along with any heavy weapons.

“In terms of personal defense, the assailants were dressed in plain clothes, possibly as a result of a need to infiltrate the ambush site. However, in a facility under their control they may well be wearing better personal defence, and while few earth-material body armours will resist your assigned laser weaponry for more than a single shot, unarmoured targets had been sufficiently genetically modified to resist two in plain clothes. It is possible that on-site guards will have been spared this in favour of restricting it to live combat personnel, but we’re not taking that chance.”

“It seems like they’re holding nearly all the cards, sir,” Sgt Cunningham noted, “even if most of their guns won’t do nothing. What do we have in return?”

“You have psionics, for a start,” Officer Bradford replied, nodding at Sgt Murray, who smiled a little cockily. “We’d been auditioning supplements for Fireteam Oscar prior to their mission; hopefully, your team already being prepared in that field will make a difference. You also have heavier weaponry loadouts than Fireteam Oscar did,” he said while pointing between Sgt Cunningham and Lt Hayashi, the team’s twin heavies, “which should give you the firepower to put down targets quickly and keep them suppressed.”

Cunningham budged Hayashi with his elbow and grinned. “Plus today you’re allowed to hit them with it,” he joked.

Hayashi fixed him a flat stare. “Could you perhaps not?” he asked, as two more of the squad tittered.

“Will that be all, sir?” Cpt Bakker asked, remaining professionally stoic.

“That’s all the intelligence we have, Captain,” Officer Bradford replied, “the rest will be up to you and your squad. Bring in who you can, take out who you can’t.” He lifted his head a little to address the hangar as a whole as he announced “Strike One, clear to deploy!”



***



The loud thwup thwup thwup of the helicopter’s blades prevented much conversation from passing between Strike One’s members as they made their final approach. The silvery alien alloy portions of their armour had been fitted with firm dressing, disguising them as more typical ceramic plates that matched the blue uniforms they wore underneath. Not much had been done regarding their laser weaponry, however.

As the chopper passed into the town’s borders, the men inside spotted police cars entering alongside them and beginning to deploy roadblocks. “They’re not keeping it subtle down there, are they?” Cunningham called into his radio.

“They don’t need to,” Murray replied, one hand on the long laser rifle across his lap and the other gripping one of the loops attached to the vehicle’s ceiling, “We’ve got a cover story, remember?”

“You really think a drug bust would require blockading a whole town?” Cunningham replied.

“Not our problem,” Hayashi countered. “Leave that question for the Council.”

Murray nodded out the window. “There’s our building down there,” he notified the squad, before picking up the slim binoculars hanging from his neck and peering through them. “Doesn’t look like there’s anyone waiting for us.”

“I’m gonna drop you guys on the roof, alright?” the pilot informed them, having been patched into the team’s comms system earlier. He could be detached from it by XCOM base personnel as needed.

“Sounds good,” Bakker replied, fixing a rappel line to the belt of his armour. “Strike One, ready to deploy.” Each of the team fitted their own rappel lines before calling their own ready. “Hazard, Nova and Shield, you’re team Alpha. Deploy first, followed by Collateral, Godfather and myself as Team Bravo.”

The doors of the helicopter slid open, and the first three members of the squad jumped out. Once they radioed their touchdown they were followed by their comrades. “We need to move fast if we’re to keep the element of surprise,” ‘Nova’ Hayashi suggested.

“Team Alpha, advance,” ‘Congo’ Bakker ordered before he’d finished unclipping himself from the rappel line, “Hawk, we’ve touched down, clear the area.” The pilot signalled affirmative before the helicopter tilted away, heading back towards the staging point.

‘Hazard’ Lefevre kicked down the roof access door without a second thought. “Stairwell clear!” he shouted, before quickly stepping down it with ‘Shield’ Marquez covering him, both pointing their weapons ahead.

“Team Alpha, advance,” Congo ordered as the assault reached the bottom of the stairs. The corridor he was in stretched away before and behind, with windows on one side overlooking the main floor of the warehouse.

“Looks like they’ve set up a proper machine shop down there,” Shield commented as he rounded the corner to cover the corridor leading behind. “Congo, which way are we going?”

“Team Alpha, take the back route,” Congo ordered, “Loop around and meet us back at the main stairwell.”

Hazard nodded, before setting forth with Shield and Nova close behind. The next door he kicked down revealed a small set of offices, housing two men with assault rifles. Nova and Marquez made short work of one of them before either could react, as Hazard plunged into the room and ducked behind the desks.

“Team Alpha, contact!” Marquez radioed as he and Nova took positions either side of the doorway, the first volley of return fire spreading brick dust around the area. “Looks like a standard assault weapon, nothing serious.”

Hazard popped up from the desk he was behind to take a shot, catching the attacker square in the chest with a spread laser blast. The man’s attention turned long enough for Marquez to deliver a follow-up shot, finishing the job. “Tangoes down, clear the room,” Nova ordered, stepping into the room with his heavy laser ready.

“Contact!” Collateral radioed in, accompanied by the sound of gunfire, “laying suppressive fire!”

“Rear office clear,” Hayashi  commented following his team’s sweep of the room, “Team Bravo, do you need support?”

“Negative,” Congo replied, “We should… Godfather, the guy on the right?”

“On it,” Murray replied, and there was a brief silence before a clatter of gunfire rang out. “Control established, but he’s resisting hard. I don’t think these guys’ guns do much to each other, either,” he commented, sounding strained.

“Noted, but keep him under,” Congo ordered. “Team Alpha, clear to advance.”

“Team Alpha, advance,” Nova ordered, as Shield took position by the only other door in the office while Hazard got ready to break through it. It broke down after the second kick, revealing a small server room; Hazard had barely stepped inside before calling in the clear. “This doesn’t loop around, Central. How old are those blueprints?”

“Wait, I- Merde!” Hazard shouted as he ducked, throwing himself behind one of the server towers as the wall to the entrance’s left being pockmarked with bullet holes to the sound of a heavy gun opening fire. “False wall! I can’t move!”

“Bastards!” Shield shouted, before half-stepping into the room with his laser rifle aimed at the wall. He took a few blind shots, not seeming to hit anything but causing the incoming fire to stop for a moment.

Hazard roared as he jumped to his feet and threw himself through the thin plywood barrier, revealing another attacker ducked behind a metal crate with a light machine gun a matter of metres away. Nova stepped into the middle of the server room and opened up, burning lasers pinning the foe in place while Hazard threw a grenade behind the box.

The grenade exploding in the small space forced the crate forwards, where it tipped onto its front and revealed the scorched but still alive attacker. He desperately tried to raise his gun, only to find that it hadn't survived the blast anywhere near as well before being shocked by Hazard’s arc thrower. “One captive,” the assault radioed, hauling the man to one side and looking over the back of the room properly. “This is a sturdy looking door…” he mused, studying the blackened panel of metal that had already tanked the grenade blast.

“Man there’s a lot of these guys!” Collateral shouted over the radio. “We’re making headway, but any extra haste you guys could put in would be welcome!”

“Strike One, this is Central,” Officer Bradford’s voice came over the radio as Nove signalled Hazard out of the way, levelling his heavy laser at the door. “Local forces have established a close perimeter and have already caught two non-combatant personnel attempting to flee. They’re now trading sparse fire with enemy combatants but are holding secure; most of the internal security look like they’re focusing on you.”

“Copy that, Central,” Congo replied as the door began melting into slag under the constant fire of Nova’s weapon, “We’ll make this quick to prevent them trying to break out.”

Hazard fired off his scatter laser at the nearest combatant as he jumped through the door, barely winging the man. Team Bravo was across the small upstairs storage area from them, with both teams now neatly flanking the remainder of the upstairs security; they didn’t last much longer under incoming laser fire from two directions.

“Team Alpha-One, we have secured the stairwell entrance,” Nova stated as he stepped up to the door clearly marked STAIRS. There was a loud bang from the other end of the storage area as Collateral kicked a door open, followed by shouts to surrender from both him and Congo.

“Team Bravo-One, we’ve taken the security room,” Congo called back, “two captives and enemy forces are without organisation.”

“They certainly look like they’re considering their chances,” Godfather called in, glancing out of one of the upstairs windows into the main body of the facility, “wonder if they’ll make a run for… ah. They’re busting open crates, and those weapons look modded.”

“How many?” Nova called back, pausing in his countdown to break through the stairwell door.

“Three assault rifles. And… huh. They’ve modded an LMG,” the scotsman said, hesitantly glancing at his rifle.

“Can you take the gunner down?” Shield asked.

“Better,” Godfather replied, dropping his rifle into one hand and raising a fist before his face. He extended it outward, as his whole body began to tremble slightly. “Jesus, these… guys are…”

“Team Bravo, move quickly!” Congo ordered, as he and Collateral moved to the upper windows to support them, “Doesn’t look like Godfather can hold him long!”

“Copy that,” Nova replied as Hazard stopped waiting for his countdown. The assault jumped and grabbed the rail over the lower flight of stairs, choosing to drop the whole flight instead of running down them. He hit the floor with a loud bang before quickly bringing his scatter laser up and snapping off a shot.

“Tango down, but not one of the modded guns!” he shouted, running forward to duck behind one of the workshop machines.

“Flash out!” Shield shouted as he paused on the stairs to throw a grenade past Hazard’s cover. It detonated loudly, blinding most of the enemy in the room. Hazard took the opportunity to fire off another shot as Nova ran into the room to support him.

Every one of the opponents in the room returned fire, mundane rounds tearing through the steel machinery the three soldiers ducked behind but only rattling their armour. One of them ran forwards, jumping a lathe to flank Hazard before opening fire on him with one of the modified rifles.

“Argh! Blessé!” the Assault shouted as his armour failed to stop hardened rounds from digging into his abdomen. He fired off a shot to make the man duck back as Shield took position at the bottom of the stairs and aided him. Nova’s heavy laser lit up, liberally spraying the room at large with red light.

A whirring and high-pitched whining sound emanating from above matched the noise from his weapon, as Collateral fired shorter bursts that began to thin out the number of enemies in the room. “I don’t have a great angle from here, people!” the heavy called out.

“It’s hell down here!” Shield shouted as he leapt towards Hazard and pulled him to the ground, both narrowly avoiding a second burst of specialised rounds that shattered the blockwork of the warehouse’s walls. “We’re fighting out of a corner!”

“Copy that, can anyone establish a flank?” Congo replied over the radio, before cracking an upstairs window with the butt of his laser rifle and lending his firepower to Collateral’s efforts.

“I… can’t...” Godfather grunted over the comms, “get him...”

“Got it!” Shield shouted, snatching a grenade off of his belt. “Flash out!” hew roared as he pulled the pin with his thumb and threw the explosive. It sailed cleanly through the air before landing in the back line of the enemy forces.

The effect was near instant. “Everyone duck!” Godfather bellowed as the machine gunner at the rear of the facility lifted his gun, bracing for full auto. Half a second later all words and thoughts were drowned out by the heavy thuk-thuk-thuk of the modified support weapon firing. In seconds it began to click on empty, prompting Congo to fire one last shot before the warehouse went still.

“Oh, shit,” Shield said, scrambling up from the floor and looking over the facility floor beyond the torn-apart machine before them. The warehouse-come-manufacturing plant was a mess, with the lifeless bodies of their opponents littering the spaces between punctured and broken machinery.

“Congo, got a moment?” Hazard weakly called from the ground, to be met with his squad leader dropping down the stairwell much like he had and pulling out a first aid kit.

“Good job with the flashbang, Shield,” Congo commented as he sprayed the assault’s wounds with a mixed disinfectant and coagulant spray.

“Godfather, you okay?” Nova radioed.

“Y-yeah,” Murray replied, panting. “I… I’ve never… so many and so quickly…”

“Easy, man,” Cunningham replied, placing a hand on the sniper’s shoulder, “can you hold it in until we get back to base?”

Murray nodded. “It’s not the first time it’s been a human life, but after this long fighting the aliens…”

“These assholes took Bryant and Barnes,” Marquez spat, “let’s not forget that.”

“We know that,” Hayashi replied, “It’s just… I kind of hoped after the war, there’d be a longer-lasting peace, I suppose.”

“Besides, this wasn’t a kill mission,” Lefevre grunted. “Central, how many captives we got?”

“The local enforcement picked up several non-combat personnel attempting to flee the building. Combined with your own captives we have nine total.”

“About a third of everyone that was here, then.” Cpt Bakker noted. “I’ll call that acceptable performance, people. What do we do with the site?”

“The local enforcement will keep it secured until a Council team can comb the area and recover artefacts,” Bradford replied. “More or less the same protocol as for a UFO site. Leave the captives you’ve taken where they are and report to the roof for transit back to the Skyranger, we’ll handle it from here. Good work out there, Strike One.”