Chapter 2: Landfall

I dreamed I was falling, fluffy clouds whipping past me against an azure sky as my stomach turned. The ground below was a patchwork of forest and farmland, and in the center was a house. As I plummeted towards the ground it came into focus, it was a farmhouse, my farmhouse. I could see the main building, the barn, the long empty grain silo a short distance away. I realized I wasn’t slowing, and as the ground rushed up to meet me I saw a figure standing in the doorway, it was ... me? The figure looked up at me, calm and expressionless as I slammed into the dirt.

I awoke with a start, opening my eyes to find myself in Vi’s arms. There was no gravity, I could feel myself floating in the air, the only thing keeping me anchored was Vi who had practically filled the small room with her coils and was bracing herself against the walls.

“What ... what’s going on?”

Vi hissed unhappily, she didn’t know. Had we somehow gone into space? No, that couldn’t be it. I looked around the room and realized the lights were off, only red warning lighting illuminated the space now, casting everything in an eerie crimson glow. Oh God, had we lost power in mid-air? Were we falling? I tried to breathe and struggled to keep myself from panicking, what could we do about this? We couldn’t fight back against gravity, it wasn’t some invading enemy. This ship was huge and if the power didn’t come back online before we hit the ground, we’d slam into the Earth like a meteorite, nobody would survive.

Suddenly there was a jolt, and Vi tensed, clutching me to her and preventing me from slamming into the floor as the ship’s engines whirred audibly and I felt us level out. The lights did not come back on, the warning lights still painted the room in a sinister shade of red as we looked to eachother with alarmed expressions.

There was a rumble underfoot as the Avenger touched down, that had been a short descent, how close had we come to cratering? Almost as soon as Vi had placed me gingerly on the metal deck, the vessel began to shake again. Booming pulses rocked us, vibrating the hull of the ship and deafening us, I looked at my arm and saw my hair standing on end as if I were awash in static electricity. What on Earth was going on?

“All hands, all hands,” a voice echoed over the intercom, it was the Commander. Finally, maybe he’d be able to tell us what the hell was going on. “We were shot down by an ADVENT craft and have made an emergency landing. The alien weapon disabled our engines temporarily, and they have deployed some kind of electromagnetic pylon to keep us powered down and on the ground. We are dead in the water, we need every soldier on hand to defend the ship and destroy that ADVENT weapon. We’re picking up heavy comm traffic, dozens of ADVENT transports are inbound on our position, and they’ve got battleships in tow. We need to move fast, all hands report to battle stations.”

We scrambled to get our gear back on as the message repeated, Vi attaching her metal chest piece, and me trying to pull my uniform on as I stepped around her tail. There was no time for a shower, we had to get to the hangar bay fast and retrieve our weapons. Vi blew through the door ahead of me, winding down the corridor, and I followed behind her with my head still trapped in my sweater. Other soldiers who had been on leave and were trying to get some shut eye were crowding the narrow halls too, bustling and rubbing shoulders as they all rushed to their stations.

The crowd made its way to the hangar, which was also packed with soldiers and a handful of SPARKs, the hulking combat robots standing twice the height of the human personnel. There was sunlight in the hangar bay, and it took me a moment to realize that the massive cargo ramp at the back of the ship had been lowered, fresh air and the sounds of birds flooded the sterile interior. I had never seen that door open before, most of the time I forget it was even there. There was a flurry of activity around the weapons racks as people scrambled for guns and ammo, taking position around the door as a Colonel in combat armor was raised into the air by a SPARK to stand on its shoulder. The room went quiet as a few dozen heads turned in his direction.

“You all heard the announcement,” he bellowed, his voice taking on a synthetic timbre through his helmet speakers. “We’re grounded until we can destroy the weapon that is sending out these pulses and keeping the engines offline.” As if on cue another wave of static washed over me, followed by what sounded almost like a sonic boom. “I’m sending out a team to locate and disable it, as for the rest of you, not one alien sets foot on this ship. Is that understood?”

There was a chorus of affirmations as the soldiers shouted their agreement and thrust their fists into the air.

“Present company excluded,” the Colonel added, nodding towards Vi. There was an echo of laughter and she received a few affectionate pats on her scaly rump. “Tombstone, Spitfire, Twitch, Dozer, Bonzai and Snake Eyes, you’re up! The rest of you, hold this door, the future of the rebellion depends on it!”

I stood at the bottom of the massive ramp, the bulk of the Avenger blocking out the sun behind me and casting a dark shadow on the ground. Around me stood a dozen soldiers, some rookies like me, others higher ranked officers sporting all manner of exotic weaponry and equipment. I gripped my standard issue assault rifle in my hands, it only fired conventional ammunition but it was better than harsh words. The area we had touched down in was oddly serene, it was a sunny day with an almost cloudless sky, and a cool wind rustled the grass and trees as birds chirped overhead. It was nice to be out of the claustrophobic confines of the ship, at least for a while, even if an entire ADVENT fleet was bearing down upon us.

The illusion of serenity was broken as another pulse of electromagnetic energy blew through the branches of the trees, sending the birds scrambling, screeching their displeasure. Vi and her team had gone ahead, they were out there somewhere, hunting down the device that was sending out these waves. It pained me to be waiting back here with the rear guard, but defending the ship was just as important. If we were boarded then there wouldn’t be anything for the away team to come back to.

The waiting was starting to get to me, and the soldiers around me seemed to echo the sentiment, switching their weight from foot to foot nervously and examining their weapons as if something might have changed since the last time they checked. The sounds of gunfire echoed through the trees, the away team had encountered resistance, probably ADVENT troops guarding the objective. The soldiers at my sides bristled and took up defensive positions around a low wall that had been erected for cover at the base of the ramp.

As if on cue the screaming of troop transports drowned out the sound of plasma fire, and three dropships painted in the red and black colors of the aliens came into view. They swung low, trying to stay out of our line of fire behind the treeline and rocky terrain, they had finally zeroed in on our position.

“Incoming, hold your fire until I give the signal,” the Colonel barked over the radio with a hiss of static. The damned electromagnetic interference was messing with the headsets. I steadied my rifle, trying to take deep breaths and calm the shaking in my hands. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, it was that more than the fear that gave me the shakes, I had been on missions before. I strained my eyes, scanning the treeline, trying to stay in cover behind the wall as my finger hovered over the trigger. I could hear the servos of the SPARKs whir as they turned towards the sound of the troop carriers, shouldering their great cannons and preparing to unleash a storm of bullets and missiles over our heads.

The blowback from the dropship engines shook the branches of the trees, giving the false impression of movement and making it harder to focus on the dark spaces between the trunks, where the enemy would soon be emerging. More waiting, always waiting. Whether it was languishing in the iron belly of the Avenger between sorties or hiding behind the cover of a burned out car, awaiting fire from a shooter you knew was present but could not see, the military life was one percent brutal combat and ninety nine percent nerve-wracking waiting.

Between the gnarled trunks of the trees, yellow and green lights emerged, bobbing as if they were marching forward. Before the Colonel could give the order to fire on the lurking shapes, bright green bolts of searing plasma hurtled at us from the treeline, splashing against the low wall and the hull of the Avenger behind us. I lowered my head in panic, just in time to feel the intense heat of a stream of glowing plasma sear my hair, missing me by an inch. I could already hear the bark of the heavy cannons that the SPARKs wielded as they returned fire, hot brass raining on the ground beneath their feet with a metallic clink. The Colonel was shouting something into the radio, but I couldn’t focus on his voice, the air was aflame with plasma and the shouting of angry and alarmed men.

I braced myself, finding the courage to peek over the wall just high enough that I could return fire, bracing my rifle on it for support as I unloaded at the forest. I couldn’t really see what I firing at, I could barely make out the dark shapes as they tried to take cover behind the thick trunks, illuminated briefly by the green flare of their return fire. I recognized the breathing mask and the silhouette of the armor, Mutons!

The whole formation of soldiers was firing in unison now, suppressing them as the red lances of lasers and the emerald flare of our own homemade plasma weapons seared the trees, starting small fires as the wood ignited under the intense heat and splintering the bark. A dark shape emerged from cover, smashing the trees in its path as if they were toothpicks and barreling towards our line, weathering the shots that hit it as if its pink skin was made of steel. A Berserker, near twice the size of its Muton counterparts, covered in hardened skin that acted as ballistic armor and pumped full of steroids to enrage the already ferocious beast. It hurtled at us, powerful muscles rippling under its pale skin, several soldiers turned their weapons on it as it closed the distance across the grass but to no avail.

One of the SPARKs lurched forward, driven by some unheard command, and vaulted over the defensive wall to charge towards the creature. The Berserker altered its course to intersect with the SPARK, and the two slammed into eachother with a force like a speeding truck hitting a brick wall. The alien roared in rage, hammering the robot’s chassis with a flurry of vicious punches, I could hear the impact as they battered the SPARK’s chassis. It stumbled under the blows, but dug its mechanical feet into the soil and grappled with the Berserker, its pistons hissing as it tried to angle its cannon towards its opponent.

As they fought, the Mutons began to emerge from the treeline, laying covering fire as they sprinted out of the shadows. There were seven or eight of them, trying to close so that they could use the wicked chain bayonets on their plasma rifles, the tribal tattoos that decorated their hide visible where their skin showed through their armor.

Two were cut down by well placed shots, but their plasma fire forced us to take cover, and I sat with my back to the wall as I tried to slam another magazine into my rifle. We took a casualty, a soldier to the left of me was hit in the chest by a bolt of energy and thrown off his feet with a flash of green light and acrid smoke, his chest armor melting under the heat. A medic ducked and scrambled towards him, taking him by the collar and pulling his limb body back towards the ramp. Another SPARK stepped forward, drawing fire from the Mutons and responding with a chatter of heavy shells. The explosive ammo knocked one of the aliens of its feet, and half a dozen other soldiers peppered it with shots, its orange blood spilling from smoking holes and its armor smoldering as it absorbed energy rounds.

Another Muton was dropped by a precise shot from what sounded like a sniper rifle. I looked up, trying to figure out where the sound had come from, and noticed a figure perched high up on the hull of the Avenger. It was a sniper wearing a spider suit, armor that allowed him to grapple up to elevated positions. I turned around and raised my rifle over the wall again, bracing it against my shoulder and laying down suppressing fire. My weapon probably wouldn’t penetrate their armor unless I got lucky, but it was enough to piss them off. The aliens were disoriented now, their resolve broke, and they started to scatter. The SPARK won its bout with the Berserker, knocking the beast to the dirt and unloaded its cannon at point blank range, splattering itself with gore. The fleeing Mutons were dispatched easily with heavy weapons fire as they fled.

There was a cheer of victory from the men, but that couldn’t have been everything. The Elders weren’t stupid and this was a high stakes fight, they would have sent more than just a few Mutons. Another wave of energy washed over us, followed by a loud boom, the away team was still fighting? What if they needed help? Could they even communicate with the Commander through all of this interference?

There was a deafening explosion, and I snapped my head around to see the SPARK that had killed the Berserker falling in a heap, one of its legs blown off as a cloud of soil rained around it. Two more shells hit nearby, kicking up dirt as they exploded and tore the robot apart, scattering its mechanical guts. Two ADVENT mechs were advancing on us, one of them stowing its smoking, shoulder-mounted mortar launcher. They were supported by a fireteam of deceptively humanoid ADVENT troopers scurrying behind them, an officer in red armor giving commands and gesturing as they advanced in our direction.

“Spread out, get out of range of that mortar!” The Colonel waved his hands at us, and I realized that we were all grouped around the cargo ramp. I ducked and ran, not waiting for further instructions, diving behind a boulder a short distance away and skidding on my ass as I came to a stop. I struggled to my feet and leaned around the rock, loosing a few imprecise shots at the alien squad, not hitting any of them but giving them something to worry about. I could see the mech readying its mortar and preparing to fire again, the XCOM soldiers fanning out and trying to get clear. The sniper who was perched on top of the Avenger fired again, downing a trooper, and the rest of them ducked behind their mechs for cover.

A cluster of shells landed where I had been stood a few moments ago, knocking stragglers off their feet and obscuring the ramp in a cloud of smoke and debris. I saw the flash of return fire, some of the more seasoned soldiers were flanking to the left, using the rocks as cover to put pressure on the ADVENT troopers. The two remaining SPARKs, one with its arm hanging limply as it dangled from pneumatic cables, vaulted over the wall and made a beeline for the enemy squad across the field that separated us. The firefight was really raging now, exchanges of laser and plasma fire flew in both directions, and my stomach turned as I saw more Mutons coming in from the treeline on the right. They were going to overwhelm us if the away team didn’t bring down the alien weapon soon, we couldn’t hold out forever. Worse, if those battleships arrived they would turn the entire area into a crater.

Another blast of static washed over me, making my hair stand on end and filling my headset with buzzing static. There had to be some kind of problem, the weapon should have been disabled by now. I looked around, trying to get my bearings and evaluate the situation, peering through the smoke that drifted across the grass. A few XCOM soldiers were advancing behind the two remaining SPARKs and using them as cover to lay down suppressing fire on the ADVENT troopers, who were hurriedly communicating, directing their mechs to shell the ramp and keep the defensive line from reforming. From the cover of the trees to the right of me, the reinforcing Muton squad began to fire, their plasma catching the advancing soldiers off guard. I couldn’t see the Colonel, and I couldn’t hear anything through the radio distortion.

If Vi was in trouble she wouldn’t be able to call for help, and we couldn’t hold out much longer, I could hear the scream of more ADVENT troop transports in the distance. I shouted to the three closest soldiers, taking cover behind some rocks a few meters away from me. They could barely hear me over the sound of the battle, but one turned his head, then patted his neighbor on the shoulder. I gestured for them to come to me, waving my hand. They had no reason to do as I said, they seemed to be rookies like me clad in what amounted to surplus armor and equipped with weapons that would barely scratch anything tougher than a Sectoid, but I seemed to be the only one taking initiative. They ducked and dashed towards me, heads low to avoid the bolts of green energy that glanced over them. They threw themselves behind my rock, hunkering down and catching their breath.

“We gotta push,” I shouted over the gunfire. “The static from the objective is scrambling the comms, the away team should have reported in by now!”

“What’s your plan,” the rookie beside me asked, straightening his helmet and looking up at me expectantly. The other two waited for my reply, and I realized that I had just been unofficially declared squad leader.

“We’re gonna go right, through the trees, flush those Mutons out and drive them into the open.”

“But what can we do against Mutons,” the soldier asked, squinting at me skeptically. “Our rifles won’t penetrate their armor!”

I patted my ballistic vest, feeling around for my ammo pouches. My fingers closed around a metal sphere, and I drew my grenade, brandishing it so that the rookies could see it.

“You still have your grenades? These will shred their armor, flush them out into the field where they’ll be sitting ducks, if we coordinate we can surprise them.”

“It’ll never work,” one of them declared, clutching his assault rifle to his chest as he sat with his back against the boulder. “If they see us first they’ll tear through us with those plasma rifles, in case you hadn’t noticed we aren’t wearing W.A.R suits!”

His friend gave him a shove, scowling at him as he reloaded his weapon.

“So what, you just gonna sit here and watch everyone die, Garcia? Get your ass up.” The man rose reluctantly and shouldered his rifle. I looked back to the left to see if I could get any more support, but another hail of mortars rained down and kicked up a fresh cloud of smoke. Nobody would be able to see or hear us through this, either we stopped those Mutons or they would flank and catch everyone else with their pants down. I breathed deeply, trying to calm myself, then waved my new squad forward. They followed behind me as circled to the right, using the rocks for cover and trying to avoid being seen by the pack of Mutons who lurked between the trees. They seemed more concerned with firing randomly into the smoke, keeping the XCOM soldiers who were still trying to guard the ramp pinned. We reached the edge of the forest unmolested, slipping between the trees with our weapons at the ready. The sounds of battle were muffled a little, and we could hear eachother a little easier now.

“Grenades at the ready,” I whispered, “throw them on my command, short fuse. Remember, we’re not trying to kill them, we just need to push them out of the treeline.”

We crept through the undergrowth, our boots crunching in piles of fallen leaves and snapping twigs. Every sound seemed to be amplified a hundred-fold, I was almost afraid to breathe lest I somehow give us away. My heart jumped as my headset hissed to life, a garbled transmission coming through in pieces.

“Squad ... right of the ... support from ... into the open ... clear ... of sight.” I tapped my earpiece in frustration.

“What was that? Didn’t copy, repeat!”

“You ... into the field, so I ... up here.” Damn it, I could barely make out a word, but it seemed as if someone knew we were here, were they offering fire support? It was hard to tell, but it was the only assumption I could make.

“I think I copy,” I replied, “give us what support you can.”

As we made our way through the brush using the trees as cover, bursts of green light came into view, the muzzle flash from the plasma weapons the Mutons carried. I hoped to God I wasn’t making a mistake, their chainsaw bayonets would make mincemeat of us if we couldn’t drive them out of the woods. They had taken up position where the forest ended, hidden between the trees as they popped off shots, but from this angle the shadowy canopy did little to obscure their armored bulks. I gestured for the team to move forward, and we crept closer, readying grenades. We got behind them, placing them directly between us and the edge of the forest, if they were going to flee from us it would send them out into the open.

Someone stood on a fallen branch, the wood cracking audibly, and one of the aliens turned its masked face in our direction. Its yellow eyes widened and it swung its plasma rifle towards us. We primed our grenades and threw them without hesitation, darting behind trees for what little cover they might provide. There was a quartet of explosions that shook the trees, raining leaves and debris on us, kicking up a cloud of dirt and sending the Mutons reeling. I chanced a glance from behind my now shrapnel-scarred tree trunk, seeing one Muton lying limp on the ground, and the others scrambling for cover.

“Don’t let them entrench,” I shouted, “drive them out!”

I braced my assault rifle against my shoulder and walked towards the fleeing aliens, firing controlled bursts at anything I could see. The chatter of my weapon was joined by three more, and we advanced together, peppering the enemy with rounds. We felled another, a lucky shot must have gotten through a joint in its armor, and the others left the protection of the trees. One dropped immediately, falling to the floor like a sack of bricks, and after a short delay the thunder crack of a high powered rifle rang out. The sniper in the spider suit! He must has seen us trying to flank, and had tried to communicate his support over the radio. The last remaining alien swung his rifle around, unable to work out where the fire was coming from, then he crashed to the grass in kind with most of his head blow away in a mess of orange ichor and gore.