"Strike-1, welcome home"
We returned to the base as the sun was rising, bringing in a fresh day that contrasted sharply with the night we had left behind in China.
When the Skyranger's door opened, there was a strangely still atmosphere; it seemed as though everyone on the base was holding their breath while they awaited our arrival.
I stepped off the Skyranger, the rest of the squad following behind me. Our footsteps echoed in the hanger, a testament to the weight of what we'd seen, what we'd done. I could feel dozens of eyes on us as we passed, their gazes a mix of relief, admiration, and fear as we set off to give our debrief.
Bullseye was the first to speak, recounting the mission in a grim voice. His recounting was meticulous, from the first sighting of the aliens to the last gunshot. His tale was a chilling reminder of what we were up against, of the horrors that lay beyond our understanding.
Next was Titan, his deep voice filling the room as he recounted his perspective. His narrative painted a picture of urban warfare, of buildings crumbling under gunfire, of terrified civilians caught in the crossfire. Despite his injuries, he remained stoic, his commitment unwavering.
Medusa's report was the hardest to listen to. She spoke of the injured, of the lives she had saved and those she couldn't. Her voice was steady, but her eyes told a different story, a story of pain and loss.
As their words filled the room, I was filled with a mixture of pride and dread. Pride for the team that had faced unimaginable horrors and emerged victorious. Dread for the future we were racing towards.
The remainder of the debriefing was a haze as the Commander discussed casualty figures and battle statistics, his voice pouring over me as he talked. The good news was that Medusa received the Cross of David Medal of Honor, which she deserved. I was glad for her, but I found it difficult to concentrate on the facts and data that were being presented to us because of the images of China's streets, the sounds of gunfire and screams, the smell of smoke, and the fear that they evoked. I approached the Commander for a word as we were being dismissed.
"A word, commander?"
"Rogers"
"I apologize if this is inappropriate, but why didn't we help?"
"We did what we could to assist."
"I can't help but think that we could have done more."
"Could we have, no but in the same vein, should we have yes"
"I'm sorry, commander?" I responded, obviously perplexed by his assertion, which he sharply clarified.
"We should have prevented more deaths, we should have minimized the destruction. We should have been able to predict this, but we were unable to. You won't be able to recognize the positive aspects of what happened if you place an excessive amount of emphasis on what may have been rather than what really did. I understand how you feel, sergeant, but that responsibility belongs to me and me alone. The goal for you and your group is to be the top strike team on God's green earth."
"Yes sir
"Go to the medical bay and see Medusa; I have a feeling we'll need you much sooner than expected."
"Certainly, sir." As I turned to walk away, his voice stopped me dead in my tracks as he stated
"Also, James Don't dismiss yourself; think about what you accomplished and reread the brief."
"Yes Commander"
Once the conversation was over, I was ushered to the medical bay for a checkup. Medusa's capable hands moved over our injuries with a practiced ease, her eyes focused, her expression impassive. But I noticed the way her hands trembled ever so slightly when they brushed over Titan's burn, the way her eyes softened as she checked over my cuts and bruises.
We were returned to our quarters once our wounds had been treated. The others rushed to their bunks, their limbs sagging with tiredness. But I kept getting lured in circles and ended up at the research labs. Our meeting with the aliens had piqued my interest, and I felt compelled to learn more about what we were up against.
I found Dr. Vahlen in her lab, surrounded by alien artifacts and dissected bodies. She was deep in concentration, her fingers working meticulously as she examined a piece of alien tech. As I watched her work, a sense of awe filled me. Here, in this lab, we were slowly but surely unveiling the secrets of an alien race, their technology, their physiology, everything that made them tick.
"I thought I might find you here," Dr. Vahlen said, not taking her eyes off her work. "Your team's performance in China was commendable. The artifacts you brought back are quite... enlightening."
"I hope they can help us," I replied, my gaze lingering on the alien body lying on a nearby table.
"They already are," she said, finally looking up at me. Her eyes were alight with a spark of determination, a fire that echoed my own. "We're learning. Adapting. And we will prevail."
"By the way doctor what was that odd stillness that we saw?"
"Imagine it as a more potent anesthetic similar to what we use when performing surgery. They "sedate" the subjects before taking them, and before you can ask, yes, the effect will wear off."
"You knew huh"
She exclaimed, laughing loudly, "Your love for the human race is unmatched, my boy. James keep doing what your doing."
I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of optimism as I walked out of the lab. Yes, we were at war. Yes, we were up against a foe we had never seen before. But we are not helpless. We were growing, learning, and adapting. Unfortunately for them, that is what being a part of XCOM means.