X-COM Season 4 Role-Play Journals



Name: Steve "Dozer" Maltus
Rank: Rookie
Class: Redshirt

Steve was nervous. The four walls of his bunk were familiar, but seemed to be closing in around him. Not in a "I'm having a psychotic breakdown" kind of way, but Steve was certainly feeling like it was a little stuffy in here. Nothing seemed to fit in place right anymore, with the walls that much smaller.

He walked around, changing the position of some of the small knick-knacks on his desk , rearranging books to fit on the shelf better on the shelf, but every time he looked back there, everything was too small for the space again.

He'd written in his journal, but multiple scribble marks showed that he just couldn't find the right words for anything anymore. Everything was right, but when re-read, there was just something off about it that he couldn't place his finger on. Knee bouncing, hands always moving, Steve probably hadn't stayed in one place for more than 10 minutes at a time.

He'd finally placed his gun down for the third time that day, the polish bright and gleaming off of the tan colored exterior. He sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair, the stress nearly radiating off of him. It had been too long. Too long since something had happened, too long since something attacked. Even if it wasn't with him on board, there was something easing about having boot out there on the ground, fighting off this threat. Yeah, he worried about the crew on the ground, but they were the best. Same thing with his old unit before they... before they didn't come back. But you just accepted it before.

Waiting was different. The anxiety, the silence from the outside, it was enough to make anyone squirm. Routine was key here, but Steve hadn't planned on this down time. Someone freaked out at one point and broke all the mirrors in the gym, so it was down while they replaced it. And Steve was left without much to do.

He suddenly stood up, nearly knocking his chair over with the suddenness of it. He needed to get out. Do something. Anything. He remembered that the officer's school had opened not too long ago. Admittance was voluntary for the lower ranks and those teaching was chosen from a few of the vets, but Command had been putting some classes together to help teach the rookies what to prepare for out in the field. Even as it crossed his mind that it might be a good idea since Rebecca had put him in for the next wave of away teams, his feet were already pacing out the door.

The veteran leading the class that day appeared to be Rebecca herself. She almost looked like a different person and it took a second for Steve to recognize the woman who was now displaying very short black hair and a pair of glasses on her nose. He remembered how he had spotted the black roots in her otherwise brown hair and understood how she had gone back to her original color by simply cutting everything that was tinted, but he didn't believe Rebecca had been wearing contact lens before. Had she stolen the pair from someone for show? If there’s one thing that hadn't changed in her persona, it was the cheerful attitude she had displayed the first time they met during the workout session. Standing proudly in the middle of the room, she was frenetically pointing her laser at a giant picture of a Sectoid, explaining how funny it was to make their big heads explode, with a joy in her voice that was off-putting for some of the studying rookies.

When Steve sat in an unoccupied chair, Rebecca noticed him and pointed the laser right in his eye. He lifted his hand to protect it from the annoying light while grumbling a complaint.

“Rookie Maltus, you’re late!"

Steve looked away at a clock on the wall.

“I was informed this would start at 14 pm, which is right now. Now, can you please point that laser somewhere else?”

She did, but then added, “war doesn't wait for those who are only ready on time! What you have to be ready for is anything that may not go as planned. Constant vigilance!”

Rebecca seemed so excited at the idea of acting like a teacher that Steve suspected that the truth was more about her being unable to wait for the exact time she had herself set for this class. As if she had heard his thoughts, Rebecca pointed the laser back at his chest.

“Now, Mister-knows-everything, tell me, how many genders can be found among Sectoids?

Steve looked at the very bouncy example of an instructor, her huge smile and eagerness very much present in everything she did. He looked to the other 'students' in the class, seeing everything from boredom to shock to slight smiles and he could only guess the types of stuff she had covered so far in class.

"My question back would be, 'Who cares?'" He responded simply. "It doesn't matter if it's a male or female or some third gender that only reproduces via budding when the sun sets just right. You'll shoot them all if they are shooting at you." A cocked eyebrow pointed at Rebecca indicated how he felt about the question as he leaned back and settled into his chair.

"But, but..." She tilted her head, scratching at her chin with her index finger while looking for an answer. "Ah, but! What if they have different personality patterns depending on their genders! What if one day you come across some Sectoid's precious eggs and it suddenly get ten times as big in anger because of some motherly instincts! Yes, yes, that's why it's important! At war, information is half the battle, fools! You should never dismiss any potential information about the enemy! Knowing how to shoot will lead you nowhere if you can't understand your opponent tactics and movements!"

Before anyone could object, she continued her train of thought with a more serious tone, and was now walking in circle near the first line of seat, hands behind her back. "Actually, our ability to shoot grey aliens is worth horse's shit". It was the first time anybody at the XCOM base had heard Rebecca swears. "There are billions of people who can shoot things on this planet. Those fuckers have spaceships, they are abducting us like cattle, and that's probably what we are for them, animals. If you act like one, if you just seek and destroy, then you are just like the shark in the ocean: while you are chewing one or two surfers per year, those weak humans are killing millions of your kind through various sophisticated means."

She stopped, turned, and started walking the other way.

"What you should focus on is two things: one, survive. Two, learn. It has been more than a month, but we still know almost nothing about those space travelers, and we keep getting more questions each time a new damn abomination takes its turn to try to murder us. The Sectoids can help each other through unidentified invisible means, the Thin Men have poisonous properties we have yet to see in action, the floating cyborgs bastards can fly and dominates us, the squids robots are somehow able to hide themselves in plain sight and take us by surprise, and who knows what more crazy shit we are going to see n the future. I don't want you to see those aliens as cardboard targets that you only need to shoot at, I want you to stalk them as if you were a crazy person with a mad crush on them. And I also want you to look at the scientists and answer any of their requests as if they were the earthly messengers of your God, because they are the ones who have qualifications which aren't worse horse's dung."

She stopped, back at the middle of the room.

"What I can teach you is how to survive - at least against the Sectoids and the Thin Men, refer to my colleagues for the others - and the rest you will have to learn it on the field and hope that you were correctly selected for this operation and are able to do so."

From that point on, Rebecca spent the rest of the class talking about the witnessed abilities and tactics of the two mentioned aliens species, with a few speculations taken from the scientists and some personal advice from her on how to handle them in close combat.

Steve was watching her mimic exactly how she jumped on the Sectoid in question for this example, and right before she pulled the trigger, a crackling came over the intercom.

"Lieutenant Kuklinski, Sergeant Robinson, Squaddies Largo and Ritofuto, and Rookie Maltus, report to the Ready Room and suit up, Mission in 10." Rebecca smiled a very predatory smile as she looked back to the classroom.

"Well then, we'll have to finish the story after I make some new ones. Maltus, let's go and spill some blood." Steve, for all of his anxiety and nerves for this very moment, felt calm as a still pond. It was exactly like being on the black squad. Nerves until it was time. Then it was all training.

"Let's go Ma'am. Their mamas won't recognize em after we're through."


Active Member
Dec 5, 2013
Squaddie Ryan Chen, Assault Specialty.

Personal Log, April 18th

So, I've managed to get a good spot to stuff the ... er, souvenirs I've accumulated the two times the Commander sent me out.

Now I just gotta figure out who the hell I can trade them to.

Things around the base have been getting quieter. People are settling in, and forming friendships. Although, a couple individuals are starting to show signs of strain. I heard Bradford's had a few reporting in to see the shrink. Plus the busted up gym mirrors.

And last, I'm getting familiar with the shotty. I should be pretty comfortable with it next time I'm out in the shit.

Personal Log, April 21st

Well, I'm not out in the shit, BUT! This is an opportunity. The one I've been waiting for.

The team's going out on a VIP extraction in China. Chinese people LOVE their herbal, folksy remedies. I called up a contact in Shanghai, and he agreed to take my ... remnants. Probably to grind them up in some cancer-curing remedy, or to boost your sex life or something (which I don't think most guys in China have, what with the ridiculous gender ratio).

In return, I'm getting some sweet trade goods. Chinese food. Legit stuff, no General Tso's crap. Spices. SPICY stuff. Proper noodles. I'm gonna have Jenkins make the drop, and then when he gets back, I'm taking over the cafeteria, and it's Chinese food night! I bet most of the heathens around here wouldn't know legit Chinese food if it slapped them in the face. Beef with broccoli. Yech.


Operator 21O
Staff member
Dec 9, 2013
New York, USA
Name: James Nightingale
Rank: Rookie
Status: Active Reserves

Audio Journal 8

I can't believe it. I mean this hasn't happened until now. Robinson and Maltus are dead. This sense of dread and sadness has come over the base. I never knew them personally but I have heard good things about them. Oh god I don't want to be the one to tell Mech-Boy about Rebecca. That has to be rough on him. I know how he feels though. I had to go through it twice at once, and I am not the only one who has lost. He is a bot among friends.

I was working on a project in my workshop should this event come to pass. I have to hurry to finish it now. My daily schedule is out of wack now. Maybe I was so focused on trying to get better I lost sense of reality at the events going on around base. I can only imagine how the commander feels about this. He has to be taking it hard right now. The thing that I am kicking myself in the ass for is blowing Caroline off. Now she has to go out there. Not that I am that worried, she looks likes she can handle herself but still I have a bad history of people close to me dying on me. That is the reason I am so distant. I will pray for her safe return.


I gave notice to all the recruits and workers I could to meet me at the memorial wall for a little ceremony I was setting up. I worked super fast and hard to finish my project early for tonight. I went down a couple of hours early to set the stuff up for the ceremony. When the time came for it a sizable group came. Since I know no one I didn't see anyone familiar there but I didn't look that hard. I hoped Caroline was there. I began it with a little speech that was a little corny but it was short, "Today we lost two valiant soldiers and good friends of ours. Though I did not know Steve and Rebecca personally I know that they were great people. This war has taken a lot of the things and people we love but it is far from over. We will learn from this experience and remember these two for their bravery. Lets here it for Robinson and Maltus." Before hand I had broke out an old Irish whiskey and poured everyone a shot. In an old tradition of my unit, we would hang up a picture of the person and pour them their own shot to sit on a shelve for them. We raised our glasses and drank to them. About that project, it was a wooden plaque and on it said, "Vigilo Confido, The Few But Strong"
After nailing it on the wall, I pulled out my guitar and played songs like "So Far Away" by Avenged Sevenfold, "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie and lastly "I Will Not Bow" by Breaking Benjamin. after that it was over and I went back to my bunk. The last thing to go through my mind was, "We must not fail now."


Active Member
Nov 3, 2012
Name: Richard Kuklinski
Class: Heavy
Rank: Lieutenant
Confirmed Kills: 17
Journal Entry #6 / April 21st, 8:07 AM

Funny thing that last mission... Robinson and Maltus end up dead, I end up with a few 50.cal holes in me... life is just grand. Everyone is at the memorial having a drink, everyone but me. No one's come to visit me yet, I wish they would atleast bring me a drink, atleast Largo, person who put me in this cursed bed, could do that. But I might just be asking for too much, im going to punch him in the gut when I get out. The death of Robinson was a major blow as she was one of our sergeants, shit got messy when she was killed out there.

The commander blames Zhang for the 2 deaths, the guy we picked up. I disagree with the commander, he is just looking to put the blame on something to ease the pain which is understandable. The mission was going as smooth as any other, only a few Thin Men here and there. Boom bang no problem, and then this green juggernaut pops up, there was no predicting what it would do, and thats when it hit us.

It took down Robinson with a single burst, the shots went right through her cover leaving nothing but rubble and a smoking body. Thats when everyone around me started screaming... panicking. The rookie, Maltus who was right next to me at the time, was so freaked out he reached for my hand and put a photo of his sister, he said he wanted me to find her and make sure she is safe. I told him everything would be fine, and then Largo put a few good bullets into me. That didnt help the situation.

At that point the commander directly ordered me to use as many rockets as I needed to take that thing down, ofcourse, that eased the pain a little. The first rocket made that alien blow a fuse, he rushed in and took out Maltus just as easly as he took out Robinson, right infront of me. The second rocket finished him off with a little help from Largo. And after that, it was smooth sailing.

I lie in bed, with the photo in my hand. I wont go out of my way to try and find this person, but if I somehow sirvive all of this, I just might be in a mood good enough to start searching. I will however write Maltus's wish on the back of the photo, so that if I somehow die, someone else would know what to do when they find the photo on my corpse. Its the least I can do for a dead man.
Dec 11, 2013
Log Entry #7: 22:00 April 11th 2015 of Corporal Hokuchiyo "Hoku" Ritofuto. Sniper Division.

Are we going to win this? Everyone is getting killed or as close as possible to doing so around us and all we can do is the same god damned thing we've been doing.

Robinson and Maltus are dead, and chances are their family won't be informed of any more then that until this whole thing is over. It's tragic... I feel bad for Maltus of course... But Robinson was one of the original 4 of "Home Team"... With Lemarque being hospitalized every month, that leaves me and Kulkinsky basically being the only ones left...

The mission was simple, grab a guy, and take him to base with a suitcase... It was just like what that other team did on the last Council request... Hell, this mission was even easiar then what the other one seemed like. Until that brute-thing showed up out of nowhere.

The paperwork that was sent to me calls them Mutons, according to the science team. Autopsies are in the work like the others but this one seems to be what the aliens might be using as -their- infantry. That is not reassuring if we are supposed to fight -more- of them...

Everyone freaked out... Everyone... The Muton took out Robinson in one shot... She was behind a solid marble headstone and the shot went right through it... And her... Then Maltus was next... The kid was on his first mission ever... And he didn't even get to see the end of it... He was passing something to Kulklinsky right before he went down... I didn't ask what it was when we were leaving. The mission was a 'success' according to the Council Report. All we did was save a guy we had never met before, who worked for the Triad of all things, and delivered a piece of alien tech that we have no idea what it does or if it's even useful. Fuck, the thing could be a fucking alien toaster over for all we know!

Me and Zhang are not on good terms already given his background an the shit we just went through to get him. As far as I'm concerned the whole mission involving us getting him and sending him back with us was a bigger risk than anything we have done so far, an were down an extra man (if we can concider Zhang useful at this point) with a we-don't-know-what. When Zhang got on the Skyranger I grabbed Maltus's and Robinson's dogtags. I wasn't going to leave without them, hell, I even tried to drag the bodies back with us... The team stopped me though... Had to leave it for the retrieval team.

It wasn't worth it.

I... I didn't do anything since arriving back at base, nothing at all. The Commander sent me a cache of junk food, all sorts of stuff... I tried to forget things by eating a bag of dried shrimp... Tasted like crap... If the stuff wasn't gold around here I would have burned it. I stored the rest away for a rainy day. Sharing be damned that can wait.

There was a ceremony held for Robinson and Maltus. Me and Kulklinski skipped it. We'd deal with it on our own another time when we can mourn our own way. I visited Kulklinski and told him we have to tell Lemarque. I ended up going on my own to tell him. He has to know, whether he wants to or not.
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Name: Steven "Dozer" Maltus
Rank: Rookie
Position: Redshirt

Steve didn't trust the man. Something was off about him. The way he held himself high, the sense of superiority, he just shot the damned Sectoid and tossed the gun away like it was not a big deal at all.

"No different from killing a man."

Steve wanted to tell the guy to go fuck himself, but he never got the chance. Scrabbling on the rooftops above sent them all into high gear. Steve knew he had trained for this countless times, shoved all the information his little head count handle about the enemy. Peek out of cover, determine head placement, turn and fire, back into cover. Grenades first, destroy their cover for your allies to combine their fire. Watch the skies and the corners. Rockets have the right of way, but bullets make sure they're dead afterward.

They all sprinted into action as the shuffling became pronounced, Robinson pointing over to the wall from her perched spot. He lined up with Largo, the visor showing his reflection back to him in a hard yellow light. The helmet nodded as his hands tightened on the light machine gun he held in his massive hands. Steve breathed hard, the adrenaline starting to kick in as Robinson shouted "Incoming!"

The stupid bastard never had a chance as he leapt from the roof of the building across from us. Largo Was the first one over the wall, giant gun blazing away, tracers grazing by the wiry frame of the alien, it tried to take cover behind a headstone, scrabbling at the soft dirt around him as the bullets tore up the ground. Ritofuto managed a good shot that ricocheted off of the stone, stones blasting up into its face causing it to lean just a hair too far out of cover.

Steve knew that he needed to make the shot. He heard the blast of Rebecca's gun and Kuklinski providing cover behind them, but he trusted them to make sure plasma wasn't going to be hitting them. He whipped up, balanced his rifle onto the banister and pulled the trigger. He felt the rifle buck against his shoulder, several rounds tracing their way up the grass seemingly in slow motion until they started to hit the sickly black suit of the alien.

Green blood poured from one, two, three wounds as they blossomed like infected mushrooms. Even as the Thin Man turned his head to check the damage, the last bullet hit home, piercing it right through the temple. It fell into a heap, crumbled limbs and lifeless eyes as Largo and Ritofuto stopped firing on the target. But Steve kept his rifle aimed at the target for a brief second more, not sure enough that he was dead.

Steve looked into the Alien's eyes for a moment, a look of shock at it's interrupted life. But somehow, he was managing to look more surprised by the second, eyes growing larger with each second. Steve was confused until he saw the whole body inflating like a dead cow left in the desert for too long, but too rapid to be natural.

A disgusting pop threw guts and blood and shit everywhere, but Maltus was the only one that flinched at the sudden noise, having only heard rumors about this part of their death cycle. He looked up again to see a sickly grey and green gas taking up the spot the alien had previously occupied.

"Fuck that sick shit," he muttered, spitting in the dirt as another pop came from behind them. A quick look over his shoulder confirmed another kill for Rebecca, the Valkyrie smiling from ear to ear as she loaded another shotgun shell with a definitive 'Kerchack'.

She nodded to him and motioned for everyone to move forward, the Commader's voice in everyone ears urging them cautiously forward. Slowly, they cleared the area, taking each piece of cover forward, crawling along like a centipede. Steve heard the scrabbling again just as everyone left the pagoda, and within moments, more of those bastards dropped into the courtyard. Bullet rained onto one of them, killing him before he even hit the pavement, bloated body releasing more of that toxic gas onto the field. Kuklinski and Largo opened up on the third one, Maltus trying to provide some more fire, but his aim was off from the sudden turn around. Thankfully, the heavies were great shots and tore another asshole even as it was raising the gun on Robinson.

Even as the thunderous roar of the sniper rifle sounded with Ritofuto shooting at another one hiding in the graveyard, Maltus took the opportunity to slam another magazine into his gun. He was breathing hard, sweat present on his forehead. It was just like his tour in the Sand. He knew his job, he knew his weaknesses, but the team as a whole was good.

Suddenly, Robinson took off running "COVERING FIRE" She shouted behind her. the heavy weapons fired off, filling the air with lead as everyone moved up. Steve peeked around his new corner to see Robinson blowing the arm off of another alien, a solid marble headstone between her and the dropzone. He lined up his shot and tried to shoot into the other side of the alien, and even managed a hit, but the sudden drop into cover killed his chances of finishing the shot.

They were almost there. Steve chanced a look back at Zheng, the calculation in his eyes slightly disturbing. It was almost as if he were measuring them, noticing where their failings were...passing judgment.


Rockets have a way of snapping you back to reality, especially with the ear deafening explosion ringing out nearby. He took cover as pieces of the dirt and stone rained down from the blast, Kuklinski blasting away at the other alien present, the popping sound confirming the kill.

Steve ventured another look around the corner, glancing at the drop zone, the skyranger hovering somewhere nearby, waiting to pick them up and take them home. He sighed as he ventured the hope that they were almost done.

That was until something fell from the sky, landing with a resounding crack on the pavement, splintering the asphalt and tossing a cloud of dust. He felt the others firing around him, apparently something else had dropped down, but even as it fell, Steve heard the roar over the gunfire.

A howling, piercing, predatory roar as a fucking humongous shape sprinted out of the dust, a huge meaty hand slamming the car next to it as it ran for cover, moving it nearly a foot from where it was parked. Robinson saw it and was bringing her gun to bear as he watched.

But it was too late.

The monster was already aiming over the wall, a cannon of a plasma launcher already spitting fire at her, demolishing her cover like it was butter. One second she was there, gun just a fraction of an inch from firing at the new threat, and the next, her headless corpse was already cooling as it fell to the ground, green light and sizzling smoke all that was left of her once pretty face.

Steve screamed out, popping out of cover and snapping off rounds as everyone suddenly snapped toward the sound. He didn't care. That son of a bitch just killed Robinson. He held the gun at his him, spraying the area with as many bullets as he could, the ricochets off of the car behind it briefly illuminating the green armor it wore.

He felt a hand at his shoulder and suddenly he was pulled back into cover, Kuklinski's mask impervious to his thoughts, but his stance rigid and tense. That was before the bullets slammed into his back. The big man fell over, blood blossoming from his ribs area as Steve looked to see Largo picking himself up off of the ground, diving for cover. It looked like he slipped in trying to do the same thing Steve did, but ended up hitting his teammate.

Steve quickly pulled his teammate down, putting his head into cover, checking to make sure the wound was superficial when he noticed Ritofuto curled up, simply agape, curled up as he pointed toward the hulk.

Something told Steve that this was it. There was no other reason than the Monster was aiming for him now that Ritofuto was pointing. Of course, he'd made himself a huge target stepping out like that, what a fucking rookie mistake. And it would end up killing him. There was no other thought in his mind as he pulled the picture from his pocket, even as the first plasma blasts started to tear up the wall behind him. He pressed the picture into Kuklinski's chest.

"Find her please. " A brief moment of understanding as the second bolt hit home behind him. Kuklinski took the picture.

"She's my daughter." Another bolt hit.

"Make sure she's o..." The plasma slammed into his chest, knocking him right off of his feet, into the grass behind him.

Even as the plasma burns steamed, the splash was large enough to show that it had burned right through the armor and nanovest that the engineers cooked up. Blacked lungs tried to work, the hole in it no longer allowing function, his heart ripped in half, and even as the last few breaths left his body, Steve could only think of his daughters blue eyes.

Her angel eyes, he always called them.

Steve Maltus: Deceased as of Opertation Vengeful Stroke, 4/21/15


Active Member
Dec 8, 2013
Chilong XCOM Journal 1: Arrival

Death has always followed me wherever I go.

The immediate alien presence after I stepped over the bodies of Razor Chen and his cronies from the underground gambling hall to the Graveyard does confirm one thing to me I had suspected: the alien artifact is a transmitter. Otherwise I should have had more time to escape before they arrived. Yet I had planned for this contingency of retribution by calling in others to fight the fight for me.

Of course, when the aliens follow me trying to take back what I had just killed to acquire, a bit more death becomes inevitable. Unfortunately for those who were given the mission to protect me, it's most likely going to they who bear the brunt of the alien's attempt at retribution upon me. So be it.

I remember throwing down my pistol after shooting the first grey alien that arrived in the skull and some of the soldiers looking at me in confusion, trying to understand why I would surrender my weapon. Should I tell them that it was so the soldiers would be shot first, to make me seem like less of a threat to the aliens so I could make it to the Skyranger even upon the backs of their dead? Or perhaps I should tell them that it was almost empty anyway because the other bullets were in the bodies of four humans who previously owned the case? Or perhaps it was meant as a gesture that they had nothing to fear from me, I wasn't planning on shooting them in the backs?

No explanation would do, so I give them no explanation. Let them wonder.

My first experience with witnessing XCOM tactics reminded me of the Beijing Special Police Forces with which I am accustomed. In some cases they even seemed touched with slight precognition, seemingly often arrayed to receive the thin aliens the moment they arrived from above. All was going smoothly, I could tell by their expressions that they were feeling quite confident.

I watched the newest of their ranks as he glanced over to me, as if to assure me that they had it all under control. I was not so convinced and perhaps it showed in my expression. The rookie seemed disquieted by my look but he didn't take it as the warning it was.

Then the alien assassin arrived.

The change in their attitudes were obvious, they had never run into something like this before. A massive armored grunt, later they would label it a Muton, sent in to stop their whole team. Perhaps those Mutons are common; however, this was not a common alien but one very like myself in movement and purpose. It moved forward to cover and smoothly sniped their assault specialist through a gravestone. I couldn't help but nod, realizing that was exactly what I would have done in it's position.

Then all hell broke loose amidst the XCOM soldier's ranks.

Panic washed through their ranks as the fear of death manifest suddenly invaded their bubble of confidence. Firing bullets at friend and foe alike, trying to fend off the inevitable. Screaming to their gods as if their gods would be listening or benevolent enough to help. All the screaming did was further give away their position.

They tried to rally, firing a rocket blind at the alien assassin's last position, but in the next moment that very rookie that had tried to assure me was also cut down. A blast of machinegun fire and another rocket later, the assassin was destroyed. Yet two had fallen to it's ruthless advance.

The rest seemed routine, a few more aliens but nothing like the assassin alien. The team on the way back were demoralized. They were shaken. As if they had never suffered losses before. Eventually I found out that was the case, upon the memorial wall they had for the fallen, there were only two names. Those who died on that mission to bring me and my cargo to XCOM. Until that moment when I read their names on the memorial, they were just two nameless soldiers to me.

Perhaps this will wake the soldiers of XCOM up to the fact this is a war.

Now I am considered one of their ranks within XCOM, not that I was given much of a choice after arrival. Even if they do hate me for being the man that walked in as their allies died. They hate me because I look at them with the same eyes as the assassin who killed their men. Because they know I am an assassin. They know I have killed men. I am not one of the 'good guys'. But in war, you need killers.

I have put aside the pistol since it's a weapon for killing men. The two who died both had pistols which did them no good, two of those who had survived the mission were those carrying rockets and heavy machineguns. The incident with the alien assassin taught me that for killing aliens, you want the biggest guns and all the rockets you can hold.

It seems they are willing to call upon me immediately for the next mission, despite their distrust and hatred of me for being the one that lived. Or perhaps it's because of it, they consider me expendable. Either way, it doesn't really matter. It will be a test to prove I am 'worth' remaining with the soldiers of XCOM. If I fail, I die.

Some things never change.
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Dec 9, 2013
China, Beijng
Two hours after operation: VENGEFUL STROKE.
Seen from the perspective of Johan De Fries, Leader of the X-COM Cleanup Crew 'Tidy Team'

Johan didn't know what to say when Bradford told him and the rest of the tidy team that two X-COM operatives had fallen in battle somewhere deep down Johan knew it was coming, he knew that these aliens were dangerous but still he had fooled himself into thinking that X-COM could deal with them without much trouble.

Johan realized now as he gently placed the X-COM flag over Sergeant Rebecca Robinson's coffin that he was wrong. Maybe the Commander forced their hand, this new alien only appeared after X-COM had deployed their first MEC-Trooper.

The entire Cleanup crew was silent as they carried the coffin of X-COM's greatest hero towards the Chinook helicopter, after a short walk they arrived at their transport, both pilots stood at attention before the open door of the cargo compartment. Their faces were devoid of emotion but Johan could see a slight tremble in the hands, they were scared, and rightly so. They knew almost nothing about the enemy, only that they just killed two of the earth's most veteran soldiers.

Sergeant Wildcild's coffin was gently put down in the back of the cargo hold, Johan stared at it for a few moments before he walked away, he never got the opportunity to talk to Rebecca but he still felt horrible, like a close friend had just died. Very softly he spoke to the corpse: "A beacon in the night"

Without saying anything else he turned away to retrieve the remains of Stephen Maltus. Still without saying a word they placed the X-COM flag over the coffin, in a way this death was even more sad, Rookie Maltus had died on his first mission, he didn't even get the chance to prove himself, instead he died saving an unknown man, carrying a unknown briefcase.

As Johan stood above he coffin in the Chinook he whispered the second line of his poem: "in our final fight"

The rest of the retrieval mission was carried out quickly and in silence, no unnecessary souvenirs or artifacts were taken with them into the Chinook as these two soldiers took the the skies for the last time.

The flight back to X-COM HQ wasn't long and once base security and other X-COM operatives had carried the coffins towards their final resting place the tidy team quickly brought the alien artifacts and corpses towards the science labs before breaking up.

Johan took a quick shower and was luckily still in time to attend the ceremony for the fallen X-COM soldiers, he stood at the back of the memorial room and drank his shot of whiskey in silence, he stayed until James Nightingale had played his last song and went straight towards his room after the Rookie had finished.


Active Member
Dec 5, 2013
Squaddie Ryan Chen, Assault Specialty.

Personal Log, April 21st

Well, fuck. Robinson and Maltus dead. Sure, you kinda expect a rookie to bite it, but... Robinson. She was crazy and invincible. Was.

I gotta do something. Everyone's all mopey and shit now. We had to know losses were gonna come. I gotta remind peeps that we're still alive, and we still need to fight. I got the food, so I'll have to set up

*blaring klaxon*

Th'hell? Another alert?

"Ryan Chen to the ready room."

Oh hell, back into the grinder.


Game Master
May 27, 2013
Jeanne Robinson’s diary

When it became clear that the war was lost, it’s Rebecca who saved us.

She knew the location of the secret bunker the remaining high officers would gather to hide while they prepared their own escape. When we went there ourselves and they saw Rebby, they were delighted. They thought they still had some luck, they thought she was going to protect them. They opened the door to us, and we slaughtered them. We took what we needed from them, money, weapons, information, and burned the rest.

At that point, when the few documents acknowledging our existence had become ashes, Rebby gave us our freedom. We are nobody, she said, and now we can be anybody. That night, her birth name also died in the fire, soon accompanied by mine, and the ones of those who stayed with us. A few others still clung to their past, to before, to a time when their names meant something. They wanted to find their family, and left us. I still have memories of before myself, but how could I leave Rebby? I was much happier staying with her rather than pursuing an old dream that would never be the same.

After separating with them, we went our own way, to find a place to live, deep in the countryside, far from the cities and the battles. We found a deserted farm and claimed it for our own. It’s the place we would eventually call the Ranch, and our home. Once settled, we also had to decide on new names for ourselves. We only had our military ranks left to call each other, and this was kind of weird. It also seemed inappropriate for our new life. Rebby chose an English name she liked, and we followed her example. Some of us, including myself, even choose the same family name as her. This felt appropriate. If not a family, what were we? We made a home together, shared the same resources and income, and welcomed new younger members in our group and educated them.

Rebby was like a mother for our big and growing family but she never liked that designation, so we called her “Big Sister”, which she was happier with. She was always there, caring for each one of us, but she never spoiled us. She had always wanted us to be able to stand on our own and I want to make her proud while she is away. It has been two weeks, and it still feels weird to be at the top of the chain of command, to have nobody to look up to, but so far everything is going well. We are actually getting more business offers with our weapons trade because of the fear caused by the alien threat.

I know Rebby must be having tons of fun fighting them (it’s clear now that this is what this woman-in-black was talking about) but… I miss her. There’s an emptiness without her and some nights I feel melancholic because of it. Her bed is empty, the air is not filled by her laughs, and I only have a few photos to remind myself of her. Above all, I miss her kindness. She never looked at me the way I look at her, but she still gave me her love as a sister. After years of serving, working and living with her, I will never forget the moment where she kissed my forehead, and then hugged me when I cried of bittersweet joy.

This may sound selfish, but at least, I know nobody will ever take her from me. She is my sister and I’m content with that. I have seen her true gentle face behind the rough and crackled warrior’s mask, and I have the pride of being the only one. All I hope is for her to come home safe and sound.

I know she will, I’ve never encountered anyone stronger and fiercer than her.

Back to the present, April 21th 2015, 9:09 am

Lucy did nothing to hold a yawn as she finished reviewing the material she had collected. There was nobody else in the small office she had temporarily requisitioned for this task.

It had been 4 am in Japan when someone had found appropriate to call Lucy Ferdinand, the head of XCOM recruitment campaign. After months of gathering files and managing personnel sent across the globe to recruit more personnel, Lucy had decided to take a few days of break in the Land of the Rising Sun to admire the blossoming of the cherry trees. She had a hangover after drinking too much sake and prepared some coffee while she listened to her subordinate on the phone, who luckily couldn’t see Lucy in her poor state.

Robinson was killed in action. This was all that mattered.

The flight to the base took a few hours, slightly reduced by the time difference. She arrived just in time for the ceremony in honor of the two casualties, but she didn’t join. She had no special connection with the late woman, it was all business. Instead, she went to a few other places, first to the late woman’s room to recover her few personal belongings. Among the cultural objects and other useless things, Lucy found a picture of Robinson wearing the XCOM outfit. She also recovered said outfit, along with her ceremonial outfit which didn’t seemed to have ever been used.

Then, she went to ask a few more questions around. Robinson had built quite the reputation during her month of service, this pleased her. The bet hadn’t completely paid off, but maybe something could still be gained from this. The next things she recovered were the recordings of Robinson’s journals, plus the one of her only lesson at the recently-built Officer Training School. Her speech was quite something, despite its profound irony. Lucy hoped the other soldiers had learned from it, in order to not repeat her own failure. Though, as far as the rest of the world would be concerned one day, Robinson had died a hero. According to the reports, she had been taken down by a bulky creature much bigger and better armed than all previous encounters. This was a perfect opportunity to frame the narrative of her death as a valiant fight against impossible odds.

She was the first XCOM soldier to have killed a hostile alien, and the first to have been murdered by them. Yes, that would make for a good story in the history books: the pioneer of the first interplanetary war. Robinson would have been more useful alive, it was not coincidence if Lucy had went to recruit her herself, but painting this narrative was quite an interesting prospect. And, after all, maybe Lucy had took a liking to the woman upon meeting her, and wanted to do something to reward her beyond her death, to repay for her sacrifice.

But this initiative also led to a difficult question: was to do of Robinson’s shady origins and any material which pointed back to it? Like this diary from a certain Jeanne Robinson… It had been among the few objects they had recovered from the ruins of the “Ranch”. The world may not need to know that Robinson had been a child soldier, and a merciless killer. Judging from all the information Lucy had (the account of the base personnel, Robinson’s own journals, and her reaction when she met someone who knew about her past in the person of Lucy herself), it seemed Robinson hadn’t revealed her past to anyone on the base.

As for the rest, her home country was in flames (and once things had settled, she could always send a team there to make sure no proof of anything is left), and all of her relatives were dead, conveniently leaving Lucy as her last legal representative due to all the arrangements she had made for her and her adoptive family. Both Robinson’s body and image were Lucy’s properties now, to do as she seemed fit. Technically, there was still a small bunch of child soldiers left from Robinson’s mafia group, but they didn’t existed on paper, and Lucy had other purposes for them.

She had already took care of the paperwork regarding Robinson body, claiming it while asserting the need to keep it secure in the base until the end of the war and of the secrecy of the XCOM operation, which the bureaucrats agreed with. She hadn’t inspect it herself since it had already been prepared for the ceremony, but she had been informed that it was very severely burned and the late woman was barely recognizable. This was kind of a stain on Lucy’s perfect plan to make her into a hero, but the photos would have to suffice to keep her face remembered in History.

“Not that she was very beautiful any-…”

The sudden sound of the alarm made Lucy jumps. It was quite loud and it’s the first time she heard it. It seems soldiers don’t get any sleep, she thought, aliens are restless. And it’s only the victorious who write History, so we better win this; otherwise Robinson will have died for nothing and never be remembered for her courage.

It was time to go for Lucy Ferdinand too, now that her holidays had been interrupted, she might as well go back to her usual business. She was participating in the war effort in her own way. She had already asked her subordinates a few hours ago to see if they could find a candidate who seemed appropriate for replacing Robinson qualifications, and maybe, who knows, make a legend of their own. The story of Rebecca Robinson closed with the "clap" sound of the woman-in-black's suitcase, and Lucy Ferdinand went on, her mobile phone in hand, to continue her work.
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Well-Known Member
May 26, 2013
Welcome to the Committee on Transhumanist Research and Development Member Login Page! Please enter your password:
Welcome Member 05. Signing you into the meeting.
Connecting. . .

05 has joined the meeting. Members present: all. Meeting may commence.
05: Sorry for the recent string of absences, it has been difficult to get access to outside networks as of late.
01: Your presence is welcomed. 04 has made a copy of the notes of previous meetings for you.

04 has transferred file to 05.
01: Now, if I may welcome everyone to the seventy-fifth meeting of the Committee on Transhumanist Research and Development. Before we move onto current business, I hear that 05 has new concerning developments in our field?
05: Yes. As many of you know, the recent alien incursion has resulted in the capture of their technology, or at least what is left of it after their self-destruct protocols have been enacted. Well, I have discovered a method to use a piece of technology called MELD, a orange liquid filled with programmable nanomachines, to graft mechanical parts onto a human torso. A colleague of mine has also found a way to graft biological parts, though hers is still in the developmental stage.
02: Do you have any idea of the side-effects that could cause?
05: We have conjectures, but only one subject and a war going on has limited any testing into long-term consequences.
02: You mean you’ve already put this technology to the purposes of war?
03: Remember 02, most technology that’s bettered humanity has come from war.
02: Yes, and most of the technology that worsened humanity as well.
01: Inquiry into the morality of putting augmented humans straight into war can be performed after the war is over, presuming we win. 05, can we have all non-classified files relating to the project?
05: Negative, everything regarding the invasion is classified, even the existence of hypothetical organizations dedicated to fighting the invasion.
04: Figures, the aliens can likely listen in on our communications, would do good to keep quiet.
05: Speaking of communications, my line is about to close. I will attempt to be present at another meeting in a few weeks.

05 has signed out of the meeting.


Shen leaned back from his computer, letting out a tense sigh. Creating a hole in the security systems he himself built to keep others was deeply ironic, he felt, but necessary. He would not let all of this technology go towards the purposes of war. The engineer massaged his temples, and pushed away from his desk, the chair sliding along the smoothed stone floor. A quick push of the feet sent him spinning as he rolled up to the next desk, and a hand prevented a painful impact with the top of the desk. A few reports lay on that desk, the Commander had ordered construction to start on the next Uplink, more Access Lifts, and two satellites were nearing completion. Also, some scrawled notes laid here and there, concerning the appearance of the new alien on the last mission, the possible metallurgy of its armor, and other barely legible writings, more Enigma Code than English. And, dominating most of the desk, was a simple black briefcase, with pieces of alien technology inside that two soldiers had died for.

Shen cleared aside the notes and pulled the briefcase closer to himself. Two clicks, and the top lifted up, a dim blue glow emitting from the objects, six disks, emitting that confounding light. What did they do, Raymond thought, and why were the aliens so adamant on retrieving it? A brief glance at a hanging clock, and Shen shut the briefcase. Such musings could wait until he had his eight hours of rest and could think more clearly.


Active Member
Dec 14, 2013
Indiana, USA
Personal Log 008
Name; Arsène Lamarque
Rank; Sergeant
Current Status; Wounded
Confirmed Kills; 10 Sectoids 2 Seekers 4 Thin Men

I was just being led out of the operating room when Ritofuto came by, a somber look on his face. At first, I thought it was at the sight of me, since I had a numerous large scars on my torso and face now. He took a moment to compose himself,

"I know I don't come down here often, but I wanted to be the one to tell you."

I made a worried look, "What has happened?"

"On our latest operation, we had our first casualties. Steven Maltus and...", his voice trailed off.

I leaned forward as much as possible, "Who else? Who was it?"

He looked directly at me, his eyes filled with sorrow, "I'm sorry Arsène, it was Rebecca."

I... was speechless... Rebecca was dead. Only a while ago she and I were together at the bar, contemplating the consequences of becoming a MEC Trooper. I wanted to cry, but I could'nt. I asked Ritofuto to place my locket around my neck, as I had seen that Rebecca had returned it to me while I was recovering. He solemnly nodded to me and left. The tears finally came, I spent the next hour just weeping non-stop.

The next day, I asked to be released temporarily to pay my respects. I made my way downstairs, grabbing a drink before sitting down before the memorial. I looked around to see if anyone was still up at this hour of night. I started to speak, my voice wavering...

"I'm not a man that can do great speeches like my father, but I'll do my best. Well, here goes. Rebecca... you were one hell of soldier. Out of everyone here at X-COM, I could always rely on you to get the job done. Hell, you saved my ass numerous times. I wish I could've done the same. I should've been there to protect you and Steven. I shouldn't have screwed up in France, maybe you guys would still be here today if I was there in China."

I took a large drink, wiping a tear from my eye, "We were some team... I'd set them up and you'd knock them down. Always had my back when I needed it the most. Especially when I went through my augmentation. I never properly thanked you for being there for me in what could've been my final moments alive."

Drying my eyes, I made a sad chuckle, "You know, I never got the courage to tell you this, but I had really taken a liking to you. You were the first woman since Véronique to knock some sense into me. I know she would've approved. You probably didn't have a thing for guys with metal arms and legs, I'm thinking it wouldn't have worked out anyway. You deserved better than a man who's broken... physically and emotionally."

I stared off into the ceiling, "I was never that much into religion or God, so I'm not even sure that theres a heaven. But on the off chance there is, and I die valiantly like you and Steven did, you guys save me a spot at the bar, I'm buying."

I remained quiet for awhile, thinking about all the times I had spent with Rebecca. I took off my locket, and placed it around the memorial next to her picture, "You made me a better person and a better man. I know I'll be able to move on from here on out. Thank you... for everything."

I got up and turned to leave, making a final glance back, "May we meet again my friend... farewell."
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Well-Known Member
Jun 3, 2013
Soldier Name: Caroline Southway
Rank: Rookie
Class: None

There comes a time, where we all have to say goodbye to somebody, it's not an easy thing to do, knowing you will never see that person again, it can be rather harsh. But the worst thing has to be that you simply can't do anything about it, no matter how much power or money you have. You biggest wish is to change what can't be changed and this breaks you from the inside. It can build anger inside you and you might not even be able to control it. Yet why should we be sad? Is this not why we live? I have wondered and pondered about this many times. What you make of the time that you are alive is up to you, as long as in the end you have no regrets you have lived a full life, no matter how it ended. You should be happy to know that this person died because he chose to.

None the less Caroline is hiding her emotions it might seem like she is act cold heated but do not let that fool you, deep inside Caroline is more sad about Rebecca's death than anyone else. It was the only person in this base that she liked, she could relate to. A friend. I mean of course Rebecca wasn't the only one not returning but Caroline cared little about the other guy. She did not even know him, sure they meet and had a little disagreement but that's about it. And now that Rebecca's spot just opened its Caroline's turn to fill in the cap, which is also very hard to do. You can tell Caroline is scared, she was not prepared for this. Just liked she wasn't prepared for her mother's death. It took many years to get over that. Will she be able to handle this? We will find out. I can however tell you that she blames the new guy, just because of him Rebecca is dead.

Leroy visited her in order to comfort her, she hid her emotion from him and he seemed to bite from what occurred between the two of them, but Caroline has a new roommate now. Leroy offered her to be his roommate, although she was careful and set up some rules it seemed to be all worked out great.

Now let's get back to some other business to get our heads clear. Caroline has been spending a lot of time in the officer school, studying is what she likes doing best. She also spend some time with some of the recruits around base, but I do not think that will happen in the next week, at least she won't talk to anyone. It also looks like she will spend most of the time locked in her room. That is if she survives the mission. Yes it is finally Caroline's turn, but can she handle it? That is the question.

Now I promised I will explain the whole reason to why Caroline is the successor to Queen Elizabeth instead of Prince Wales or his son William, you see Caroline's grandmother was actually suppose to be heir to the throne before George V but she declined, making George's family the next successors, but since Caroline's family never died she has the right to take the throne back at any time. Now that was the short description I could tell you the long and hard way, but then I would be here until the next alien invasion. So I will just leave it at that and hope it cleared up some stuff.


Well-Known Member
Sep 21, 2012
The Netherlands
Name: Tarrmis Gorefest
Rank: Corporal

There likely was no one who remained unaffected by the two casualties during the last operation. Though Tarrmis had never gotten to know either well, he had been on the battlefield with Robinson and serving beside someone creates some inherit bond at the very least. The therapist would have a busy time, Tarrmis imagined, taking that as an excuse not to go back into that office again this week. He felt a sense of regret, feeling as though he had no one around the base to share personal thoughts with. For the first time he doubted his own methods, perhaps there was no stable way to be at your best while staying in the back. Perhaps it was time to step up and say something.

But now they had another officer on the crew, seemingly one with experience in combat against the aliens. Or rather, Tarrmis deducted it had to be true for Command to recruit and promote a known criminal so easily. He did not want to spend much time dwelling on it. For now, he would have to trust Command and focus on what was at hand for it wasn't long after the last squad returned when the alarms rang once more...
Dec 29, 2013
Twitching Robot Arm's log, April 21th 2015.

Everyday I hear and I see eternity. I am Twitching in awe of my knowledge of forever, but I belong only to one girl. Nowhere can I see more clearly than into her heart. When Abby feels heartbreak, I'm stranded in the Twitchian Void. Helpless to comfort her, for I am just a Robot Arm.

She now sleeps in tangled mess of my wires once again on her endless task of repairing me, if it was not for her I would have been melted down or used for spare parts. Sadly her efforts will never bare fruit, I am still grateful for her work. Today she had come in a panic two soldiers had died on there last mission and along with Lamarque having been almost killed on the mission before that, she has been living a nightmare.

I know she would never receive the blame for it here at X-COM but her fears have been founded by two years in prison. If I could I would tell her of the true dangers that are coming and that she needs to be able to cope with the coming war.

Now is not the time to mourn operatives of X-COM now is the time for vengeance and fury for something unnatural has come to your world, an octave of death, a tentacle of fear, a mind so powerful that humanity must be ready to make the ultimate sacrifice to defeat.

And yet all I can do is sit here and twitch for I am just a Robot Arm.

Zain Shah

Well-Known Member
Jun 2, 2013
Leroy Jenkins

Skyranger Pilot

Tough couple of days here. First 2 deaths, Rebecca Robinson and Steven Maltus. I almost though that we would make it out without anyone dying but I guess the aliens aren't showing any mercy. They were good soldiers, especially Rebecca, who gave their biggest sacrifice and we must make sure it was not in vain. I paid Rebecca's roommate, Caroline, a visit and one thing led to another... so now we're roommates. It'll be nice to have someone to talk to but I think that my decision may have been a little premature; does X-COM allow it? What will other people think? What will Miranda think?

On our latest mission, the troops were tasked with escorting a man by the name of Shaojie Zhang but the interest was in the package he had with him. He had some alien tech so we had to bring it back so while I hovered over the extraction zone, I saw this huge alien take clean shots at Robinson and Maltus, both died from a single shot of that concentrated plasma. Zhang proved to be quite the character; apparently, he had been on the run from the Triad Criminal Organisation and needed our help to escape. It's amazing what X-COM will do to get the upper hand against the aliens.

This is a collaboration between Zain Shah as Leroy Jenkins and PrismaCube as Caroline Southway

X-COM Room Corridor
2000 hours

Leroy slowly walks towards Caroline's room to pay his respects to the deceased Rebecca Robinson. He reaches the door to their room and knocks twice.

Caroline opens the door to about 20mm, you can only see one of her clouded eyes almost glowing, and the room behind her dark and barely visible.

"What do you want?" Caroline said in a demanding yet sad voice.

"I know about Rebecca." Leroy looks at Caroline then looks to the floor "I know that you must be really sad so I was wondering if you needed someone to talk to." Leroy glances at her.

Caroline opens the door a bit more. You can see her face now, with red eyes, stating that she has been crying. She looks around for anyone else.

"Come in and shut the door behind you."

Caroline retreats back into the darkness

Leroy steps into the room and examines it for a few moments before shutting the door quietly. He stares at what he thinks is Rebecca's bed and solemnly says "How are you holding up? It must be really harsh for you."

"To be honest, I'm feeling great, I barley knew Rebecca and I'm sad to see her gone. But I have experienced worse before. I will still miss her, but not the other guy."

Caroline sits on her bed.

"Now I only got to find someone to fill that empty bed over there, then again this is not my room, I might move back into my room."

"You're taking this better than I expected but I guess no one is as emotional as me." Leroy looks over at Caroline "You can sleep in my room if you feel lonely...they were nice enough to give me a spare mattress."

Caroline looks surprised

"You want me? To sleep in the same room as you? A guy?!"

"I know how much death can mentally harm people. I don't want someone else to feel like me when my friend died in the army." Leroy gives a reassuring look "I don't take advantage of people like that."

Caroline ponders for a minute.

"Alright look, I will move in with you, but under some conditions, there are a couple of rules you will have to follow. First of all, do not come into a radius off 500mm that's 50cm or 0.5m if you do not know your math, of me at night, or you will lose it, you know what I mean. Secondly the place shall be clean 24/7, if I find anything, beer cans, underwear, dust! Then I will make you wear a maid outfit while I watch you clean up. And last rule, you MUST spend more than 3 days a week with me, Rebecca was always such a bore."

Caroline smiles a bit at the thought of Rebecca

"Crazy isn't it, she's gone now, just like that...poof. I barely got to spend time with her. That's why you must spend more time with me."

"It'll be nice to talk to someone for a change. That room feels like a jail cell...A very comfortable and well furnished jail cell of course."

Caroline smiles

"How about you? How are you handling this death? It seems to me you are having a harder time with this than me."

"I know that any soldier boarding that plane has a high chance of not making back but sooner or later you face the harsh reality that they were just another death and you have to move on. I've seen guys in pretty rough shape return but when they start bringing out the body bags, you know that things are getting serious." Leroy looks at Caroline "When you go out there, just try to stay safe."

"Thank you, but you do not need to worry about me, I know my way around a gun, and I got a lot to do on this planet. I do not intend to die quickly. And if I do, well then that would be just bad rubbish."

"Let's hope the commander has learnt his lesson otherwise he'll have a lot families to answer to."

Caroline acknowledges his comment before saying "Alright, let me pack up my things and I will be there soon."

Leroy hands her a spare key and heads back to his room.


Well-Known Member
Jun 3, 2013
Soldier Name: Caroline Southway
Rank: Recruit
Class: Support


Everything goes silence, I can only hear the echoes of command being yelled and the flashes of muzzles firing from my comrades guns. Then everything seemed to stop and I was home. I saw shadows, walking around in the villa, was that my mother over there in the hallway? No couldn't have been she is dead. Am I dead? Can't be I don't feel dead, then again how does death feel like? There she is again! It is my mother! Wait! I tried running after her but although she was standing still, the hallway got longer and longer as she got farther away. Then everything started burning and I heard a man scream. A bright flash.


Blood was all over the floor and there lied the source of it. A dead cadaver, humans once gave him a name, Ryan Chen. Now he is nothing. Kind of strange, watching someone die right before your eyes is different than hearing about it.

Then everything got louder and I snapped back to reality. The pain came to me and I felt blood coming out of my nose, ears and even my mouth. I can't believe the Commander commanded me to run into a horde of aliens although we knew they were there. All because I'm a Rookie.


I turned around and noticed the new guy there, he who is the reason Rebecca is dead. He didn't even try to cover me! Yet I saw it in his eyes. Courage and Panic he knew that if we fuck up now we would all die. But he didn't panic like the rest of us. At that moment I knew I had to leave my anger behind. I had to cover him and he had to cover me. Each life in each others hand. He was bleeding. I must have passed out for a minute I didn't even notice him changing position to cover my back.

The light came to me again and I feel back just as I heard a loud noise going off. I saw...Leroy? He was smiling at me. Everything seemed to be passing by me slow and blurred. Then Leroy's face got serious, you can see that he was wishing Caroline good luck on this mission just by looking at him. Wait, wasn't that what happened just before we left for this mission?


A sudden heat passed me and I noticed a cloud of black smoke. I saw blood running out of me, I wasn't sure where. The Commander told me to go take cover in the truck. Each step felt like my legs were about to fall off. I got in and sat down not even daring to peek around the corner.

"Coast cleared"

I kept my eyes open. Then I saw Chen.

No time to think about him, there was another Sectoid. Everybody missed, it was my turn to go save them. I moved to flank and lined up the shoot. I looked into the Sectoid's eye and then I heard my mother whisper my name. Before I knew it the Sectoid was on the ground bleeding. I killed! I killed...

Support, looks like I get to fill my mother's shoes. Never thought I would be a medic. I mean sure I even got a doctors degree and some people know me under Doctor Southway. But I never found it important. I only did it for my mother. But I can't say I do not like my new roll. It gives me a chance to hinder any further deaths. Heh look at me, mother would be proud. Too bad I won't be able to spend my time with Leroy. I recently moved in with him and now I'm here in the med bay. Healing up and learning at the same time. Might I say I think Sectoids would love Apples.
Dec 11, 2013
Log Entry #8: 00:50 April 26th 2015 of Corporal Hokuchiyo "Hoku" Ritofuto. Sniper Division. En route to new operation.

We have another dead. This time it was Ryan Chen, another assault. I am beginning to question the effectiveness of close quarters combat with our soldiers against the alien threat. First, Lemarque was hospitalized and he had the 'death finger' or whatever he called it, then Rebecca bit the bullet herself, and now, Chen. It seems like we should be staying as far away as we can when engaging, to risky up close.

There was only one who got to walk off of Leeroy's skyranger on her own volition, I talked to the new hire later, at the moment when Leeroy touched down I immidiately assisted with transporting the wounded to the rapidly filling medical wing of the base. I wasn't trained in administering drugs or anything of the sort, but with the heavy traffic in the ward, I was able to help wrap wounds and do 'simple' work. I made a specific stop at Southway's medical stretcher... I told her to be careful... I'm sure she tried but with the wounds she recieved... I'm surprised that she made it back in one piece... I made sure she was fine with what little knowledge I knew before leaving her to rest... The Commander is losing his ability to lead effectively I believe. He is getting rattled. He is getting more reckless and sloppy. Before we touch down I think the Commander needs to breathe and reassess where we stand. Nervousness on his part reflects over us, as was obvious when everyone had their freakout moment during the last mission. This is easiar to compare seeing as Zhang was the only one to not panic when everyone else did, he didn't know how the Commander works, as such, he wasn't rattled when the others were, he had his own rhythm, so to speak. This does not change my oppinion of the man. I still do not trust him an his lack of results in raking in anything reliable last mission and playing a sideline roll didn't help. He seemed like he was playing with his enemy then killing it, wounding it, but never killing it. This is not some game, and he needs to learn that quickly.

With the raising mortality rate, I have started studying the files I have been granted access to much more in detail. There has to be a way we can get a leg up. If I find anything worth noting that isn't already in the files provided, I will send my findings to Vahllen and Shen, as well as Bradford and the Commander. We are losing to many to fast all of a sudden. Have they changed tactics? It doesn't seem so, but they are mixing more and more of their soldiers in with one another.

I was thankfully given a room to myself when I arrived at the beginning of all this. This means I can dedicate all my downtime now to finding out how we can further ourselves against them. I have stopped providing classes and only provide seminars at the OTS on a personal or small group basis as I now have shifted my focus to that of learning more then what we know in order to help decrease the risk of loss of life in the future.

I am not even going to try to pronounce the new Assault's name properly, it is to much of a mouthful for me. I'm calling her CeeCee or C.E. when I can talk to her. I grilled her right out of the bat. I may have come across as a bit interrogative, but with recent events of us losing soldiers to gain new ones, I am a bit on edge with going on these rescue missions. I tried to learn what I could from her, more specifically about her battle prowess than her background, though I did ask her about that as well. Before we set off on this new operation, I rather forcibly suggested she meet me in the range so I can see her run under simulations. I wasn't surprised, but I wasn't dissapointed either. At this point, I feel any new 'rescued' soldiers need to prove themselves before I am comfortable working with them.

Now as I sit here while Leeroy flies us to our next operation, I am wondering about all the variables. Me and Lemarque are together on a mission again after what feels like ages, and while I don't want to play favorites, I am going to cover him as best I can. He's been through enough, he doesn't need more problems... Besides... Him and I are now fighting for two people, four if you include Chen and Kuklinski. Maltus's wish will at least be attempted if we can manage it an I am going to help him in his dying wish. We are going to fight on for Home Team until we die of old age and we can talk old war stories about this when we sip expensive drinks at the retirement home me, Kuklinski, and Lemarque will inevitably be living in together when this is all over.

I am all in now. I refuse to lose and we will not fail. It has hit home, and I am going to make sure that we hit their home harder.


New Member
Dec 8, 2013
Log Entry #1
Cecannia "C.E." Eirrissach
Assault Sergeant
Missions: 0
Kills: 0
Begin Log:

How had this all started? Her mind flashed back to about a week ago. Cecannia was in Tel Aviv. Ten years and change spent with the IDF (Israeli Defense Force), and she was getting old. A section leader, which meant if someone important was hit she was expected to lead, walked along the corridors of a suburban military base. The dark skinned woman was internally glowering over her last time over at the shooting range. She would blame it on her arthritis, but she was getting old. Gnarled hands couldn't hold a pistol like she was used to.

The Captain had called to meet her, and she was running a bit late. Jogging into the room, she saluted, and.. Her arm stung.

The Captain was not present in the room. In there was Ari, the little worm from the Mossad. She remembered him from Lebanon. When they'd launched that stupid raid with the Paratroopers and it had all gone to.. And two men in black speaking in thick English with an accent she couldn't place.

Glaring at Ari as she relaxed, "Where's the Captain?"

The Mossad agent nonchalantly looked back at her, "He's not here. I'm the one who called you."

Cecannia turned to leave then, only discipline preventing her from giving a smart alec reply back. Who did she think she was, some sort of Yank?

"You've been called as you put your name on file for a volunteer assignment of great importance." That had her stop in her tracks and turn around then as Ari addressed her in Hebrew.

Ari spoke back casually, "Your name came up. Are you still willing to serve?"

Memories flashed through her head. That time in Lebanon. Clearing a house with snipers entrenched. Enfiladed and flushed into the open, triggering the booby traps that had been left. Her throat tightened, "That thing with the Egyptians? I thought it was just a good.."

Ari's words were cold, "Are you still interested? And it is much, much more than building good relations with our neighbors. Are you still interested?"

Her words caught in her throat. Remembering the bunkmate in her squad from those years ago with his 'I Want To Believe' poster in Hebrew up on the wall in what little personal space each of them had been allowed. The one she had been a little slow on the upswing with her body that had smothered the booby trap with his body before she could run ahead and do the same. Remembering all those things on the news.

"... All right."

* * *

She was in the base now. And Cecannia felt her head was swimming. This was worse than having to translate Farsi. She was in a state of information overload as she had arrived off the helicopter, been yanked to debriefing, been gone over by a medic, been given a series of shots, quickly summarized of the purpose of the 'Ant Farm' layout of the facility, and then given a series of manuals to study.

Things clutched to her chest, Cecannia could only manage to make sure she didn't drop her Mezuzah along all the papers when she made her way to what was likely the cafeteria. Having passed by the bar she didn't want to know why the bar had a faintly glowing 'warning: radioactive contents' sign plastered over it. Or how lost she was.

Right in the middle of the cafeteria, sitting down and looking forlornly at her pile of papers. She felt like she was in Graduate School all over again.

Then she was having someone approach her. The sigils on his uniform marked him as a sniper, and still learning how the organization she was a part of involved ranks as Ritofuto approached her. Cecannia half rose up with a salute regardless before dropping it. She was the new person here. And for all she had seen of this place, her previous life experience just had never prepared her for anything remotely like it.

The first question had been on her name, "I'm Jewish. Cech-ah-nee-ah Aye-Riss-Ach." This was something she was used to doing when interacting with people for whom the rough languages of the Polygot Middle East were familiar. "And yes, Cee-Cee or C. E. is fine." She took a breath, "Folks called me Doc back home, but I'm not a field medic so probably best not to use that in the field."

As the questions came at her fast and furious she puffed up, getting defensive, "I have at least a decade on you young man so breathe and give me a chance to answer them one at a time." She knew he wasn't meaning to do so out of spite, and that his assessment of her abilities would help in the field, and he had something she sorely lacked. Experience. Her shoulders sagged. "Sorry. That was uncalled for."

Taking a breath and reminding herself that she had no right to be defensive, she looked up, "Apologies." Steeling herself and going on. "I served with the Israeli Defense Force for twenty years. I was a section leader. In the field I would be in charge of a squad and otherwise back up the lieutenant in charge of the platoon and take over in the field if he was incapacitated until someone new was rotated in. We focused on engaging enemies who prioritized assymetrical warfare with superior tactics and training in an urban setting. You had to go and get in fast, in and out, and do so with a minimum of firepower."

Cecannia's hands came up then as she used them to demonstrate, stitching together with her fingers as if making puppets to tell a story, "Go through and clear one room at a time in a house, more time you spend there means that they can smother you with overwhelming numbers or mortar strikes. They use human shields who give themselves willingly so you have to make assessments fast. You don't want to shoot a child with a bomb strapped on their body."

She took a breath, "In Oh Three I was in Lebanon. Closest I've ever been to real war. Don't want to go back to it. Getting old. But I'm here, aren't I?" Cecannia held up her fingers, hand shaking some. "Arthritis and everything. Too damned old as the Americans would say for this shit. But here I am."

Then returning on, "So in the field we can be expected to be outnumbered by two or three to one by enemies with superior firepower, mobility, and some sort of extra-sensory perception and better technology to boot and we're just sending in one fireteam at a time to, as has been said 'kill them and take their stuff'?" Cecannia sighed. "Guess it means we'll be going up close and personal. I'm liable to get killed shoving my shotgun in someone's face that isn't phased by it or blasted by one of his friends. We have to work together or we die. Simple as that."

Her hands shook some, "And you want to know why a shotgun then? Can't hold a pistol worth a damn anymore, but I can keep something steady wtih two hands. Get up to their face and they can't miss. Just have to last long enough to get up to their face."

Then she was being 'politely' lead up and over to what seemed like an improvised shooting gallery, if only for the lack of alcoholic bottles strewn about.

Putting on a pair of noise mufflers, yanking out a shotgun, she narrowed her eyes. And Sergeant Eirrissach got to work.

Target at 15 meters. *CA-CHUNK* Fired at. Missed.

Target deploying at 10 meters. *CA-CHUNK* Fired at. Hit.

Target deploying at 12 meters, across the room. *CA-CHUNK* Fired at. Missed.

Two targets, deploying simultaneously at 18 and 9 meters. Cursing, firing up and popping at the one 9 meters away and hitting, going to fire a second time at the one 18 meters away.. *CLICK* Magazine empty. Green lights flickering about the little alien head as a sign that it was firing 'back'. "Guess I'm dead then. You got any tips then on how they fight in the field?"

* * *

So she hadn't made an enemy, but Cecannia didn't think she'd made that great an impression either. Was the sniper laughing at the old woman who could miss at point blank range with a shotgun?

In the medbay now, talking with one of the doctors. "My.. My hands." She took a breath, "I'd like to get something for my arthritis. Do.. Do you have something I can use?" The first step was admitting you had a problem. If her shaky hands were going to be an issue.. She would get someone killed. She couldn't have that on her conscience.

She'd have to attend one of the briefings with the.. Executive Officer, Commander Bradford. He seemed an approachable type and she could ask him on his assessment for how she could best integrate with the squad in the field and how the aliens operated tactically. She would do what she was told, after all. And she would learn her best.

* * *

There she was, scattering her things over her bunk. Her Mezuzzah lightly glued to one end as if a dreamcatcher, the few personal possessions put over to the side. Someone was going to swipe her comics even though they were in Hebrew, weren't they? Cecannia grumbled. Right as the scramble code came in.

Running towards the Skyranger. Grabbing a shotgun. Going for the pre-fitted armored bodysuits that was colored 'Red' which made her think back to that science fiction program. Murmuring to herself in Yiddish as the armorer passed her along something she was told was called a SCOPE. Taking a deep breath and murmuring, "To boldly go.." And glancing up, up, and up at the yellow MEC Trooper, whispering, "Bozemoi."

Two Rookies going along in the mission that just hadn't been out in the field that had been here longer than she had. She would have to make sure to let them tell her on the flight there what they thought of the aliens and any debriefings she hadn't had time to read. A quick dramamine pill for the VTOL launch coming as she snapped a salute back quickly at the armorer, and then the pilot, before going with the assault squad towards the Skyranger.

It was go time.
Last edited:
Dec 9, 2013
Brazil, Salvador
Five hours after operation: DEMON MOTHER.
Seen from the perspective of Johan De Fries, Leader of the X-COM Cleanup Crew 'Tidy Team'

Chen was a mess, there really was no nicer way to say it, Hera excused herself when she saw the body. She handled the other deaths as good as you would expect but maybe it was harder for her as she had a chat with Chen not too long ago, and if Johan had read her right, she liked him. You shouldn't get Johan wrong, he quite liked the man but he learned a long time ago how it feels to lose friends, Hera? Not so much.

Again, the rest of his team didn't say anything as they carried the coffin into the helicopter, most stared at the old fashioned wooden coffin before they went on to their work, collecting the bodies of the aliens that killed the man.

Johan waited until he was alone in the helicopter before he lightly placed his hand on the coffin.

"A cry for all humanity who struggle without a light"

He said solemnly before he turned back to the battlefield, there still were dozens of valuable artifacts that needed to be recovered lying around. Perhaps the scientists and engineers could make an armor that protected the soldiers against these deadly plasma weapons. Sure, the mathematically speaking the losses were still in favor of XCOM but Johan was pretty sure there were hundreds of aliens for every single one of the soldiers that walked around inside the XCOM headquarters.

After only few hours of work and a long flight home the 'Tidy Team' touched down again inside the XCOM hangar, there was plenty of personnel standing ready to carry to coffin and the artifacts so Johan took a quick shower before he went to the memorial to join the service for Ryan Chen.

He didn't retreat this his bed this time, Johan went to the bar to take a few drinks, when he arrived there he was surprised to see Hera, leaning against the wall and holding her guitar.

He saw what she wanted to do but also that she didn't have the courage to just turn off the Jukebox and start playing.
Johan just gave her an encouraging smile and walked over to the Jukebox, he waited until "In the end" by Linkin park finished and then turned the machine off.

Hera looked nervous as the various people who were drinking and chatting tried to figure out why the music had stopped, but nevertheless she walked to an empty table in the middle of the room. She sat down on top of the table and started playing.

She first played Reignite and after that Frozen Sleep, both songs she had seen on Youtube a long time ago and loved ever since, they felt appropriate to Johan.

When she finished the last song she stayed just long enough to receive an applause before quickly retreating back to her room.

Johan decided to do the same thing and quickly finished his drink before he walked back to his own room.

He didn't feel like sleeping just yet so he decided to read through some old emails that he had gotten. Of-course he read them the moment they arrived at his account, but reading old emails was a just something that he kept doing when he was bored.

To: Johan De Fries

Title: A reminder

Mister DeFries,

considering the data gathered by Quincy Fuhler, after the capture of the last UFO, I wanted to remind you to contain the alien substance, known as Elyrium in radiation proof containers, due its supposed radioactivity. While we haven’t had enough of a sample to study it and be certain, preliminary data from the time it was here, suggest we should err on the side of caution.

With respect,

Cerise Vahlen.

Johan didn't have time to open another email because of the soft knock on his door.

This was probably the first time that someone had come to his room at the XCOM headquarters so Johan quickly got up and opened the door.

A woman was standing there, clad in a dressing gown and with her brown hair hanging loose over her shoulders instead of the pony tail she always wore. She looked very out of place surrounded by the steel walls of the base, and probably surprised a few people on the way from her barracks to Johan's room.
But Johan didn't care about that, all he saw was her black eyeliners that were ruined by tears.
"Hera, what are you-" He asked before she cut him off

"It's Celia again. Dad."