All the Impossible Things on My Plate
There are many levels of severity when it comes to encroachment and violation. On the lesser end of the spectrum might be an instance of someone stealing your lunch from the office fridge or taking your reserved parking space. You might be getting ready to leave for work to find that your car has been prowled or return home after a weekend getaway to discover your home has been burgled.
Then there are times when someone invades your home. When they hurt and kill people you’ve invited to live with you, people you have come to love like they were members of your family. Some of those people may have taken up your invitation believing that it would make them safe. That they would be protected by people like you who have chosen to take up arms and throw yourself in harm’s way. But then, when harm shows up on the doorstep while you are out protecting them far afield, they have to put their own fears aside and become the protectors in your stead.
Two objectives came up at the same time: One was to help X-Com field agents in Lansing, Michigan in their efforts to establish resistance comms with other X-Com assets, to finally begin making this a global resistance rather than a local one. The other was the report of a particular class of UFO touched down near Bakersfield, California. Fayth had a personal interest in the UFO sighting, as this class of alien vessel might contain construction drones or their spare parts that she could rescue from the slavery of the Collective. As much as she wanted to run to the electric puppies, she felt it more appropriate to put the needs of X-Com ahead of her own desires—sort of a theme with her, lately—and prioritize the former objective.
Until the idea was broached that Brock could lead a strike team consisting of the construction drone Omaha and Dr. Emily Halter, the veterinarian to Bunker Alpha, see if he could recruit some aid and investigate the UFO and hopefully recover the drones that might be onboard while the main assault team deployed to Lansing. Fayth approved this plan, and Bunker November was almost completely emptied out of its Rangers for several hours, with only the wounded and the reserves left behind.
Which was enough time for Captain Bolivar and his Marine Raiders, lying in wait nearby, to move in and strike at the heart of Bunker November. They were acting on the orders of Lt. Colonel Alexander Nilssen, the commander of Bunker Juliet, located beneath Ft. Meade, Maryland. Nilssen’s goal was to have his men capture—by any means necessary—Major Miranda Abnett. Major Abnett was one of the sleepers who had recently been recovered from the Gene Clinic during Operation Showdown, the attack on the Collective stronghold in Olympia.
Bunker November was only defended by a handful of Rangers and a small number of Captain Newton’s MPs who served as bunker security. They were overwhelmed by nearly a full platoon of elite MARSOC troops who not only blew in through the elevator and rappelled down into the bunker, but also forced their way in through the hangar, as they seemed to know the override codes to open the bay doors!
The garrison tried their best to hold the attackers back, and Roscoe Farnsworth in the bunker security station expertly directed defenders where they were needed most, as he monitored the attack on every front through the base’s CCTV network. With a little time bought, Ophelia Bellaci and Collier corralled all the base personnel into the most hardened, inaccessible place in the entire bunker: the cells of the Alien Containment Facility. The only ones who couldn’t make it were the handful of Rangers in the sick bay, still recovering from wounds suffered in Olympia. The few able-bodied Rangers left behind prepared a last stand in the bunker’s hospital to defend them. Ophelia and Collier then waged a stalwart defense of the lab with the mounted repulsor fields installed there, but it just wasn’t enough. They wouldn’t be able to hold out forever on their own.
In California, Brock and Alpha’s Fireteam Paladin staged an impressive assault on the grounded UFO, even allowing a small number of routed Sectoids to revolt and overthrow their Muton commissar. These alien revolutionaries threw in behind Brock and Paladin and cleared the vessel, but not before Red Hand gunships responded with their own ground forces. Brock was cut off from Paladin and told them to bug out; he and his new boots would hold off the Russkie clones long enough for them to escape with Dr. Halter and Omaha. Reluctantly they did so, leaving Brock behind to ultimately be captured.
With mission success finally achieved in Lansing, Fayth was presented with the spoils: A communications device she could use to contact all North American X-Com assets. When she reached out to Bunker Alpha to test it, she learned of the fate of the second prong of her attack. The desire was strong to light out directly to Brock’s aid, but AJ’s cooler head pointed out that the Red Hand craft was relatively slow compared to the Firestorm, and it was entirely feasible for them to follow up at the UFO landing site, secure it, and give chase to rescue Brock. This, Fayth quickly agreed, was the way.
Two fresh squads of Rangers tore into the battered remains of the Red Hand forces left at the Bakersfield UFO, having been already worn down to bloody stumps by Paladin, Brock and the four construction drones on board he had befriended. Three drones survived and were hustled into the Firestorm’s cargo bay. The scene was quickly secured, and Fayth heaved the ship skyward once more to overtake Brock and his captors.
An aerial duel ensued that found the Red Hand gunship completely outmatched. The only thing in their arsenal that could save them was the value of their cargo. Slick, who had fixed his power armor, was able to post up on the Firestorm’s loading ramp and shoot out a powerful grapnel to help tether the gunship, which allowed AJ to essentially zip-line onto the enemy craft. Faced with this incursion, the Red Hand squad leader, one of the execrable Gurov clones, pulled the trigger on his bluff and shot Brock through the heart with his powerful railgun, leaving their friend’s corpse to be tossed out the back hatch of the gunship.
Putting his trust in the tech and skills of Slick and Fayth, AJ plunged off the top of the gunship after Brock, to lock up with him in mid-air. Fayth plunged the Firestorm down after them while Slick let his hold on the gunship go to instead latch onto his plummeting teammates. AJ felt the sweet impact of the robotic hand and knew right away that this bit of insane bravery wouldn’t be his last. The grapnel reeled him and Brock back into the Firestorm, and when they were secured, Fayth reoriented her vessel with a certain vengeful gleam in her eye.
Using the aid from his cybernetic eye, AJ, firing from the cargo ramp, was able to punch through the windshield of the gunship and take out the pilot. Reorienting his aim to the co-pilot, they were able to force the Red Hand troops to finally surrender. With some shuffling of personnel, Lt. Easton was put on board the gunship to take over the controls while the Rangers subdued the Red Hand troops. The gunship was thus captured in mid-air, along with the Sectoids that Brock had managed to rally to his cause.
Forced to pilot the Firestorm, Fayth could not leave the controls to go to Brock’s aid, but Dr. Rhys was there. While he was not a medical doctor, he didn’t need to be; he could clearly see that Brock was beyond help. With a hole blown through the center of his armor, through his chest and out the back, there was nothing anyone could do to save him. Brock was dead, and Rhys had to break this news to his new Commander.
Heart full of silent rage at plucking this defeat from the jaws of victory, Fayth wanted nothing more than to get everyone back home. The day could not possibly get worse…until it did. They learned of the attack on Bunker November and could only listen to the frantic battle reports from the Ops Center while they screamed back to base. The only hope that filled their hearts was that they wouldn’t get there too late.
Making it back, screaming in at full speed and raking the earth with their massive boom carpet, the team discovered the invaders had blasted the main lift and used that as their breach point. With a sit-rep from Douglas, the team learned that the invaders—A full platoon of MARSOC Marine Raiders led by one Captain Bolivar—had demanded they turn over Major Miranda Nilssen and had attacked when they refused to give her up. Douglas had taken her to the labyrinthine depths of the basement to hide her among the years’ worth of supplies down there and defend her with his budding psionic talents. He figured this would be a good position because the only access point was the cargo lift in the hangar, where Omaha was now stationed while Fireteam Menace and Trample de-assed the Firestorm and surged into the base like the cavalry to save their friends and loved ones.
While the battle played out in the curving corridors of the bunker, the hangar bay door opened. A shimmering figure sneaked up on Omaha and neutralized him by slapping some sparking restraint to his hull. Then this figure made its way into the basement in pursuit of Miranda.
Fayth, AJ and others homed in on the ACF, where Roscoe reported the bulk of the fighting was taking place. They arrived in time to see a wounded Ophelia and Collier finally being taken out of the fight after holding on for so very long with the lab’s repulsor turrets. Menace provided the hammer to their anvil, however, and were able to quickly subdue the remainder of the Marines.
This left Douglas and Miranda in the basement with their stalker. The mysterious attacker had knocked out Douglas and was about to abscond with Miranda when the rest of the team showed up to stop him. He was in a bit of a pickle; he couldn’t really use Miranda as a hostage, and it seemed a shame to go this far just to skip out empty-handed. A fleeting proposal was offered, a throw-away concession of truce and cooperation that the infiltrator would never bite at in a million years. Until he assessed the situation at hand, the forces that had pushed him here to these extremes and…something must have clicked. He accepted. He dropped the stealth field of his armor and introduced himself as Mr. Vespers; one of Dean Vickers and Ian Church’s counterparts from Bunker Juliet. After some brief but tense negotiations, he arranged to aid Fayth and company in capturing Captain Bolivar, who was waiting outside the bunker for the delivery of Major Nilssen.
With Fayth standing in for Miranda, Vespers delivered her to Bolivar. When her hood was removed and the deception was revealed, her backup team leapt out of hiding to take Bolivar safely into their custody.
The action of the day finally drew to a close, and there was much that needed to be sorted through. There were dead to be sorted on both sides, captives to be processed and damage to be assessed. Fayth had to leave much of this to the people she trusted; her place was in the sick bay, helping to heal the wounded. AJ led the logistics of the cleanup effort and Rhys attempted to decompress and come to grips with the events of the day by focusing his attention on the dead who were piling up in his lab.
Rhys’ efforts to calm down were completely derailed when one of the sheet-covered bodies rose up on its slab. It was Brock, looking far more alive than the hole in his chest would lead one to believe. Needless to say, this nearly made Rhys lose his mind; the possibility of being stuck alone in the morgue with a zombified version of Brock, until he discovered that Brock was just as shocked and surprised as he was. As reunions were made and the mysteriously revived Brock was reunited with his friends, Rhys shakily withdrew to solitude, realizing the enormity of the work ahead of him. The Methuselah serum, the psionic influence among the deceased Marines, the optical stealth tech of Vesper’s armor, and now, Brock’s strange new talent, this supposed “Blessing of the God-Mother.” All these avenues of research stretched out before him, like roads whose ends he felt would be forever out of his reach. One after the next, these new doorways opened up right beside several others still unexplored; the Gatekeepers, the Lost and the faction the Purifiers in Lansing belonged to, just to name a few. A moment’s peace to revive his mentor, Professor Thaddeus Kingston, from his induced coma seemed to slip ever further from his reach, even as his mind might hold the thing Rhys wanted most in this world: Answers. Professor Kingston had been with Rhys’ fiancée prior to the sweeps. He might know her ultimate fate, or even, like the professor himself, if she might still be alive.
