Holy shit finally got done writing this update.
The opening days of March were positive for X-COM. In order to curb alien incursions in the region and calm the fears of our Chinese funders, a new base was established in Southeast Asia.
Welcome From Earf is little more than a glorified listening post; it is doubtful we'll ever expand there more than to add a hangar and some general stores for an extra Interceptor's armaments. Its main use will be to monitor the region, as well as the Indian Ocean and part of Australia for alien incursions.
A small UFO was spotted early on over China. Phred's interceptor brought it down easily enough. The assault-and-clear was standard fare; the team cleared the surviving floater crew easily enough, though once more we failed to capture either a power source or alien fuel. Doctor Surlethe is theorizing that the alien’s cores are exploding due to the sheer manliness of our weaponry.
No casualties were suffered, though our eager use of HWP rockets meant that we had insufficient rockets to rearm the tank upon return to base. Safety interlocks do not allow the tanks to be deployed unless they have a full load of missiles, to which Commander Wong sent a letter of complaint to the tanks' manufacturers. The letter in question contained strong language regarding several dubious anatomical activities, as well as a number of crude but most emphatic drawings.
A couple of days later, two new contacts appeared.
Contact with UFOs significantly larger than anything previously encountered resulted in numerous sets of underwears being browned and/or yellowed.
High Command dispatched one Interceptor after each UFO; phred's was tasked with pursuing and tracking the larger one, but was under orders to not engage unless necessary. Coalition, meanwhile, tracked down the smaller UFO. Several Avalanche missiles later, the UFO was downed over eastern China. The larger one, meanwhile, landed, dicked around for a bit, and then ninja'd the fuck away from us when we weren't looking and disappeared over the Arctic.
Without any HWP rockets to rearm the tank, the Skyranger was instead loaded with a large, well-armed infantry squad consisting of our very best soldiers, moving out with orders to level the landscape before them in order to secure the UFO.
Code: Select all
UFO Crash Clearance
Squad: Heavy Zablorg, Weemadando, MJ12-2, MJ12-3, Vanas, Stark, Wautd, White Haven, Ohma, Decue, Vendetta, Alfonso, Karza, Ryan Thunder
Note: In lieu of decent screenshots, because fuck me if I got any good ones for this operation, things will be presented in a more...prose format. Also, lol MSPaint
Terrain:
"CRY SOME MORE!" The most beautiful Zablorg thundered down the Skyranger's ramp as it settled onto the ground and immediately opened fire of the floater hovering just north of the landing zone. It vanished in a fusillade of human-ordained divine justice.
“Fire teams, fan out,” Colonel Haven shouted as the fourteen-man squad stormed down the ramp. “Staggered line, five meter spread, moving east toward the crash site! Ohma, ‘Dando, secure that house. Vendetta, Alfonso, with me south, we’re clearing those orchards!”
“Colonel, possible cover one hundred meters ahead. Looks like some farm buildings,” Private Thunder reported.
“Weapons teams, update the insurance policies,” Haven ordered. With mad laughter, Vanas, Zablorg, Wautd, and Decue opened up, unleashing volleys of explosive shells and rockets at the pair of farm buildings. Wood splintered and shattered, and high explosive ripped through the empty structures, hurling debris into the sky and filling the area with smoke and dust.
“Cover neutralized,” Vanas reported.
“WE MAKE GOOD TEAM!” shouted the ambigiously-gendered Zablorg, flipping his or her gorgeous locks over one shoulder.
To the south, Ohma and Weemadando advanced, laser pistols and stun prods in hand, closing with the house. Both men quickly lined up outside and bashed down the door, with Weemadando circling around outside and Ohma bravely facing down the monstrous alien horrors in close combat with his tazer-on-a-stick.
As Weemadando circled around the building, he spotted a floater on the south side, rising up over the building to see why God himself was punching the everloving shit out of the farm. The answer never came, as two laser beams punched through the grotesque alien’s chin and sent it flopping into the corn field.
“Lotta smoke,” Karza reported as he and MJ12-3 moved ahead toward the wrecked buildings, with Ryan Thunder and Vanas right behind them. “Wish we had a tank for spotting.”
“Well,” MJ12-3 said, moving over the smoking, almost-glassy dirt, “if Hawk would be sober for five minutes we would-”
Tink-tink.
Karza never got the chance to wonder how a grenade rolling in dirt made such a Call of Duty-esque tinkling sound, as his body was vaporized along with MJ12-3’s.
“Floater in the orchard!” The warning had barely sounded before the floater in question, hovering over the trees to get a shot wit its grenade, became two distinctly separate objects. Its disparate halves, smoking from the massive, blinding laser beam, dropped to the grass.
Sniper Stark, still standing on the Skyranger’s ramp, sneered in stereotypical contempt at the alien’s corpse, and strode down to the grass, heavy laser in hand.
“House clear, called Ohma as he walked out onto the roof of the building. “I’ve got a good line of sight on the roof.”
“You’re going to play sniper on the roof with a pistol?” Weemadando asked as he jogged up behind Haven’s team.
“Hey, physics exploit, its a legitimate strategy,” Ohma said over the radio, his voice carrying his shrug along with it.
“Quiet down, keep your eyes open,” Haven ordered as his team moved through the field and swung east toward the UFO crash site. By now they could see the thing clearly: it was huge, three stories tall at least. By far larger than any of the small scouts they’d been killing thus far.
“Vendetta, you see anything?”
Vendetta’s answer was cut off, along with his face. A floater two hundred meters away, at the bare edges of their vision and hiding in the shadow of the UFO, blew his head to ashes. Haven snapped up his rocket launcher and fired, hitting the side of the UFO and shredding the alien.
“Vendetta!” Alfonso shouted, running to his side. “No! Your Guy Fawkes avatar was too awesome to suffer such a fate! WHY IS IT ALWAYS THE BEAUTIFUL ONES?”
Meanwhile, the remaining half of the squad moved through the smoke and dust of the ruined buildings. Private Ryan Thunder took two steps into the smoke, and then started convulsing.
“Oh, God! Smoke! My one weakness, aside from death!” he then fell over unconscious.
Note: Seriously. Ryan set one foot into the smoke, and then BAM! “RYAN THUNDER HAS FALLEN UNCONSCIOUS”.
Decue grabbed Ryan’s unconscious body and started hauling it out of the smoke, while the rest of the squad pushed through the deadly clouds of dust and came into sight of the UFO.
“Okay, there’s the UFO,” Wautd said. “Let’s hold position here and wait for the rest of the squad to finish securing the area, and then we can-”
The door to the UFO opened, a floater poked its head out, and shot MJ12-2 in the neck.
“No! My sub-par cloned breathing tubes!” he cried. The other squadmembers, too shocked by the fact that he could shout like that with half his neck turned to vapor, let the floater run back inside the ship, making rude gestures as it did so.
Decue got Ryan Thunder out of the smoke, just in time for him to expire. Filled with MANLY RAGE, Decue rose and opened fire on the nearby barn. The rocket lanced through the window and blew up inside, killing another floater who was preparing to send an email via Blackberry to its little floaty children showing off the beautiful landscape of eastern China.
You bastard.
Ohma caught up with Weemadando, Alfonso, Haven, and the recently shortened Vendetta, in time for the Colonel to send all the expendables - er, assault troops to clear the building south of the UFO. Off they rushed, tazers and laser pistols in hand. Halfway through the field, they caught sight of a floater outside the building, hiding in the shadows, and opened fire with a gusto and relish.
They neglected accuracy.
The floater looked up in shock, dropping its copy of the Wall Street Journal, and returned fire with its heavy plasma, infuriated that someone would interrupt its daily checking of stock quotes.
Ohma dropped to his knees, blinking, his torso vaporized, and realized that he’d died a rookie’s death, as he’d always feared. He opened his mouth to let out a death cry, but then was hit in the back of the head by a rocket.
“Oh, fuck,” Haven said, wincing, and grabbed a second rocket.
“That fire was distinctly unfriendly!” Weemadando shouted, completely uninjured due to rolling a natural 20 on his reflex save and having multiclassed in rogue. Alfonso, meanwhile, said little, beyond the pattering plops of gibbled meat raining down around the farm.
Note: Yes. Haven’s rocket fell short and hit EXACTLY where Ohma died, killing Alfonso and somehow not hurting Weemadando, though I think he might have been out of its burst radius.
Meanwhile, outside the UFO.....
“HOW DOES LITTLE MAN SPEAK WITHOUT THROAT?” Zablorg asked, as they all loitered around the entrance to the UFO.
“I dunno,” Stark said. “Call Mythbusters.”
Elsewhere, the floater stock broker said something about consolidating its investments and buggered off back inside the building. Letting out a cackle of glee, Haven loaded a large rocket, while Weeadando ran the hell away from the field of smoking death. As the floater speed-dialed its advisor, thinking it should expand its portfolio with some diamond shares, the rocket punched through the window and hit the wall beside it. Thus ended its efforts to get its teenage floater children through college on a stable investment fund.
You guys are assholes, you know that?
Meanwhile, back at the UFO.....
“Uno!” yelled Wautd, holding up a single card. Cursings and mutters followed.
“THIS GAME IS HARD!” Zablorg complained.
Finally, Haven and Weemdando caught up. Launchers were loaded, autocannons were prepped, tazers were tazified, and they prepared to breach the UFO with their admittedly reduced numbers. The door flew open, and a floater came in sight. Sneering contemptibly, Stark blew off its head with a contemptible sneer.
“Move inside! Secure the first floor! Rockets, switch to sidearms!”
The squad poured into the room, shoving down the hallway, which was choked with.....SMOKE!
“No, my delicate nasal passages!” Decue cried, and keeled over when the smoke caressed his nostrils.
Meanwhile, the rest of the squad charged through the lower levels of the huge UFO. They found a room that looked like a dissection chamber, complete with a dead cow in the middle of being cut apart, and various other rooms, marked by laser fire. Once again, it seemed, X-COM had proven too badass for their own good and had destroyed the UFO power source and fuel.
“TO THE SECOND FLOOR!” Zablorg yelled, and they charged into the next level, up a mysterious elevator-like device in the middle of the downed vessel. Upon arrival, they found themselves in a section of the ship containing numerous body parts and processed organs. Quick on the take, Zablorg guessed their purpose.
“THIS IS WHERE ALIENS MAKE SANDVICHES!”
The squad found two elevators on the second floor, and split up. Zablorg, Haven and Stark took one, while Vanas, Wautd, and Weemadando took the other. They rushed up to the third floor, finding empty rooms at opposite ends of the ship, and a single chamber in the center. The fire-teams stacked up, preparing to breach. Close combat weapons were readied.
Haven counted down. Three seconds. Two seconds. One-
The door opened, a floater poked his head out, and then shot Colonel Haven in the chest.
“HAVEN? HAVEN?! HAVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!?”
Zablorg grabbed Haven’s body and, cradling it in one hand, rushed into the next room and fucking hosed the three Floaters lurking inside, killing all three in one burst of MANLY TEARS.
Meanwhile, forgotten and alone, Decue died a pathetic, choking death due to smoke inhalation on the last turn.
Man, you guys are dicks.
Terrain afterwards:
Post mission analysis: FUCK THAT SHIT. We are never going anywhere without tank support EVER AGAIN. Also, SMOKE = BAD.
Also, you guys are dicks.
I find it amusing that the floaters only killed like six of us, and most of that was due to reaction fire and the fact that our own reaction fire blew. lol smoke inhalation.