UFO FanFic - Chapter 2

[Hankosha]

****CHAPTER 2 ****

 

Hankosha was in a field. He watched carefully, A grey alien was turning towards him. He took careful aim and fired. The alien turned and the shot missed Hankosha fired again. The shot hit the alien, but the alien got off one last shot, which hit Hankosha in the leg. Hankosha felt a pain in his leg and went unconcious. He soon found himself in a room with strange instruments poised over his body. A alien examined him and spoke in its own language. Hankosha blacked out again.

 

Hankosha woke up. He thought to himself 'It was only a dream, it was only a dream.' He looked at his leg. The cast was scorched and a piece of the leg was burnt. He sighed to himself. Maybe it hadn't been a dream after all. Then he realized that the scorching had been caused by the computer's shorting out. He looked at the door. His roomate was gone, taking his turn on watch. Hankosha headed out of the room rubbing his neck. He needed his dragon charm and quickly. He headed for a room and searched the room for his charm. after his search, having found nothing, He carefully restored the room to complete order. But Hankosha had failed to notice a fallen toothpick, a sign showing his entry, by the door as he left.

 

Well, one down, about 40 more to go, Hankosha thought to himself...

[Zager]

Squad One arrived at the firing range at 0500 hours, some of them clearly suffering from hangovers. Corporal Hennings was there, waiting for them. "You are to gather go to the armory and suit up, then report to Major Tolstovich on the surface, sector 9, within twenty minutes. If you are late, my God have mercy on you, because the Major most certainly won't. Full battle gear."

 

"This isn't what we normally do, why the change?" Tammy asked. Corporal Hennings turned to face her.

 

"That is because the Major is now in charge of training, Private Hilliard, and while his method is different than the old one, the main difference is that. Any more questions? No? Dismissed."

 

Twenty minutes later

"Discipline. Courage. Intellect. Tactical skill. Team work. Stamina. These and more are the traits a soldier should have," Ivan said, pacing in front of the line of soldiers. "I am Major Ivan Tolstovich. I served twenty years in the red army. Six years as a mercenary. Three years as a CIA SOG team trainer. I am here to make you the best soldiers on the planet, and I will do so even if it kills every last one of you."

 

Ivan stopped pacing, and turned to face the squad. "During my time as a SOG team trainer, I trained over two hundred soldiers, and I'm proud to say that almost fifty of them are still alive and kicking."

 

"Now, intellectual exercises. You will all be required to learn Russian by the end of the month. If you know Russian, then Chinese. The quartermaster has the relevant books for you."

 

"I don't see why this is necessary, sir," Tammy inquired.

 

"To expand your mind and keep it exercised. Your mind is your best weapon in the field, and learning additional languages is an excellent method to exercise your brain. Now, we will start with a basic twenty mile run in full battle gear. Or rather, you will start."

 

Corporal Hennings pulled up in a jeep next to Ivan, who climbed into the passenger seat. "Follow the flags that have been set out, I will be watching you. Private Hilliard, you've got point."

[Loonie]

Terrick was there standing at the ready with his gear and sharp as ever, noticing several other soldiers in the line having problems doing the same as he was due to an overdose of alcohol last night. A few of them also had bruises on their faces or on other parts of their body, including Green who had a nice black eye. The fight which Martin and him started last night did not exactly serve to make the Major look at Terrick as a model soldier, but then again that would work to his advantage, since if he kept too perfect a record he might again seem suspicious to the Intelligence division of X-Com. The plans that he had stolen were almost completely studied and Martin already had an idea of how to acquire certain parts of HWP technology. All he needed to do was iron out several tiny glitches in his plan and the corporation, which had recently started pressing onto him severely, would get what it wants.......for now.

 

As the order was given to begin the run he followed closely behind Private Hilliard and considered how he would get to work on studying Chinese. It was never really required during his time with the corporation, since there were few important rival corporations based on chinese territory. Still it would be interesting to note the differences between it and Japanese once he would finish, though that was DEFINATELY not a time that would come soon considering the enormous number of characters that the Chinese language had. He then continued pacing behind the medic, concentrating on his respiratory organs so that the flow of air would be easier to the body during the extensive run.

 

He wondered about the stamina of Hilliard in front of him. He believed that the reason as to why Corporal Hennings had put her at point was because she could keep a nice balanced pace for both fresh recruits that have never seen the army and for army veterans. If someone like Rick or Warlord was put in the front a lot of people would start lagging behind, quite possibly Martin himself, since endurance never was seriously needed during his time with the corporation earlier. Though he had excellent stamina compared to ordinary people it was still not quite at a level of an experienced soldier. Still he knew that if he concentrated on his breathing it would help greatly in keeping a good pace, maybe even a nice pace to warm him up as opposed to exhaust him, despite the heavy gear on his back.

 

*inhale* *hold* *exhale* *wait* *inhale* *hold* *exhale* *wait*......

[Zager]

As the last runners came past the last flag, Ivan's jeep came to a halt in front of them. "Break time," he said. "The water is over there, you have ten minutes. Meet me in sector fourteen afterwards."

 

Ten minutes later

Sector fourteen had been set up with various rocks, trees, and bushes to resemble a typical combat zone.

 

"Now, comrades," Ivan said. "We are going to be training for standard cover. You will advance from one end of the field to the other."

 

It seemed easy enough to the soldiers, but a few of the more observant ones had noticed how Ivan was loading a clip into an AK-74, and that some of the other trainers were also holding various assault rifles, and a few light machine guns.

 

"When we start shooting at you with blank rounds, you are to determine from which direction the firing is coming from, find the closests cover and get there as quickly as possible."

 

It still seemed easy enough, as the soldiers headed off towards the starting point. Then Ivan called after them. "Oh, and to make things interesting, one in a hundred rounds is live. We won't be trying to hit you, but I wouldn't recommend standing in the open for long once we start shooting."

 

As Ivan headed towards his position, General Genega fell in pace next to him. He had taken a break from the paperwork to come observe the training session.

 

"Nice bit a motivation there, Major," he commented. "But were you serious about having one in a hundred rounds be live?"

 

"Of course not," Ivan said, grinning slightly as he took his post, and raised the AK-74 to his shoulder. He racked it. "It's one in sixty rounds. Now, if you'll excuse me."

[The Veteran]

As the soldiers prepared themselves for the Major's next part of the training it was nearing noon. And as it was approaching noon in Australia, Trigger was approaching home in England.

Now with half of the world behind him and his previous airbase below him Trigger brought his Hurricane to a slow hover over the base's main runway. Slowly the Hurricane floated along the runway as if powered by a gentle breeze. The engines purred to a tickover and then fell silent, holding the craft barely ten feet above the tarmac. Slowly Trigger let it descend and he spun the craft though ninety degrees to face the base's main hangar complex.

As the craft touched the ground the cockpit slid open and several lights fell on the pilot from the various towers and masts of the airfield. Standing in the entrance of the hangar stood at least twenty of the personnel and aircrew he had served with before coming to Pine Gap. Now with the lights on they stood and cheered with their arms in the air. A few ran towards the aircraft as Trigger stepped down.

"Officer McKenna said you were back in town again for the new year." said one of the pilots that had run up to him.

"Don't I come back every year" said Trigger throwing his arms around his old co-pilot. "You've certainly moved up in the world since I last saw you. Which ones yours?"

The pilot turned to the hangar and pointed to a jet black fighter craft. "That's Jessie over there and that's my co-pilot, you remember Jack?"

"Slacker Jack? Your co-pilot? I started off here as his co-pilot! Who did he piss off?"

"Who didn't he! It's thanks to him I moved up! You see that blonde one over there? She's mine too. Has been ever since your last visit."

"Good job Guy, have you learnt her name now?"

The two pilots laughed and together walked over to the hangar. The other crew who had gone to the Hurricane were now either busy admiring it or were following Trigger and Guy excitedly to the hangar.

"I see the novelty still hasn't worn off here then?" Trigger asked Guy.

"Nowhere near. Everyone still has the idea that you're off doing all this fantastic work fighting communism and aliens for some secret foreign organisation in the middle of a desert."

The two men roared with laughter as they headed inside the base.

As they entered the hangar Trigger was approached by a middle aged couple who greeted him with the warmth only parents can.

"Has it really been another year already?" said the man. "I was just getting used to it being quiet again..."

Trigger laughed and threw his arms around his father. "Don't worry old man I'm only here for tonight. I have to get back to base before the end of the Australian day so I'll be leaving at about 10am."

"You really expect to make it all the way to Australia in two hours?" came a voice from behind the three figures. "I'd love to see what these guys have given you out there"

"Happy new year sir" said Trigger smiling and saluting smartly as he turned to greet his old Commanding Officer.

"Not yet soldier but the thought was nice." replied the man returning the salute. "It's nice to see you again but I guess we'll have to wait another year for any stories you have if you're off to Oz again so soon."

"Same as always sir. I'm off with the folks to see in the new year in Blighty then I'll be back for a pint with you and the guys."

"Drink driving is one thing but a two hour journey to Australia tanked up on beer?"

"I think my Hurricane was made in America, it's easier to fly than a paper plane"

Those in hearing distance laughed and then Trigger saluted once more and turned back to his parents. "I believe we have some catching up to do?"

[Spaceman42]

Dherzhin had regained some confidence in the rest of the groundcrew after the events of New Year's Eve. While he wasn't exactly happy with leaving Gilbert and Heather in charge of the planes when he wasn't around, he knew they were more than capable of maintaining them. Prone to tweaking and modification, yes, but capable. He had volunteered - or rather, *been* volunteered to 'DJ' on the PA system during break hours. Right now, he was playing - quite appropriately, he thought - the song Unidentified Flying Object by UFO - a bit of mellow rock to soothe the minds of the people on break...

 

* * *

 

General Genega was looking at a wall of glowing screens, only peripherally aware of the music on the PA system. It was his duty - no, his priviledge - to report to the UN committee that the Extraterrestrial Combat Unit was now fully operational, and ready for combat. True, some of its members were a bit green, a little undertrained - but Ivan was taking good care of that, wasn't he? Yes. Genega allowed himself a brief smile before turning back to the screens. Several were displaying the status of various parts of X-COM; others monitored the major news networks; still others displayed public opinion in funding countries. There was no trace of red on any of the screens - nothing was happening that might concern X-COM; at least, not yet. The General walked over to his desk and picked up a black telephone handset.

 

"Sirs, I wish to inform you that X-COM is now fully mission-capable and on schedule. We are as ready for an alien encounter as possible without actual contact. Our troops are conducting various field exercises to keep them 'up to spec'; our research staff are conducting some experiments which might prove quite useful when fully developed." A pause. "While this aspect - development of new technologies - might not have been completely anticipated in X-COM's charter, the technologies will be made available to the general public; however, their distribution will be controlled by X-COM. This is not to deprive you of access, but to protect our researchers' reputations and prevent... 'unauthorized'... access of the data. Thank you."

 

Genega hung up, anticipating the effects his message would have on the next committee meeting. He turned back to his screens. Somewhere, something was going to do something - a something that would quickly draw the full might of the freshly minted X-COM upon it. Until then...

 

The screens never blinked. Neither did Genega.

[Rasicar]

Donovan's body ached as he quickly downed a few mouthfuls of water. "God that guy is a pain in the ass, reminds me of my cross-country coach, only with a dash of PCP and mescaline," he muttered. He'd been captain of his cross-country team in college and still ran routinely, however never in full battle gear. This was nuts. "Why the hell did I sign that transfer paper?" he asked himself.

 

************************************************************

 

He remembered how it went. He was the class top score, top runner, and had the most kills in the war games that he played in Westpoint. After he graduated, he was approached at his current place of residence at midnight by a group of men in suits, and a military general whom he'd never heard of before. His first reacton was to tell them to take a hike, and that he had to transfer off to basic in the morning, but they told him that the transfer had been put on hold till he heard them out. He shrugged, and let them in the house, saluting the General as an automatic response and the man just said, "Son, I'm off duty, give it a rest." He did and sat down in one of his chairs.

 

"How would you like a chance to provide your services for your planet?" one of the suits asked.

 

"What? Is this some kind of joke," Donovan had asked.

 

"No joke, Donovan. We're serious, answer the question: How would you like a chance to provide your services for your planet?"

 

"Why me?"

 

"You have the best scores in class, running and war games at Westpoint, that means that just just made the minimum grade to be eligible."

 

"What are the stakes?"

 

"High."

 

"Did Markinson put you up to this, because this is almost convincing. Let me guess, aliens are landing... no... terrorists are threatening to send a nuclear weapon down to the core of the earth and detonate it unless they are given one billion dollars? Is that it?" Donovan always enjoyed jokes, but not when it woke him up. He was already in a bad mood in that it was New Year's and he had to go to bed extremely early jso he could get up and get transferred to basic training the next day.

 

This time the General was the one to speak up, "Son, this is no laughing matter, and it is no joke. This is a serious situation that effects the entire human race, now do you want to help or not?"

 

"What is it then?"

 

"We can't tell you that, all we can say is that you have been selected to undergo a very select, elite, form of training and a chance to fight, albeit more then likely die, against the worst enemy you'll ever face and the whole planet is the stake," the General said, "Now are you in or are you out? No time to think, training starts tomorrow, we can get you out of here and to the destination in four hours, that will give you two hours of rest, more then some will get."

 

Donovan quickly rolled it around in his head and decided to go with his gut, "Sure, what the hell."

 

"Good," the other suit said and all members of the room stood up. "Pack your bags with as little as you can spare, your new uniform will be given to you upon arrival at the base."

 

Donovan nodded getting up and heading to the other room to pack his bags.

 

************************************************************

 

Six hours later he was here starting his training as the veil was removed from his eyes. "Aliens, jesus, I should have stayed at home," he joked to himself.

 

He just got over to section fourteen when he heard that psycho Major speak up.

 

"We are going to be training for standard cover. You will advance from one end of the field to the other."

 

He thought it would be easy at first. Just run to various points of cover. Looking across the field he saw multiple areas which could provide cover for at least three people at once. Then he noticed the Major and some of the other training officers loading clips into AK-74's and m4a1 assault carbines. "I don't like where this is going," he muttered quietly.

 

"When we start shooting at you with blank rounds, you are to determine from which direction the firing is coming from, find the closest cover and get there as quickly as possible."

 

The entire group started to go over to the starting position when they heard the Major speak up behind them. "Oh, and to make things interesting, one in a hundred rounds is live. We won't be trying to hit you, but I wouldn't recommend standing in the open for long once we start shooting."

 

Donovan just shook his head and got down on the 'starting line.' Looking over to the rest of the group he saw a bunch of strong, athletically built people, however he also noticed some were a little weaker then most, "What are they doing here," he thought. However, his thoughts were interrupted when he heard the shooting start. The entire group bolt like cockroaches when the lights turn on, scrambling for whatever kind of cover they could get their hands on.

 

Donovan jumped behind a rock, looking to his six to make sure that he wasn't being fired on. He felt rock chips hit his face as one of the live bullets hit a little too close for comfort, "One out of a hundred my ass, we just started," he said.

 

He looked around the rock and saw another open place next to a boulder, twenty yards ahead. He looked around him and realized that he was point man and everyone else was waiting for him to move. "Screw it," he thought to himself as he made a sprinter's dash towards the next boulder. As he was running he felt dust rise up from right behind his feet as another live round landed. At that moment he leapt towards the cover, not taking any chances; letting the adrenaline and the fight or flight instinct take over.

 

He landed on the ground, slamming his shoulder on the boulder. Wincing slightly at the pain he looked around and saw that another gunner wasn't 'actively targeting' him, but the gun was aimed close enough so that he jumped away from the cover as yet another live round hit close to where he had been standing. He ran towards a bush and dove in it. He looked ahead and saw that he was twenty yards from finishing point. He looked back behind him and signalled the group to move on; most of them had been behind him most of the way, some were lagging back. He looked back ahead and saw no cover between his position and the end line.

 

Looking to the right he saw a small little trench dug into the side of the course; right next to the trench was a training officer with a rifle. It wasn't even remotely aimed at him, the man was continuing his focus on a group still stuck behind a boulder. Moderately trained combat instinct took over, he rushed the man with the rifle; with less then five yards and coming from full cover, he was able to sweep the man's feet out from under him and kick the rifle over into the bushes off the side of the course, just as he dove into the trench and crawled to the finish. As he was crawling he looked behind him and saw four others following his lead.

 

After he crossed the finish line with two people behind him, one woman and one man, he turned to them and said, "you lead," as he fell flat on his rear in exhaustion. Another thing he noticed as he crossed the line was the shooting had immediately stopped.

 

The Major ran over in a huff and dragged Donovan to his feet.

 

"WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

 

Donovan came to immediate attetion, he'd figured something like this would happen.

 

"Sir?"

 

"Assaulting an officer, do you think they'll be sympathetic during your court marshal?"

 

"Sir, permission to speak freely?"

 

"Granted and it had better be good."

 

"Sir, there was no cover for the last twenty yards except for that trench and there was the equivalent of an enemy guarding it. I removed the enemy to allow the squad safe access across. The instructions were to get across and we did."

 

The major took a deep breath, mentally strangling this private before him with his eyes. He exhaled and just said, "Fall in private," and turned and walked off.

 

The rest off the group stood there looking between Donovan and the Major until one of them went up to Donovan and clapped him on the back. "Congratulations, you just impressed the head training officer, and just made an enemy for life. Way to go rookie, I'm Rick," he said extending his hand.

 

Donovan took it as they started walking towards the next area, "Donovan."

[Carlos the Jackal]

Jasper leaned against the side of the small truck and turned to Tim.

 

"You know, sometimes life throws you a well deserved bone"

 

Tim glanced up from the crimes against humanity the military loved to label 'Training'

 

"I could not agree more"

 

Jasper noticed the Major walking up the hill towards him and paid lip service to 'standing at attention'

 

"Do you Australians not salute?" grumbled the big Russian.

 

"Only when wearing headwear, sir. Otherwise we just brace"

 

"Not Australian army here, you salute or you go down with them, where you belong"

 

"Yes sir" replied Jasper as he executed a perfect salute, his hand about three inches in front of his right eye, right where the rim of his imaginary slouch hat would have been.

 

Ivan shook his head and muttered something in Russian. "You, Day... how about you?"

 

"Never been in the military, sir, don't know how" replied Tim, poker-faced.

 

Ivan glared at the pair. "Training is finished. Load the equiptment into the truck and go back. I will march the troops back to base"

 

"Yes sir" replied the two of them in unison.

 

***************************

 

By the time the Major had begun to march the weary troops down the hill, Tim and Jasper had placed all the training equiptment and rifles back into the truck and had finished laughing at the Major's expence. Tim had taken upon himself to check the unspent ammunition and had not found any live rounds.

 

"Heh, he had me worried when he said that"

 

"Why? *We* weren't getting shot at, its all good"

 

"True, that"

 

"Get in, we're off"

 

The truck sped past the marching troops, earning many dirty looks as Paul and Tim hung their grinning faces out the door windows and cheered. As they sped away from the baleful stares Paul turned to Tim.

 

"I used to hate PT"

 

"After all that crap we took about being spooks..."

 

"...Of trustworthy character! what a joke, huh?"

 

"Responsible for maintaining our own fitness, to assist with the physical

training of our fellow soldiers... heh, you bagged a sweet job there"

 

"I still think we have to learn Chinese, though..."

 

"Your kidding, right? We just dont tell him we know Russian... what are you, dense?"

 

"Oh yeah... heh... call me a 'lazy smart bastard' will he? I'm so trustworthy I'm to keep myself fit... phase one of training involves ice-cream and beer"

 

"We'll train together"

 

***********************

 

Entering the planets atmosphere above Europe, the craft remained undetected for a good half-hour as it headed towards Africa. As the radar screen showed the impossible, a tech at the Rammstien Air Base in Germany waved his CO over.

 

"Sir, you have to see this"

 

The officer observed the screen, and maintained a cool exterior while he hastly remembered the line he was ordered to inevitably give.

 

"Son... what I'm telling you, you tell no-one. Our R and D boys have come up with some pretty fast planes lately. They are currently being tested. Two flights have taken place already, but they had an IFF. Surely you noticed the speed.

 

"Uhhh.. sir i do recall *one* scedualled flight that seemed abnormally fast... I just assumed it was a glitch"

 

Well son, these are real craft, and this here is another test. No IFF this time, testing the stealth. Rest assurred, these planes have the stars and stripes painted on the wingtips"

 

"Yessir"

 

"Everytime you spot one of these, tell me. I have to report back the detection to the lab boys, understand?"

 

"Yessir"

 

The officer rushed off to his office, picked up the phone and dialed a number.

 

"Hello, this is Blackmore and Son's accounting, how can I help you?"

 

"Unidentified craft detected at high speed"

 

"Upload radar feed now"

 

The officer inserted the key he had been given two weeks ago along with the stetchy breifing where he had been given the line he had used. He placed the key into the small black 'box' that had been installed on the underside of his desk, then twisted.

 

"Uploading now"

 

"Receiving, out"

 

The officer hung up, then wiped sweat from his brow and took a few shaky steps around his office. He knew what he had to do, but not why. He only had his own theorys. He would have liked to believe they all *were* U.S craft on tests, but knowing the military, if they were test planes, he'd have been given yet another different story....

 

Half a world away, Klaxons sounded throughout the underground X-Com facility as a single red dot appeared on the tactical world map in the command area. In the mess, Tim looked up from his bowl of ice-cream at Jasper.

 

"Whats going on, Paul?"

 

"The real deal, I think, mate"

 

"Shit..."

[The Veteran]

9am in the United Kingdom and for the first time in years a sense of duty had come over pilot Trigger. Now back in the cockpit once again he was ready to return to Pine Gap and his friends and family were all there to see him off.

 

"I guess it's better than nothing," came a voice from below the Hurricane, "but will you at least be back for Easter?"

 

Trigger laughed, "I'll try mum but I can't promise anything, there is a war on you know..."

 

"What's that?" she asked.

 

"Hmm?" Trigger snapped out of it and turned back to his parents on the ground. "Oh nothing just thinking out loud I guess."

 

"Come on, let's give him a bit of space to get airborne," said TJ's father putting his hand on his mother's shoulder.

 

"Make sure you stay in touch" she called one last time as the cockpit began to close.

 

After a few minutes of waving and yells everyone was a fair distance away and with a sound like an explosion the Hurricane's engines pulsed into life, almost bringing a tear to Trigger's old officers' eyes. Another pulse was let off and even those standing over twenty meters away felt the air slam against their legs as it bounced off the runway.

 

With a final wave Trigger lifted the Hurricane off the ground and spun it to face east along the runway. Slowly he taxied to the end of the tarmac over a cusion of air, then the tail of the Hurricane dropped slightly and with a tremendous explosion the Hurricane's main engines burst into life and a few seconds later it was gone.

 

Unaware that Pine Gap had just recieved a UFO report Trigger decided to do what he called a 'Grizzly' after Dave, it's inventor. Tapping the computer onto it's autopilot, something he hated to do, Trigger accelerated his Hurricane to 2158 knots in a matter of seconds thrashing the recommended top speed of 2100. Sitting back, he watched the various continents of the world speed by as he left British airspace and entered the skies of Europe. Twenty minutes after departure he passed the Rammstein air base and an hour in the air put him directly above Egypt.

 

"Maybe two hours was cutting it a little fine," Trigger thought to himself as he passed what he thought was the Suez canal. "Still, I'm going to be back before midnight without any problems..." With that he checked his Hurricane's various instruments and dials and went to sleep...

[Tammy]

A strange sensation seemed to grip the base as the Klaxon was followed by the assertion that it was "not a drill." A somewhat dazed Gia found herself seated in Interceptor Two awaiting permission to take off. The officer who'd directed her to this assignment had warned her that she'd be up against a very unpredictable craft. The little information that had been gleaned so far had indicated that the craft was quite small, even smaller than the Interceptor, but astonishingly agile and fast. If the craft chose to run instead of fighting, they'd be left in its proverbial dust. At just that moment, it was time to take off, and all thoughts of what might be were replaced by thoughts of what to do next.

 

 

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the base, Squad One was being assembled in the hangar, looking somewhat bleary but sizzling with anticipation. Tammy carefully checked her medikits and surreptitiously studied the rest of the squad, sizing up who would most likely need what. It seemed obvious that Rick and Warlord would likely need the most patching up, but seeing who would need other treatments was more difficult. Everyone had been exhausted after the day's rigorous training, so stimulants would likely be a must. Seeing Rick reminded her to check her sidearm, too. All seemed to be in order.

 

Conversation was kept to a minimum as the squad loaded into the Skyranger for its first trip out of the hangar on a real mission. Tammy, Rick, and Warlord exchanged glances that said that they were ready for anything, but no one seemed eager to break the silence that reigned supreme. An almost imperceptible hum emanated from the Skyranger, indicating that it was powering up to take off. Each member of the squad leaned back, lost in thought-and of course, speculation.

[Spaceman42]

As the squad loaded, Dherzhin gave the Skyranger a good lookover. No obvious damage, no corrosion, nothing out of place. Nothing, that is, except for the "modified" Ghostbusters logo that someone - probably O'Reilly - had carefully airbrushed on the landing ramp. The logo featured a stereotypical "Gray", as they were commonly called, overlapped by a big striked circle. Dherzhin chuckled at that - he'd reprimand her for it, but it wouldn't go down on paper.

 

[Of course, Dherzhin didn't go *inside* the Skyranger, so he didn't have a chance to see the 'artwork' O'Reilly had painted there... Suffice it to say that the troops were *very* entertained.]

 

Dherzhin walked around to the front of the craft, slipping in his ear protectors, and signalled the pilot that all was well. His duty was discharged, and only God and the squad could do anything about getting it back in his hands.

[Loonie]

The Skyranger began moving slowly. Martin Terrick could feel it. But he didn't give it much thought, just as he didn't contemplate the wierd paintings inside the Skyranger at which some of the troops began to laugh. Whilst the artwork was indeed quite exemplary, considering the tools that the person who had drawn this must have used, Martin didn't feel the least bit like laughing at them.

 

A memory flashed inside him of that last meeting with the corporation, the one where that sumg Japanese bastard made the extortion all too clear. Terrick was happy that he was going towards a mission where he could forget that, since during a combat mission there wasn't that much to do when it came to espionage. The only thing that he could do was swipe some of the alien technology or weapons at the site, but he knew that the X-Com team would be checked for this kind of stuff when they got back to Pine Gap. All he could do during this mission was to survive and hope that he didn't have to commit too many atrocities.

 

He looked around the craft at his "teammates". Despite being exhausted from the training exercises, he noticed in most of them something in their eyes which went along the lines of..."This'll be some mission." Terrick however knew how the mind of a soldier changed as he or she went into more combat missions. First mission: "We're gonna kick some ass". Second mission: "Crap. I hope I don't screw up too much." By mission four or five all that they could think of was: "Let's just survive this and hope my wife nad kids have something to look foward to at the end of this war."

 

War was never a pretty sight. No matter if you went up against any *evil* world nation, the aliens or satan himself. It would always produce casualties, devastation and, for those involved, the wish that it was all just a bad dream. He wondered how this one would affect him personally as he and his team could feel the Skyranger lifting off, the G forces starting to become more noticable...

[Snikers]

The small red rubber ball flew up in the air, brushed the ceiling and dropped back into Jennings's dark hand. A

thin film of sweat transferred to the ball caused it to briefly shine as it was tossed into the air for the upteenth time.

Ed Dodge, suitably annoyed at this point, lashed out with his superior reflexes and grabbed the ball out of mid

air. Jennings, surprised by the sudden movement, shrank back quickly and banged against the Skyranger wall.

"Don't do that." Dodge said simply. He held out the ball to Jennings.

Jennings took back the ball with a strongly hostile look. "I need to. It helps me relax."

Dodge noticed that Jennings rather expertly compensated for the movement of the Skyranger when tossing and

catching his rubber ball. "Looks like you need to relax fairly often."

Jennings was silent for a moment, though still using his ball in the same irritating fashion. "You ever think about

it?" He finally asked.

"What?"

"Death. The knowledge that any mission you go on could be your last. I'm not worried about dying. I'm thinking

of after."

"You mean like heaven or hell?"

"I'm an atheist. I couldn't feel comfortable in many churches anyway, with my...choice of lifestyle. But...just think

about it. Your mind shuts down, your brain dies. You don't exist anymore. You simply aren't. All your feelings, all

your dreams, your ambitions, your faults, your memories, it's all blotted out. Never to be again, you're never to

think again, you're gone forever and can never return. And there's nothing to be done to get you back."

Dodge was silent for a moment. Then he actually struck the ball in midair, sending it across the Skyranger and

bouncing off Tammy's head, who looked up questioningly.

"Jesus, man, what a wuss." He said absently, but loud enough for Jennings to hear.

[Rasicar]

Donovan had boarded the Skyranger with squad one quietly, not saying anything. Almost everyone was quiet; all thoughts were on the mission. Who would make it home, who wouldn't? While they had been suiting up he had heard people commenting on how the squad was going to rip E.T. a new one and be back home before the coffee got cold. When they assembled in the hanger, all that changed. Most specifically, it changed when the loading doors to the hanger open and people started to enter; definitely a sobering moment for a lot of hot-heads. This was it, training was over and the real action had started and everyone was thinking the same thing, will it be me?

 

He had is own thoughts on the matter which he kept to himself. Rather then bounce a ball nervously against the paneling like Jennings, or insult introspective thinking like Dodge, whom he had been sitting next to hear his comment, Donovan closed his eyes and tried to meditate. He opened them and looked over at Dodge after he said his comment. Then he looked over at Jennings and nodded to him.

 

"Hey, don't sweat it too much. If you think about it, it won't be like you'll be around to notice the boredom. Personally I would be interested to know what 'non-existence' feels like."

 

This seemed to calm the man down a bit - only a bit though, his breathing slowed slightly and the ball bounced less frequently. Dodge looked over at Donovan.

 

"Who are you? When did you get folded into this squad?" he asked in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Looking around he then added, "Hey, where's Hiller?"

 

Warlords voice came from across the Skyranger, "Last minute personnel change. Hiller rolled his ankle in training, the doctor's think he might have pulled something. They ordered a couple days of non-com status to let him recover. Donovan is filling in for him for the time being."

 

This seemed to settle the matter and everyone became quiet again. Donovan was glad that Warlord answered, he didn't want his second interaction with the people he'd be fighting alongside to be an arguement over whether or not he deserved to be with them. He just started to close his eyes when he heard a voice pipe up his name. He looked around for the caller and it called again, "Hey Donovan," he turned to the speaker. It was someone who'd he heard was known as Day, 'Timmy' Day.

 

"Yeah," he said, still in his relaxed, meditative position.

 

"I saw you out in training, where did you learn that stuff?"

 

"What stuff?"

 

"When you took down that officer, that was pretty balsy, where did you learn it?

 

"Shotokan."

 

"Huh?"

 

"Karate. I studied it for about five to six years when I was a teenager."

 

"Cool," Tim said with a smile on his face. He went back to looking around and thinking his own thoughts and kept quiet from there on out.

 

Suddenly a thought struck Donovan; something he'd meant to do when he was in the locker room, gearing up, and then took with him on the plane. He looked around for Rick and then mentally slapped himself for stupidity when he realized the man was right across from him.

 

"Hey Rick," the man looked up with an expectant look on his face.

 

"Huh?"

 

"Here," Donovan said, reaching inside his battle gear. He produced a small white, sealed envelope and passed it over to him.

 

"What's this?"

 

"In case I don't make it back. Send it to the address listed when you get the chance or when they let us start sending mail. Don't worry, there isn't anything in there that doesn't need to be edited."

 

"If you don't mind my asking, who's it to?"

 

"My parents."

 

Rick nodded and put in inside his own suit. Donovan leaned back and closed his eyes again and started to meditate. He noticed, shortly before the trance started taking effect, that the nervous bouncing the rubber ball started to increase in speed again.

[JellyfishGreen]

Rammstein Air Base had lost radar contact with the UFO twenty minutes ago. Commander Genega had little to go on but continued to put his pieces into play. "Lt. Forrester, what's our interceptor status?" "TRIGGER is four hours inbound, we're about to brief him. RAVEN is in the air. Vectoring her to last known UFO position at cruising speed."

"What have we got for satellite passes?" "Nothing for thirty minutes," replied the intense operator minding the international intelligence feeds. That left Genega with a rather unsatisfactory sweep area 1000km across.

 

Serendipity arrived as a Quantas passenger jet from Rome to Sydney passed over Ethiopia. Copilot Reilly spotted sunlight glinting off something just above the curve of the earth. He nudged his pilot, who looked at the radar. Sure enough, something was flying out there that they hadn't been told about.

The radar blinked and refreshed - and the blip had closed more than half the previous distance. Both crewmen invountarily tensed in their seats. The collision warning alarm hooted once as the silvery craft flitted close, then away again. They barely had a glimpse of the saucer shape before it was out of sight, heading away south.

Nothing on earth made abrupt directional changes like that, thought the pilot as he let out the breath he had been holding. And it had shown up on radar - and on the collision warning. Would the black box confirm their report? Would they come off sounding crazy? Sure, you heard stories, but then anyone could make up a story, right?

The copilot was also shaken but called it in. "Umm, Flight Control Singapore, this is QF016, I think I want to report a flying saucer."

 

The Airport Traffic Controller listened to the sketchy details and noted the plane's position. "Yeah, they might think you're crazy. My advice is, pretend this never happened."

 

A new procedure sent to him recently was fresh in his mind. It specifically dealt with reporting Unidentified Flying Objects.

"The American Air Force must be collecting another Blue Book," he thought. He opened a folder and dialled the number inside, and punched in a few codes representing his password and the location of the sighting.

 

The flash traffic message immediately got the intelligence operator's attention, and shortly after that, Genega's. "We have a confirmed sighting. Change both interceptor vectors to new location. Get the Skyranger into the air."

Above the buried base, the huge Doppler radar dishes turned beneath their camoflaging domes to bear on the target.

[The Veteran]

"Hey, you with me?"

Rick turned back to his left where Warlord was sitting. "What?"

"I said, have you got any sixes?"

Rick looked down briefly then returned his gaze to Warlord stating simply "Go fish."

"How can you two possibly be playing cards at a time like this?" asked a slightly baffled Tammy who was also seated next to Warlord and at the front of the Skyranger.

"At a time like what?" said Rick from behind Warlord.

"A time like what? We're on our way to the first battle in the war for humanity! A time like that"

"We've both been stationed here for years," said Warlord. "We've probably flown more 'top secrept' missions than the rest of this entire team. You learn not to be nervous after so long."

"Got any sevens?" asked Rick.

"What?" said Tammy in disbelief.

"Any sevens..." repeated Rick looking up. "Not you, Warlord..." Rick nodded to Jack.

"I just don't understand you guys... I really don't." said Tammy as she watched Warlord hand over a few of his cards. "How about you?" said Tammy turning to face the soldier seated opposite her. She almost continued but she realised he wasn't paying attention.

Patrick O'Malley had been put into squad one to replace Rolston indefinitely. What had happened to the soldier he didn't know but it worried him nonetheless. This was his first mission and he was more than a little nervous, his mind on many things. He sighed. What had he done to deserve this...

 

Over the Red sea Hurricane One was still maintaining it's top speed and then some more besides. For five minutes now a buzzer had been sounding in the cockpit and now it's occupant began to stir.

Trigger got up slowly and stretched then as his senses became clearer he heard the alarm that had woken him and sat up with a start. Blinking hard and shaking his head Trigger searched the control panel for the ource of the noise. Finding a small red button beside a speaker he flicked on his comm system and answered the call.

*Trigger you stupid bastard what the hell are you playing at! You know you never fly with your comm system off! Where the hell are you?*

The sobering voice of the Lieutenant Forrester brought Trigger to his senses immediately and he replied sleepily "Lieutenant my leave extends for another two hours, do you mind telling me what the problem is?"

*We have a UFO sighting, now do I have your attention?*

[Loonie]

Martin watched Rick and Warlord with much interest. Their experience with the military and with operations during this base certainly did aid in them not being nervous. Unlike Tammy he could understand what this was all about, but he wondered of something else. Were they really just playing cards because they were so calm or was it so as to get their mind off of what might be awaiting them? Were they really calm or were they putting up a bit of a show perhaps so as to offer an example to the rest of the squad?

 

Martin knew the necessities of doing so if that was true. If you want to make your squad have some faith in you and your judgement then you cannot afford to look scared and nervous about what might happen. You have to be seen as decisive, a person who knows what he's doing and someone who believes that what he is doing is right. Martin was glad he wasn't squad leader, because it meant that he wouldn't have to pretend in that role too. He had done enough pretending since arriving to Pine Gap already.

 

He decided to lean back against the craft's wall, slowly close his eyes and descend into a slumber, the humming of the Skyranger's engines providing a monotonous noise which somehow actually helped Martin go to sleep. As he finnaly fell asleep, the rifle which he had been clutching till that point dropped out of his hands and made a clank noise as it hit the Skyranger's metal floor.

[JellyfishGreen]

The words finally came over Doc's headphones. "Skyranger, your mission is GO."

Doc straightened up. The Skyranger had been idling engines hot on the surface runway. He pressed the button for the "passenger deck" intercom. "Acting Corporal Thomas, our mission is go. Is your squad secured?" Warlord's voice crackled back. "All you babies in your baskets? Right, Lt. France, squad is secure." "Ready for launch," finished Doc. He turned back to his instruments, checked the readouts, and smoothly applied the several thousand horsepower of the two jet engines that scooped his brick off the runway and threw it into the air.

 

**

 

"Nice shiner, Green." commented Jasper, as he leaned back in his chair.

Green sheepishly smiled back, careful not to smile too much and irritate the swelling. He couldn't remember much of his fight with Terrick, partly because he'd been drunk and partly because it had been over so quickly. He was pretty sure he had lost. Terrick...what had Hiro said about Terrick's martial arts skills?

 

His hangover had been a curse that morning, as their Corporal had the squad out of bed and in formation early - to impress on the new Major that Squad 2 was just as ready for action as Squad 1. Squad 3 had done the same. The Major had taken them up on it and had been working all the soldiers through some ruthless training - except for Jasper and his friend Tim, somehow - when the call had come in to suit up and get prepped for a mission. Green, like the others, had felt a mixture of relief and confusion. A UFO? So soon? Nontheless, his professionalism took over and he had his gear together in less than the twenty minutes allotted.

 

They had been seated in the green room for the past hour, weapons across their knees, duffel bags of equipment under their seats, in case something unexpected took Squad 1 out of action before they could launch.

 

The second launch was felt as a dull rumble through the armoured bulkheads. The PA confirmed it - "Skyranger is away." The tension rushed out of the room. Jasper wanted to rush to the theatre to follow the mission, but Green just felt rather tired. He sat a minute in the empty room before following. Something about his roommate Terrick was nagging him.

 

**

 

"Confirmed, Doc." The Flight Commander (FLICOM) Lt. Forrester turned to Genega. "Skyranger is in the air, Squad 1 at full mission complement of 10 members." Full except for the Rocket HWP, that is, thought Genega. It had been pulled from the mission due to some sort of sensor bug, which the Engineering team hadn't been able to resolve, and the Cannon HWP was still only half assembled. Perhaps he should have put in extra soldiers as replacements - but it was too late now.

[Zager]

"Incredible, just, incredible," Zager muttered, as he watched the radar reports come in. He had set up his computer to download the radar information on the UFO as it came in, in order to make initial judgements about alien technology. It was clearly far in advance of human technology.

 

The propulsion system clearly does not function via Newton's third law of every action having an equal and opposite reaction. No, some of the turns it had made could not possibly be done by shooting something out of the back or sides. Not even the most optimistic theories on ion propulsion believed that such acceleration could be achieved in a vacuum, let alone the atmosphere.

 

And then the inertia. No known or theoretical material (aside from neutronium, possibly, but given the density of neutronium, it was unlikely to be used as construction material) could possibly survive, with structural integrity, the intertia that would be placed on it, let alone any sort of biological being. And the reported sightings of aliens didn't indicate that they were made out of any super dense material that would be able to survive without being made into a splotch on the wall by the intertia (no deep footprints, for example, at sightings).

 

It was clear from the radar reports alone that whatever propulsion the alien craft was using, it was not a typical thrust drive. Gravitational, possibly, or maybe magnetic. Zager's pencil scribbled over his notebook as he recorded these notes. He had to get ahold of the drive system, unlocking its secrets would advance human knowledge immensely, and ensure that he received another Nobel Peace Prize.

[JellyfishGreen]

TJ punched the new coordinates into the autopilot with one gloved finger. There was no need for him to go to manual flight until he was at the edge of his radar range, assuming the UFO didn't have better radar. But being TJ, he planned to fly the last 300km on manual. If there was anything different in the plane's handling or the atmospheric conditions out there today, he wanted to know about it.

 

Less than twenty minutes later, he was over Nairobi. The transition from autopilot was effortless and he experimented with the yaw slightly to feel the air on the wings. His screen was showing the radar feed from Pine Gap, giving his position in relation to that of the target designated UFO-1. "FLICOM, this is TRIGGER. I am nearing radar range. Permission to go weapons hot."

"Permission granted, TRIGGER." Forrester reminded him, "Rules of engagement are do not fire until fired upon. We don't want to come off as the aggressors if they suddenly decide to open negotiations."

"Sure, but it's not like he's going to warn me with a missile lock first. I don't even know what his weapons look like when they're pointed at me."

 

The radar marker for UFO-1 changed colour, indicating the interceptor's own navigation radar had gotten a reflection.

"I've got the bogey onscreen."

"Can you confirm his vector?"

"He's approaching me. Must have heard my radar go active."

"He took a sniff at a passenger plane on the way here. Maybe he's just curious."

Trigger could see the flying disc now.

"He's making me nervous. Can I try activating my target acquisition radar to warn him off?"

"Doctrine says at that range we can start defensive measures..yes. Authorized."

Trigger flicked the missile radar switch and quickly got a target lock tone on the hovering disc.

 

The UFO abruptly changed course, flicking sideways and breaking the radar lock. It shot away towards the horizon at ninety degrees to Trigger's flight path.

Trigger cursed and grunted as he brought his Hurricane around in a sweeping turn and began pursuit.

"We'll have to rewrite the doctrine," mused Forrester.

 

The UFO and Trigger appeared to be heading for Madagascar.

"RAVEN, course change required." Forrester gave her a waypoint somewhere in the middle of Madagascar.

"TRIGGER, fuel is at safety margin. Return to base."

"Reserve tank is full. I can just hang on at cruising speed for another ten minutes and still bring her back."

"That's an order, pilot. There is only one US military base between you and us and they aren't cleared for you to drop in on them if you run out early." Forrester had a slight edge in his voice.

"Ahh...feck it. You win. Returning to base."

 

"RAVEN, don't use craft radar, just follow, given our guidance."

She sped across the Indian Ocean, her flight computer assuring her that all systems were in the green. The map screen put her within a hundred kilometers, so she began staring out through the perspex.

 

A minute later, she caught a silvery glint. "RAVEN here. I have a visual. Turning to bearing 255." The wingtip vortices left contrails in the cold air as she banked.

"RAVEN, Command confirms visual. Can you train the gun camera onto the target?"

"Just a sec..." She lined up her nose cannon, brought up the camera feed and cranked the magnification. "OK, camera recording target UFO-1. I have a thermal reading. Hmm. It's hot on the leading edges but not the back. Guess they're not using jet engines."

"Continue pursuit, RAVEN. Remember, if it behaves in a hostile manner - "

"You better believe I'll change course if I see that green glow again."

 

She followed the glint over the mountains of Madagascar then pulled up to keep her distance as the UFO began to slow and descend. She saw another glint approaching - and Trigger, keeping radio silence, waggled his wings at her before striking for home.

 

She smiled. "UFO-1 appears to be landing." A minute later she reported the craft had touched down in the jungles of Madagascar.

The command team looked at each other. "We have a mission for the ground crew," declared Genega.

"Gia - can you give us a size estimate?" asked Lt. Forrester.

"Smaller wingspan than the interceptor. Guessing two crew - if they're the same size as us - and if they have anything like our engine requirements."

She began circling the area, with one eye on the UFO and the other on the fuel gauge.

[The Veteran]

*Are you going to buzz around all day or do I have a flying buddy for the trip home?*

"You know the rules," said Gia smiling. "I have to stay and patrol the area in case this thing lifts off again."

*You do?*

"Did you even read your briefing?"

*Nah I've been here for years, I don't think the rules apply to me anymore...*

"I think tactical command might disagree with you."

*They always do...*

"And that doesn't tell you something?"

Trigger paused slightly before saying finally, *so are you coming or not?*

Gia couldn't help but laugh. "Look, you may have been here for years but I'm still easily replaced so I think I'll hang around until the skyranger get's here"

*Suit yourself... But your fuel probably won't last you long enough to stay in the air for that long. I've been to England and back without a refill and I've got just enough left to make it home...*

Gia took another glance at her fuel gauge. "I can stay in the air another half hour at least. After that I'll be on my way. Is that ok with you?"

*Yeah I guess... I'll see you back at base. Don't stay out too long!*

The two pilots said their brief goodbyes and Trigger departed for Pine Gap, keeping to manual flight the whole way home. He'd had all the rest he needed for the day and he wanted to stay alert just in case there were any more saucers about...

 

The skyranger was just now approaching the southernmost of the Indonesian isles. Had there been windows, the view would have been amazing...

"SNAP"

Warlord and Rick sat staring at each other in dismay.

"She's good," said Rick, "even better than you. And this is your favourite game"

"Yeah well, she'll never understand poker," replied Warlord jokingly.

"Are you guys even trying to beat me anymore?" said Tammy who was currently holding forty-five cards and picking up another seven...

"No, we're letting you win." said Warlord laughing. "What can I say? I must just be having an off day..."

"I see why you guys do this now. It's pretty relaxing..."

"You're just saying that because you're winning..."

"Rick, don't sulk, I beat you all the time"

"Yeah but you're not a she" Rick caught the glare in Tammy's eye and quickly added "I'm joking"

Thankfully she seemed to accept it and returned to shuffling the cards.

"So what should we play now?" Rick asked turning to Jack. "Maybe we can win another game before we get to Africa..."

"Do you know Pontoon?"

Rick and Warlord turned to face Donovan.

"Has cards ever been so popular?" said Warlord turning back to face Rick.

"We'll deal you in," said Rick and he took the cards from Tammy.

[JellyfishGreen]

The gray sheen of the UFO hung fuzzily on XCOM's main screen, a screen capture from the Interceptor's camera overlaid with the map of the world. A small cross marked the landing site.

Genega had the full attention of the command staff as he walked around the ops center, checking computer displays and firing off orders.

"Forrester, get those mission co-ordinates and LZ info to Lieutenant France. And get me a status report on Lieutenant Munt."

"Chief Scientist Gomez, get 6 techs ready with whatever recording and analysis equipment you think they'll need. You have 20 minutes. Squad 2 can help carry some equipment - but don't go overboard"

"Major, tell Corporal Saiko to get Squad 2 suited up and into the Osprey for site security detail."

"Jenny, notify our overseas heavy hauler that we may have a job, have him await further orders."

"Forrester! get Cheeseman on deck! Have the ground crew prepped the Osprey?"

 

***

 

Doc's Skyranger was well out over the Indian Ocean. *No flight plan, no land for miles... not much chance of a rescue if we go down. Covert ops _does_ have it's downside,* he mused.

The radio crackled to life with Lieutenant Forrester's voice.

"Lieutenant France?"

"Speaking."

"Ground mission confirmed. I have your LZ co-ordinates and information for the squad."

*Now it gets interesting,* thought Doc. He checked the flight computer.

"Data link open. I can patch you into the intercom so you can address the squad yourself." Doc had been reading the manual. He heard the spread-spectrum data burst go into his computer, brought up and and read back the co-ordinates, then flicked the switches to link in the intercom. Tammy's voice came through, "Hit me, I mean, twist me one"

 

"Um, Corporal Thomas?" came Forrester's unsure voice into the hold.

Warlord sat up from the card game. "Yes lieutenant?"

"Is your squad able to receive a briefing?"

"Squad, listen up" shouted Warlord into the cabin, waking a few dozing soldiers. "Lieutenant, the squad is listening."

Sounds of a throat clearing. "Ground mission is confirmed. The UFO has landed in Madagascar, in uninhabited jungle, six miles from the coast. Its a gray disc, ten meters across, we estimate a crew of two. Local time is 1pm, local weather is thirty degrees centigrade and drizzly. Your mission is to attempt to capture and secure the UFO, with its pilots and crew alive if possible. You are authorized to use deadly force if you are threatened or attacked. Because of the unknowns in this situation, your corporal is authorized to use his own initiative as per directive 116 to complete the mission."

 

***

 

Squad 2 had themselves and their gear back on the flight deck in fifteen minutes. The technicians - despite having rehearsed this the day before - were still arguing ten minutes later over what equipment to take. The Osprey lifted off eventually, the tiltrotor aircraft making good speed. But they were considerably slower than the Skyranger. Whatever happened at the landing site, they wouldn't be able to do a thing about it for another six hours.

 

***

 

Everyone in the Skyranger was awake for the last hour of flight, some straining in their jump seat harnesses to see out the small portholes. The knees of those sitting opposite nearly met in the cramped compartment and an array of gear was stacked in the darkness by the rear deployment ramp.

"I'm going to set us down a quarter klick away," said Doc. "This brush is dense enough they shouldn't be able to see us land."

Warlord was checking out the known LZ details on his portable map display. "Set us down on the far side of the ridge to the southeast, and we'll work our way in."

"I'll try. It'll depend on the jungle canopy." He was close enough to make out individual trees now. At least it wasn't _night_. He slowed the craft to a near hover, then spotted a small clearing north of a stream, and made for it.

 

The descending Skyranger baked dry the wet grass of the muddy riverbank, then landed with a thump in the soft soil. *Can't get a better landing than that,* he thought, as he dropped the landing ramp with a clang. *Cold LZ, too.*

 

"MOVE OUT" bellowed Warlord. "BY THE NUMBERS! SECURE LANDING SITE! GO GO GO"

[Snikers]

Jennings exited the Skyranger, rifle loaded, safety off. He scanned the area quickly. Everything looked alright;

but with all the trees, jungles, fauna...who knew?

Was he going to die out here?...

Rick and Ki-Tat moved with Jennings as he slowly advanced. Ki-Tat's eys never stopped moving as he continued

to look about him for aliens.

Jennings felt a tic in his face twitching and felt overwhelmed by his feeling of impending doom.

A pair of black, almond eyes looked out between two closely knit trees. The gray alien shifted a half centimetre

forward as it saw three bipeds cautiously picking their way through the fauna.

Three bipeds. Clear LOS. Clear LOF. Don't seem to notice me. Well within range. Inferior beings. The alien took

a second to collect and determine the factors. It lifted its purple rifle and aimed.

Jennings took another look to his left - nothing. Look to the right -

Rick only saw a flash of green, a wisp of smoke and Jennings hitting the ground. He immediately dropped to a

crouch tried to look through the jungle. A saw a flash of sunlight reflecting off of something purple, but it disappeared

immediately, leaving only a swaying branch. Ki-tat let off a surpressive burst into the trees, but in return lanced

a volley of green, zipping only barely over their heads.

Rick rolled to the left, green bolts going the earth where he had just been. He kept looking into the trees and

didn't notice the green flashes coming to bear on him -

However, he did notice as the supposedly dead Jennings rolled over from his back onto his gut and fired into the

trees. Apparently seeing from an angle neither of the other men where blessed with, he fired a series of bursts

into the jungle.

The alien felt bits of bark flying across his skin as bullets shook the tree next to him. It reconsidered its options

and disappeared into the jungle.

Ki-tat continued to scan for the alien, sure it was about to circle about and press its attack. Jennings ran his hand

across the front of his uniform; the almost-on-target shot had burned a strip of fabric away. He winced as his fingers

brushed the skin underneath, touching first-, maybe second-degree burns. He knew how close he came to death

and surpressed a whimper.

[Zager]

Gaston slid the drum into his Calico M950, and started cranking it up, getting the pressure up so the ammo would feed properly. His X-Rifle was next to him, he had already modified it slightly as most special ops personnel were apt to do with their weapons.

 

"Weapons and ammo," came the dispationate voice of the corporal.

 

"Check," came the replies from the squad.

 

"Armor."

 

"Check." Gaston patted his suit. Type four spectra with ceramic plate inserts over his heart. It could stop anything below a sniper rifle or an armor piercer.

 

"Grenades."

 

"Check." A few fragmentation grenades and flashbangs were attached to his combat webbing.

 

"Good. Squad two is good to go."

 

Elsewhere on the craft

Three crates had been loaded aboard already, and a fourth was coming on.

 

"That should be sufficient equipment," Zager noted. "For now. I'll need more once I understand what we're working with."

[JellyfishGreen]

The operation commander Jack and his Blue fireteam, consisting of Tammy and Tim, had plowed straight for the ridge while Red and Green fireteams took the left and right slopes. The vegetation was thick and it made for uneasy footing as they followed the trail broken by the two members of Gold team scouting ahead. They had just caught up with Ed and Martin on the reverse slope of the ridge when the muffled sound of an electrical discharge closely followed by the echo of automatic gunfire made them all whip their heads around. "Sh*t" blurted Tim. "Someone's made contact" They scrambled for cover.

 

Tammy quickly checked her map. All team members were still represented on the display - which means they all still had a pulse. Jack grabbed at his comm set. "Fireteam Red! Report" "Red-1 here. We took fire and returned fire, it's quiet now. We've one wounded, assessing severity." "Thanks, Rick. Fireteam Green! Report"

"Green-1 here," came Shuwei's voice. "Um, it's all quiet - " She wanted to ask more but knew her commanding officer needed the news more than she did.

 

"Rick, who's hit?" he asked.

Ed held his prone position behind his rifle, peering down into the jungle on the far side of the ridge, alert for movement. Terrick stood with one hand on a tree to steady himself and scanned their immediate surroundings.

 

"Jennings," came the reply. "It burned through his combat vest, and some skin burned away, but I think that's it."

"What did you see?"

"Didn't see who fired, but we saw a kind of purple chromed barrel poking out of the bushes after the flash."

"Muzzle flash?"

"More like a big green bolt, an energy bolt."

"Did you hit him?"

"We don't think so, we heard something moving away and there's been nothing since."

"Do you need a medic, Jennings?"

"Naw," came the reply. "I'll be good to go in a second." Bravado was returning to his voice.

 

Jennings sat up against a rock and took a swig of water from his canteen while Rick wrapped a field dressing around the wound on his ribs. Ki-tat stood a few yards away with his gun sighted on the shadows where the barrel had emerged.

 

"What do you think, Tim?" the leader asked his intelligence advisor.

"If he gets past us, our exfiltration could be compromised. We'd better guard our back door."

Jack thought quickly and spoke.

"Ed, back to the Skyranger. Keep watch with Doc. Martin, stick with us. You're now Blue-4. "

"Yes, sir" Ed started pushing his way back down the hill and was quickly lost from sight.