X-COM Chronicle – Entry 19: The Artful Dodger
Written by: Adam "ManKorn" Korenman, CC2K Video Games Editor
I ducked under a blast of plasma, feeling the heat on the back of my neck. The bolt splashed against the wall behind me, burning a hole straight through the hull. I popped up in an instant, sighting the Floater and bringing him down.
“Alpha, report!” I called out. I hugged a wall as another Floater team appeared.
The three aliens rocketed toward us, hollering and screaming and firing their pistols. Chris and Durand blasted one, and Olga knocked out the second. I turned to see out new guy, Liang, pop off a quick burst that took down the last flying creature.
“Alpha’s hot,” Chris said. “Looking good.”
An explosion drew my attention to a loading ramp near the back of the ship. Corey emerged from a column of smoke, brushing ash off his armor. “Oh, there you are, Liang.” He punched the rookie on the arm. “Bravo’s up. Dusted one Muton.”
I looked around. “And where are his friends? They never travel alone.”
Corey gestured to a portal near the starboard power room. We could hear the grunts and curses coming from the other side. I groaned and took my place in the stack. We lined up on both sides of the glowing blue door, preparing for what was on the other side. Mutons, as we’d come to call the lovable giant murder tanks, were tough but dumb. A coordinated attack usually put them down quickly.
Chris opened the door and two Mutons stared back. Their eyes glowed yellow. Both ran for cover, but we were ready. Chris and Durand fried one, and I caught the other in the leg. It went down, but leapt up again a moment later. It hunkered behind cover, looking to take a shot. It never saw Liang coming.
I’d sent him flanking around the side. When the Muton bolted, it fell right into my trap. Liang leapt out from his cover, firing a blast from the Arc Thrower. The wounded alien didn’t stand a chance and went down twitching.
We took a moment to reload and regroup. I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer size of the Abductor ship. It boggled the mind. From front to back, it had to be at least a quarter mile long. We cleared to the center and found row after row of upright pods, each frosted over. Durand checked the cables and found they were pumping an Earth-like atmosphere into the containers.
“What are these for?”
I ran my hand over the frosted glass and leaped back. Inside was a woman, her face locked in an endless scream. Liang swore in Chinese, and Chris tried to pry open the container. Durand held him back.
“We can’t let any of these guys out,” Durand said. “The alien’s could have injected them with any number of toxic compounds. We’d be exposing ourselves.”
Chris pointed to the ground, where a few tables and cabinets had spilled onto the floor. Surgical tools, or the alien approximation, lay scattered all around us. The grim realization dawned for everyone at the same time.
“This is an autopsy room.”
My blood boiled, but this wasn’t the time to let emotions run wild. We still had enemy onboard, and we still had a job to do. With Chris on point, we made our way up another ramp to a massive glowing door. Preliminary scans of the ship indicated this to be the bridge.
I nodded to the team and we breached, charging into the room with our weapons trained at every corner. The Outsider appeared immediately, blossoming into the room and firing a wild shot high overhead. It paused when it realized we had it surrounded.
Chris turned to me. “Do we need to take this one alive?”
I brought my rifle up to my cheek. “Negative.” My shot punctured the Outsider’s head just over its mouth. Chris and Durand followed, with blasts from their laser rifles. Liang, Corey and Olga each got their shots in after. The creature fell in splinters to the deck.
We collapsed against the walls, exhausted. All told, we’d cleared more aliens in this ship than any Scout before it. Six Mutons, six Floaters, a Seeker pair, and the Outsider. That no one even had a scratch was more luck than skill. I knew that it wouldn’t last forever. In my gut, I knew the other shoe would always drop eventually.
For now, I felt we’d earned a few beers.
“Big Sky, this is Strike One. We’re ready for pickup.”