Great to see the return of the FFML!
Since we're catching up on fics that would have otherwise been
uploaded, I'll do likewise (plus, I like how things on the FFML
auto-archive on sanjiyan, and I know at least a few people
read TRTC there). I've got a few chaps to upload, actually.
Starting with 13, and ending eventually in 16 (the newest).
Other archives for TRTC include:
My Site
http://www.wagnergrp.com/JBW_Website/Fanfiction/TRTC.htm
and FFN
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2314624/1/
-----
For six years, mankind has waged a Secret War against an enemy from
Beyond the Stars. Newly drafted into XCOM, the Nerima Wrecking Crew
struggle both to fulfill their new obligations to defend humanity, and
to put an end to their own personal rivalries and infighting. The duel
between Ukyou and Konatsu is over, but the fight between Ryouga, India
Squad and his possessed father has only just begun amid the ruins of the
Kounji Okonomiyaki Restaurant, and the ki blasted streets of Osaka.
-----
The Road to Cydonia
Chapter XIII
What the Dead Think
-----
Written by:
Capn Chryssalid
jbraveboy@gmail.com
-----
11/24/06 to 11/25/06
What is XCOM?
Despite everything that I've done today, and everything I've seen today,
for some reason my mother's words echo over and over in my mind. I used
to record my thoughts during the day, back when I wandered by myself,
and then burn the paper in the campfire that night. Looking back, a lot
of it was just aimless, wistful thinking, so if this entry drags on
longer than normal, I suppose I'm past due. But I shouldn't get ahead of
things.
Yesterday, for the first time in several years, I saw my father.
-----
"Why... why won't you just die...? I don't... don't understand..."
Tetsuya sighed in response to the somewhat ridiculous question as he
stood amid the beaten but breathing bodies of his opponents. Shaking the
sleeve of his coat, he felt the last few pieces of cloth fall back into
place and sew back up. He was unhurt, and most of the other men were
just unconscious, so there wasn't any real harm done there. But the man
on his knees in front of him, the one cradling his ruined right hand,
wasn't as fortunate. He'd made the mistake of trying to use a handgun to
compensate for the failure of his techniques, and now his index and
middle fingers were lying on the ground, having been blown off at the
knuckles.
"You fucking monster... my hand is... my hand is..."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," Tetsuya said, and out of the corner of his
eye he saw Mitsuko getting back on her feet, shaking off the last few
cords of rope, and trying to untie the gag around her mouth. A part of
him really preferred the often noisy and boisterous girl with it on. She
was the kind of tomboy his father had always warned him about, which (in
a way) was also part of her charm... sometimes.
"Sorry," he continued, bowing his head slightly. "But you did attack me
and kidnap my fellow student here. How about we just call things even?"
Mitsuko yelled a muffled curse that promised more pain for the men who
had jumped her and tied her up for the last few hours, and Tetsuya
turned to try and calm her down. She wasn't really much of a fighter,
having only learned a little karate to keep in touch with her Japanese
roots, but when sufficiently provoked (a very subjective thing indeed)
it was like her strength tripled. Obviously living in the United States
for so long had brought out her more violent impulses.
"Even?" The other man spat out the word, and Tetsuya kept a close eye on
him for any further trouble.
"I don't pretend to condone what my father did to your family, to your
people," Tetsuya said, hoping his honest regret and empathy would
finally reach this man who seemed so consumed by hatred and revenge. "I
can't imagine what it was like for you. But you had no right to come
here and attack innocent people just because they were my friends. When
you did that, you lost whatever moral high ground you once had."
For a few seconds, the beaten man scrunched his eyes together, and
Tetsuya allowed himself to entertain the notion that maybe, finally,
things would be settled without the need for more fighting. One of the
reasons he'd come to America was to get away from the Hibiki Legacy in
Japan, and the endless fights there. America was supposed to be
someplace better, where the seeds of peace were taking root among the
younger generation. He wasn't like his father. He didn't like to fight,
didn't enjoy hurting people, and he never wanted to take another's life.
No one had that right.
Then, the man's eyes opened, overflowing with fear and anger.
"Since that first day we met, you talked about justice, and right and
wrong..." With his bloody right hand, the man reached into his leather
jacket and unclipped something. As he brought it out, he covered it
partially with his left hand. Only when it was too late did Tetsuya
realize what it was.
A pineapple grenade, with the clip already pulled.
"I don't care about right or wrong!" The man proclaimed, lips drawn back
in a mad smile. "Revenge is its own justification!"
-----
Tetsuya looked into his son's eyes, and saw that same mixture of fear
and anger.
"Why," he wondered, "Had life come to this?"
He had never been a model father. He had never really been there for his
son, but he had tried to be, despite the family curse. Though he didn't
know his son that well, he did love him, and given the limitations of
their condition he had honestly tried to give Ryouga every advantage he
could. Really, he knew why life had come to this, and he knew that some
of the blame lay on his shoulders.
As for where the rest of the blame lay... that was no longer in his
hands.
'Shall I test his skills as well?' he thought, and something distant
answered - something deep, and dark, and timeless. Something that had
watched when man landed on the Moon, that had listened when the first
radio was tested, that had seen when a handful of tiny ships crossed the
Atlantic, and when the Great Pyramids first began to take form.
NO
'The others, then?'
NO
'Kuonji?'
NO
'What would you have me do?'
KILL THEM
And that, sadly, was that.
It began with a roar. Ryouga charged, the ki charged bandanna in his
hand skidding along the edge of his father's razor edged cloth ribbon in
a spray of sparks. To his right, another young man - the name and known
abilities quickly filled his mind - began to slash his arms, creating a
flurry of vacuum blades headed in his direction. To his left, yet
another young man began to charge, his sword out in front of him in a
thrusting motion. A half dozen police officers were also on the scene
while others evacuated shocked civilians, and he could see men dropping
out of the back of a black riot control van.
A few months ago, a situation like this would've been trouble...
There was no need to test anyone here or learn from their abilities.
Sure enough, the Voice assured him that he was free to use both his own
abilities, and his enhancements. Jumping wasn't an option. They had
obviously gotten into position for this simultaneous attack, and that
sort of tactic would be both expected and anticipated. No: he would let
them come, and show them exactly what they were up against. Maybe then
they would be able to beat him the next time around, when he didn't have
orders to so much as survive.
The Voice could make him comply, but it would never make him compliant.
Kuno was the slowest, and also projected to be the weakest of the trio
by far. Ryu's vacuum blades came first. Their trajectory was not
difficult to discern, and at his beckoning, long ribbon like strips of
navy blue cloth tore from his coat, and lanced out in the Kumon boy's
direction. They intercepted the blades, scattering them like broken
glass, and forcing Ryu had to desperately jump back to avoid being
filleted like a fish. He ducked and back flipped through the wreckage of
the back of Kuonji's restaurant, narrowly escaping unscathed as he
twirled over a stone countertop that quickly became sliced to pieces.
Ryu skidded on one hand and looked up, just as three razor sharp tips of
iron cloth stopped just a foot from his face.
Tetsuya noted that the Kumon fighter had been faster than expected, and
more agile. Now he knew the effective limit of the Zantetsuiichou or
Iron Killing Clothes, as well. It was somewhat unfortunate, but hardly
the end of the world. He turned his attention back to the matter at
hand. Ryouga was in close now, but he knew not to fight his father head
on. He slid instead, aiming to clip Tetsuya's feet out from under him.
The older man took a step towards his son, pulled back his right hand,
and slammed the palm of it down into Ryouga's guarded chest. The ground
beneath Tetsuya's son buckled and cracked. The force of the blow broke
even the concrete foundations beneath the store, causing them to rise up
and stick out at an angle that, not coincidentally, sent Tetsuya into
the air. He crossed his arms, and mentally retracted the icon killing
cloth he'd sent in a pre-planned path after Ryu.
"You won't escape, restaurant destroying knave!" The swordsman of the
group yelled from below, and he leapt up into the air with a grunt of
effort. To Tetsuya's surprise, the sword in his hand began to glow. It
looked like Kuno was about to unleash something interesting... when he
began to fall back down to earth.
"CURSES!" Kuno yelled upwards, his jump quite plainly not up to his
expectations. Behind him, Ryouga flipped out of the crater he'd made in
the ground, his body wrapped in a black and green glow. Tetsuya could
clearly see the particles of ki moving from his son's abdomen, up to his
chest, down his arms, and into his hands. He knew what was coming.
Ryouga took a step out of the way to make sure Kuno wasn't in his line
of fire, and then he unleashed a two handed shishi hokoudan without so
much as a cry of warning. The black ball of willpower shot from his
fingers like a round from an artillery piece, kicking up dust behind him
and shaking the ground under his feet from the recoil. The front of it
burned red, as if from friction with the air. It was definitely going
more than two times the speed of sound, and Tetsuya knew there was no
way to dodge it, even if he was on the ground.
Still, he knew where it was aimed, and he quickly moved his right hand
to cover his heart. There was only a foot of clearance between his chest
and the back of his hand, and with his elbow sticking out it wasn't the
kind of angle where he'd get much muscle power to cushion the impact.
However, all these problems were ultimately irrelevant. His son would
see, first hand, the power of the perfected Hibikiken - the ultimate
defensive technique.
The shishi hokoudan hit Tetsuya's open palm with the force of a runaway
eighteen-wheeler... and bounced back. On the ground, whatever Ryouga's
reaction may have been, Tetsuya couldn't see it. He and Kuno both
disappeared in a cloud of kicked up ash, dust, and dried batter shortly
after Ryouga's own ki blast plowed into him, sending the leader of India
Squad flying across the street and into a parked police car. The Toyota
absorbed the blow as the engine crumpled like tin foil. Ryoga bounced
off from the impact, flying through the air, while the car spun in a
circle, losing both right side wheels.
Tetsuya alighted softly on a broken table.
His son's shishi hokoudans had gotten... more intense, it seemed.
"DON'T MOVE!" Tetsuya felt a tingle run up his spine. It was rare to
encounter verbal ki maneuvers, but he already knew of this one, and
easily shook off the paralysis effect. He turned slightly even as Ryu
drew back his right leg and crossed his arms in preparation for the Moko
Kaimon Ha technique. It was still a wise choice in attack: sweep the
enemy's arms away and strike their center. Had Tetsuya not known that
little bit about it, from the memories torn out of Ryouga's mind many
weeks ago aboard an alien craft, then he would have likely actually been
hit by it.
Instead, he stepped into Ryu's attack vector, and held out his right
hand, lightly interposing it with the Yamasenken Master's. Too late to
hold back, Ryu's right hand impacted Tetsuya's palm, and the force was
instantly reflected, sending his whole body twisting to the left.
Tetsuya then struck with his left fist, hitting Ryu clean in the
kidneys, and sending the younger fighter back stumbling back. It was to
his credit that he was even still conscious.
Tetsuya didn't bother congratulating him. He snap kicked him in the
belly, literally beating the breath out of Ryu's lungs. Following that,
a roundhouse kick opened Ryu's lower lip in a shower of red and sent him
spinning like a rag doll through the air. No sooner had Tetsuya lowered
his left leg then the sound of gunshots filled the air. Of course,
before the sound reached his ears, his hands were already a blur of
motion in front of his body, moving in response to his sakkijutu in a
fan like motion across his torso and covering his vulnerable face.
Police officers screamed in surprise and fear as their own bullets found
their mark in their comrades, or even themselves. Out of the six, all
but two fell to the ground, dead or incapacitated. Those shots not
reflected by the Hibikiken flattened against his coat. What a waste it
was for them even to be here and participating. Behind the downed
officers, the riot squad had already launched two canisters of tear gas
that arched lazily (to Tetsuya's senses, at least) through the air.
A small part of him was annoyed that they hadn't even shouted a warning
or asked for him to surrender. He supposed the poor sods had standing
orders to shoot to kill if negotiations between the two Hibikis broke
down. Their handguns were worthless against him, but the rifles that the
riot squad carried could be annoying if he was distracted, and the tear
gas would always be an irritant.
Taking a linear step, he must have seemed to teleport to the remaining
police officers. One second he was in the middle of the ruined
restaurant, and the next he was over by the parked police cars. Slipping
a foot under the nearest vehicle, Tetsuya flipped it several feet into
the air, heading towards three of the riot police who had been crouched
with their rifles, getting ready to take a shot. They turned in surprise
to see the underside of a compact car heading in their direction, and
yelled. Only one kept the wits to even try and get away, not that he was
fast enough.
A second before they would have been crushed, a massive spatula embedded
in the ground near them. The blunt end of it managed to catch one of the
more solid surfaces under the vehicle, and stop half its descent just
short of killing the men. Running up, Kounji Kazuo quickly pulled two of
the stunned officers out of danger, while the third scrambled out of the
shadow of the propped up car.
Tetsuya bared his teeth. He had been told to kill everyone present, and
that included these policemen. He was about to step in directly, when he
saw a flash of silver: it was that weak swordsman's blade. Responding to
his thoughts, a strip of cloth rose up off his shoulder to intercept the
blow. Tetsuya had fought many weapons users in the past, unfortunately,
and his Iron Killing Clothes had never failed to make short work of both
them and their tools.
It was around that thought that Kuno's sword cut clean through his
ribbon of Iron Killing Cloth. Feeling a surge of panic, Tetsuya pivoted,
and jumped back. A rip in his coat formed midway between his shoulder
and elbow, on his left arm. Less than a second later, the cloth there
began to stain red. Tetsuya could barely believe it. This... boy had cut
him.
He hadn't been cut in... in... decades!
"Behold, my Tenrai Hououkendo!" The swordsman boldly announced, holding
his sword before him. "I am Tatewaki Kuno, Rising Star and Proud Blue
Thunder of UNETCO! I hereby challenge..."
Tetsuya snarled while the boy ranted, and shot a ribbon of cloth out to
his right, spearing another car like a piece of meat in a shish kabob.
Amazingly, the ribbon lifted the vehicle clean into the air, and a
second later, introduced it to Kuno's face. The Blue Thunder skidded
across the street, and Tetsuya ran in his direction, aiming to bring the
grill of the car down on his prone form. Before he could, however, three
vacuum blades hit the Toyota, and it subsequently went up like a
fireball.
That wasn't his only problem, either, as Ryouga lunged with his own Iron
Cloth sword. The lost boy kept his strikes fast, but not with a great
deal of force, making a response with the Hibikiken less attractive.
Tetsuya dodged a slash aimed for his eyes, and responded by releasing
two ribbons of cloth from his coat. He was wary of attacking with too
many, because they were both his offense (in ribbon form) and defense
(when wrapped around his body). Ryouga was no pure swordsman, however,
and Tetsuya had to intercept a kick to his upper leg, and spin into an
attempted backhand. The lost boy stepped out of range of the blow, and
tried to grab his father's wrist.
"Dokuja Tanketsu Sho!" Ryu jumped into the fray, leading with a flat
palmed spear strike. Tetsuya turned, and deflected the powerful blow to
his back, taking advantage of the instantly stiffening properties of his
Zantetsuiichou. Still, he'd felt it, which meant it must've been a very
potent strike under normal conditions. If Ryu tried it again, he'd be
sure to reflect it with the Echoing Fist.
The distraction, however, allowed Ryouga to move in and slide his left
arm in and behind Tetsuya's. With a practiced motion, the lost boy
stepped back with his left foot, the sole of his shoe smoking from
friction as it ran across the asphalt. The pivoting motion provided
ample momentum, and Tetsuya felt his left leg painfully impact Ryouga's
right one before he hit the ground. As he brought his hand up to block
the strike to his left ear, Tetsuya wondered when his son had picked up
Chinese martial arts techniques.
Still, it wasn't enough.
Before he hit the ground, he tucked in his legs, and pushed up with his
right arm, having planted his hand on the ground. Much like his son had
done in a duel with a certain pigtailed fighter, more than two years ago
- Tetsuya launched himself into the air with the strength of just one
arm. To his surprise, while Ryouga regained his footing, the Ryu boy
reached behind him and brought out some sort of weapon. It looked a
little like a gun, but surely the young man had to know that it was
pointless to use something like that against him.
Tetsuya covered his face as Ryu fired, but the bullets were all aimed
for his left shoulder. Sure enough, they hit the Iron Killing Cloth
there, but rather than flattening or deflecting like normal bullets,
they shattered. A sharp smelling mist assaulted Tetsuya's sense of taste
and burned his nose, and a second later, his eyes watered.
"Now!" Ryu yelled, but Tetsuya wasn't sure to whom.
Then bullets hit his body, and the Hibiki elder quickly caught the gist
of what sort of situation he was in. Gritting his teeth, he activated
his final layer of defense as he spun through the air. When he landed, a
shell of white covered his head and his hands. Rifle caliber bullets
slammed into him, but to no obvious effect. He staggered back a few
steps before raising his arms slightly.
"That's it," Tetsuya heard his son say. "The full Zantetsuiichou."
Behind the iron cloth armor, Tetsuya huffed. Didn't Ryouga know it was
rude to talk so blithely about another's secret techniques, at least out
loud? The full Zantetsuiichou, unlike the partial version, was really
only for emergencies. He wore an undershirt, of course, in addition to
his blue coat. This could be used to form a layer of reactive armor
around his vulnerable head and hands. The cloth could also filter his
air, and narrow slits provided adequate vision.
The only draw back... was that he couldn't use the Hibikiken like this.
"Cease fire!" Ryu yelled. He and Ryouga nodded to each other, and
charged right towards their target, the latter jumping into the air for
a flying kick, and the latter aiming low. Did they really think it
prudent to engage him in melee? He almost wanted to reprimand them.
He had just pulled the white cloth back from his right hand, to use the
Hibikiken against Ryu's flying kick, when Ryouga jabbed his hand into
the ground. A shower of debris bounced harmlessly off Tetsuya's armor,
but at the same time a cloud of dust made it all but impossible to see.
Tetsuya tried to back away and get out of the smokescreen, when the
first few blows came. He had always known that Ryouga was strong
(surviving to the prime of his life as a particularly directionless
Hibiki), but the Ryu boy was no slouch either. Behind his Iron Killing
Cloth, Tetsuya was able to shrug off most of the blows, but he could
only negate so much blunt force kinetic energy with his ki. Eventually,
he would run out, and his Zantetsuiichou would fall apart.
Suddenly, a burning sensation cut into Tetsuya's thoughts, forcing him
to yelp and wave his arms to ward off whatever attack that had been. He
caught his son ducking under a swipe, his right hand trailing red smoke.
"What the hell...?"
In a split second, the elder Hibiki condensed everything he had
experienced about the attack; including the damage it had done to the
Iron Killing Cloth around his midriff (amazing - it would have taken an
oxyacetylene blowtorch to singe him through his cloth armor). Instantly,
that information was relayed to other formerly human minds, and then
back to him. One of them was certain that it had been a derivative of
the bakusai tenketsu called the seirensho tenketsu, but none of that
family of techniques should have worked against his Iron Killing Cloth.
If it was a variant, it was a surprising and unanticipated one. Thoughts
bounced back and forth, and came to the conclusion that this was
something new.
And his orders changed.
Spreading his arms wide, Tetsuya's blue coat suddenly exploded into a
dozen strips of cloth, circling around him and then shooting out in
every direction. Ryouga and Ryu tried to dodge the attacks, but then the
former noticed one of the ribbons shooting past them and towards the
riot police and Ukyou's father. With his left hand, Ryouga grabbed that
ribbon and twisted his wrist, wrapping it securely around his hand. The
ends cut deeply into his skin, but he ignored the pain and pulled it
close, keeping it from reaching its targets.
"Ryu!" Ryouga growled, blood trailing down his arm. "Do it!"
"Kaichu Hoju Satsu!"
Even before the order was given, Ryu had been in counterattack mode,
using the Yamasenken's In-the-Pocket Round Hug Death. Ryu was strong,
physically stronger than anyone in the two Squads save Ryouga himself,
and on par with Tetsuya in that respect. Even with his arms immobilized,
the elder Hibiki had already begun to use his knees to punish Ryu's
midsection. A ribbon of cloth snaked back, coiled, and pointed right at
Ryu's face.
It was been on the verge of striking, when a checkered bandanna hit it
from the side, giving Ryu the opportunity to lean back, bridge his
spine, and perform an inverted suplex on his opponent. Tetsuya's vision
momentarily turned black, as the crown of his head became planted
several inches in the ground. Even without being able to see, however,
he could sense that his son was moving in for a follow up attack. His
legs were still free, and he kicked forward, and felt it hit Ryouga's
palm.
Launching another strike, to keep the younger Hibiki at bay, he bent his
hands inward at the wrist, and drove his palms into Ryu's lower body,
just above the pelvic bone. Ryu hissed in pain, and the second his hold
wavered given the agony he was under and the unusual position of his
body, Tetsuya broke free. Lifting his head out of the impression it had
made in the street, he kicked back and forward, splitting his legs and
hitting both boys, one in the sternum and the other in the crotch.
Flipping back onto his feet, Tetsuya smirked and craned his neck left
and right, working the kinks out of his abused skeletal system.
"Huh! You two kids sure are a lot of trouble!" Tetsuya remarked, as the
ribbons of cloth retracted... save one, which was still in Ryouga's left
hand. Still smiling, he kicked back and down, planting his foot first on
the side of Ryu's face, and then stomping down on his younger man's
chest with enough force to crack the ground beneath him. The Kumon heir
spit up blood and instinctively tried to curl into a fetal ball. Ryu
would've suffered worse in the form of another blow to the head, but
Ryouga roared and pulled his left arm back, sending his father flying
towards him.
The father and son clashed in a flurry of strikes and counterstrikes,
the latter aiming to avoid the former's palm, and a resulting Echoing
Fist, while striking at his wrists and joints. Tetsuya, on the other
hand, was free to attack with not just his fists, feet, knees and
elbows, but lancing ribbons of razor sharp cloth as well. Ryouga had
mindfully wrapped a bandanna around his right hand, and used the back of
it to deflect a bolt of cloth that would have otherwise taken out his
right eye. He then tried for a leg sweep, and switched into an inverted
scissor kick that Tetsuya easily blocked.
Ryouga has always stressed brute strength in his fighting style,
overpowering and outlasting his opponents, rather than relying on
finesse or an opening. He was a lot like his Grandfather in that
respect. Tetsuya's own style of fighting was defensive in nature, and
even at a young age, had never appealed to his son. Still, Ryouga's
strength was incredible, and his skill was top notch, though he only
bothered to block or dodge the most deadly attacks sent his way.
Tetsuya caught sight of a car behind them, and he spun around, burying a
fist in the engine and lifting it clean off the street. Swinging it at
his son like a giant fly swatter, Tetsuya's smile grew as the young man
blocked it with his left arm. Ryouga then stepped in and struck at his
father's wrist with his right hand, causing him to lose his grip.
Treating the one and a half ton vehicle like any other weapon, Ryouga
gripped the frame firmly, and leaned forward, slamming the front of it
into his father's face.
Tetsuya tasted blood in his mouth, but kept the presence of mind to lean
back and flatten his body as Ryouga spun the car through the air that he
had just occupied. He then rolled to the side and out of the way as the
four door sedan came back around, low and in the opposite direction,
scraping against the ground with a fountain of sparks and a metallic
screech.
If not hitting his opponent with such a massive makeshift weapon
frustrated the lost boy, he didn't show it, as he lifted the entire
vehicle over his head, spun it a hundred and eighty degrees, took two
steps forward, and brought it back down. The back of the car deformed
against the ground as Tetsuya again barely moved out of the way, once,
twice, and a third time. Now, finally, Ryouga began to become
frustrated, and with a savage roar he jumped into the air (with the
crumpled car still in his hands), and brought it down with all the
acceleration gravity could provide.
Tetsuya chuckled, and held out his hand.
Even something this large (so long as it hit his palm before any other
part of his body) could be reflected with the Hibikiken. For good
measure, he not only reflected the kinetic energy of the object, but
also pushed up with his own strength, magnifying it. The car crumpled,
buckled, and tore itself into pieces. The engine and most of the chassis
erupted into the air, flying twenty or even thirty feet into the sky.
What was left in Ryouga's hands, he quickly discarded as he kept flying
forward, his heel coming down in the form of a descending axe kick.
With his free left hand, Tetsuya prepared to use another Hibikiken
against the attack, when he saw Ryouga's hands fill with bandannas. No
less than four of them shot out like shuriken, forcing the elder Hibiki
to decide what he could and couldn't defeat. Still, in a game of chicken
with his son, how could he possibly back down?
He let the bandannas hit, one cutting even through the Iron Killing
Cloth of his left shoulder, and another slicing open his right cheek as
he moved his head just enough to avoid worse damage. Then Ryouga's heel
kick hit his left palm, and the lost boy went tumbling head over heels,
crashing into and through a concrete telephone pole that subsequently
demolished another store, and set another on fire due to the fallen
electrical cables.
Then, the gunfire came back, but more sporadic than he'd expected.
Raising his cloth defenses, he felt around with his ki for the two
missing riot police. He finally caught sight of them crouched on the top
of a building behind some railing. With a snarl, he stomped down on the
front of another car, using it as a bullet shield, and held out his left
arm. Most of the time his Iron Killing Cloth responded to thought, but
when he wanted that extra bit of power, he had to devote his full
concentration to it. Instantly, two long strips of blue cloth shot out,
and cut into the building a floor below the roof, destroying supports
and cutting through steel like it was warm butter.
A second later, the whole thing collapsed, taking the two would be
snipers with it.
"Vile fiend! Face the power of Tatewaki Kuno, if you dare!"
"Oh? You're still alive?" Tetsuya turned to his right, and saw the
kendoist back on his feet and brandishing his sword. Behind him, Ryu was
again up and looking to keep fighting, despite one eye being so swollen
it likely made him half blind. These boys were tenacious, that was for
sure. Still, it was nice that his son had made some friends his own age.
Like any father, he sometimes worried...
"A pleasure to meet you," he addressed the swordsman, and pointed with
his right hand. "Kuno-san."
A dozen filaments of blue cloth tore free from the arm and body of
Tetsuya's coat. Even a superb swordsman could only block so many
strikes, and if more than one attack were to land or approach at the
exact same instant of time, then one would always get through. No matter
how fast a person was, one weapon could only be in one place at one
time. Kuno seemed to realize this as well, but he nonetheless stood his
ground, ruined vehicles and burning buildings to his left and right. As
the dozen fabric spears closed in on him, he set his stance, and lowered
his blade for an upwards slash.
"Kokuzan!"
(Sky Arc Decapitation!)
With that cry, Kuno swept his sword up, and in its wake a circular
distortion in the air lingered. The ribbons that hit it either bounced
off, or where themselves cut. Seeing his technique succeed, Kuno smiled
and was on the verge of announcing to the world the proof of his
greatness, when the ground at his feet cracked open. His eyes widened as
two bands of blue shot up, wrapped around his legs, and pulled him
under.
"That takes care of that..." Tetsuya turned to Ryu. "Now for you."
"Damnit...!" Ryu spat, a wad of blood and saliva splattering on the
ground. He gathered his ki, and began to pivot. "Kumon Style! Sai Dai
Kyuu Kijin Raishu Dan!"
'First-Rate Demon God Assault Bomb?' Tetsuya wondered. The name was
nice, and so was he technique, but it was useless as well. As far as ki
based projectiles went, vacuum blades were slow - less than mach speed
even. Ryu suddenly began to spin, vacuum blades shooting off from his
legs and arms.
"Well, well, that is a lot of them!" Tetsuya marveled, but still had
little trouble blocking the first twenty blades that saturated the area
around him. They devastated everything else nearby, however, cutting
other telephone poles in half, and tearing up the street. A few others
just flew off into the distance, going wild.
Wait...
Tetsuya quickly extended a cushion of Iron Killing Cloth behind him, and
sure enough, a few seconds later, a half dozen of the vacuum blades that
had 'gone wild' came back, like boomerangs. It was a nice little trick,
and if it had gone as planned, he could have actually been hurt. Not a
bad bit of work; these kids were pretty good. Better than he was at
their age. In fact, they were better than anyone he knew, for their age.
But Ryu couldn't keep it up forever, and he began to wind down after the
boomeranging vacuum blades failed to produce any results. As he came to
a stop, breathing heavily, he fell to one knee, accumulated injuries
catching up to him. More blood pooled in his mouth, and he spat it up so
it covered his lower jaw. Tetsuya resolved himself to end the young
man's life quickly, and painlessly.
He was about to do so, when he saw someone else approaching.
"This must be that Bakusai Tenketsu training I heard about paying off,
am I right?" Tetsuya asked, facing his son who had just now returned to
the field.
"I'm going to end this, right here... right now!" Ryouga picked up his
pace, stepping now back into the street. Tetsuya just watched him. His
ki reserves were far from bottomless, but he was confident that he could
pick apart these three boys with minimal danger. They were good, yes,
but not in his league... not with the knowledge and enhancements his
Masters had rammed down his throat.
"You will?" Tetsuya asked, amiably. "How?"
Ryouga didn't answer, but he did start to collect his ki for something
big.
His father, meanwhile, cocked his head to the side. "Before you 'end
things' ... I've been told to tell you something: 'That girl... is
alive."
The lost boy's ki wavered, but quickly reformed.
"Tell them they shouldn't say the same lie twice," Ryouga replied with a
scowl.
"It isn't a lie, apparently," Tetsuya explained. "Akari is her name,
right? She's alive... in a way. Her body is gone, but her memories, her
mind, those things are still locked up safe and sound. Her experience in
breeding unusual livestock was considered worthwhile to archive. She can
be brought back, too. Put in a new body. You can be with her again."
Ryouga ground his teeth together, grief and anger molding his features.
"What... what did they do to her?"
"Well, that's a bit of a long story," Tetsuya replied with a smile. "Are
you sure you want to know, son? Lower your mental defenses. Just a
little will do; you can bring them back up whenever you want. It's a
small price to pay for peace of mind, isn't it?"
"Lieutenant!" Ryu yelled, interrupting whatever the lost boy could have,
or would have, said in response. Tetsuya looked from his son, to the
other young man, and huffed dismissively.
"Ryu!" Ryouga suddenly cried and made a quick circular motion with his
right hand.
"Right!" The Kumon heir straightened up and reached behind him. "Kinshi
Kinbakusho!"
In a split second, Tetsuya felt something thin but unexpectedly strong
pin his arms to his sides. The Gold Cord Tight Binding Soar technique
normally worked with more conventional rope, but properly treated corded
wire worked just as well. Even before the cords had fully tightened
around him, razor edged ribbons of cloth were already cutting him loose.
It was then that Ryouga announced his technique.
"Perfect... Shishi Hokoudan..."
Tetsuya knew the mechanics behind the technique, but still stared in
amazement to see it for himself. All the emotive energy in his son's
body rushed out in a great wave, but rather than letting it exit his
body omnidirectionally, he managed to project it upwards. There was a
blast of heavy ki, too, which saturated the area and kept him further
pinned down. Nearby metal parking meters distorted from the crushing
force of Ryouga's depressive ki, and the ground began to crack from the
pressure.
Then, when the last of his emotional energy left his body, leaving him
completely empty, he dumped it all upwards, into the sky. It took a full
second, a very long time as far as most ki attacks go, for the energy to
accumulate into a ball, a thousand feet in the air. It hung there for
another full second, like a green and black moon, eclipsing the sun and
a swath of the mid day sky. Then, in the third second, it began to
distort, turning from spherical to an oval to oblong, and then it fell
like the wrath of God. Tetsuya, his arms pinned and unable to move,
looked up and opened his mouth.
His hands weren't the only place he could form an Echoing Fist.
As the Perfect shishi hokoudan accelerated towards the Earth, it seemed
to stop just a handful of feet from the ground. The sudden halt in
momentum released a rush of hurricane force wind that knocked men off
their feet and tore the doors off the front of nearby buildings. In the
center of it all, Hibiki Tetsuya stood, and as his voice changed from a
low tenor to an echoing base, the massive ball of ki launched skywards,
twice as high as before.
And then the cords around his arms broke, and he lifted his arms
triumphantly.
Facing his shocked son, he casually remarked, "I'm being told that your
shishi hokoudan grows more destructive the higher it falls from. I'd say
it's about a half a mile up there, right now. What do you suppose Osaka
will look like after that comes back down?"
Father and son glared at one another, and Ryouga lifted his hand to the
sky.
Closing his fist, his reply was simply:
"Shishi Hokoudan: Fukahi Soutou."
(Lion Roar Shot: Unavoidable Annihilation)
And, four thousand feet in the air, a single meteor sized ball of ki
shattered like an exploding star. The sky lit up with a hundred black
stars, all of which began to fall back to Earth. Protective cloth wound
down Tetsuya's arms, layering itself not just once, but twice. He
started to back off, to get moving, when the first ten stars converged
on his position, punching craters or holes into the ground. He tried to
dodge, as twenty came in the next wave, destroying everything around
him, and batting him around like a puppet with its strings cut.
The barrage continued, even after that, following him as he skidded down
the street. The next wave must have been forty of the black shishi
hokoudans, because it seemed almost as if the weight of the world had
fallen down on him, and the building behind him disappeared beneath a
shockwave of splinters and smashed masonry. For the first time in recent
memory, he blacked out, despite the near absolute defense of his Iron
Killing Cloth armor.
The Voice, however, would not let him rest.
His eyes opened, and he pulled himself out of the rubble that entombed
him. His armor still held, but... but it was at the breaking point. As
he struggled to orient himself, a fist like a runaway train slammed into
his lower jaw. The force spun him around almost completely, and flecks
of white Iron Killing Cloth began to flake away, revealing his jaw line.
Another blow buried into his lower torso, and then what must've been a
knee hit his other side twice. He tried to raise an arm, but he was just
a moment too slow, and another blow to the other side of his face left
him seeing stars.
More and more bits of overstressed Iron Killing Cloth wafted through the
air, but he wasn't finished yet. He saw Ryouga, and he blocked the next
blow, responding with an open palm strike to his son's nose. The lost
boy had left himself exposed, and had been made to pay for it. The
younger Hibiki staggered back as blood filled his vision. Tetsuya tried
to summon the energy to form a ribbon of killing cloth, but in his
beaten state, all it did was break away from his coat and disintegrate.
The two watched each other, caught their breaths, and then stepped
forward to continue the fight.
The last of Tetsuya's facial armor broke away as his son landed a hammer
blow behind his right ear. A retaliatory strike to Ryouga's left side
further broke a rib, eliciting a howl of pain. Regarding his son, his
opponent, Tetsuya managed a weak smile.
"You've gotten pretty good, son..." he managed to say between breaths.
"Your grandfather would be proud of you. You've surpassed the old me...
the real me."
Ryouga snorted blood out of his broken nose, a disgusting sound that at
least kept it from flowing down his throat. Without concern, he spat a
bloody wad of the stuff to the side.
"I don't care what the dead think," he snarled, working himself into a
deeper frenzy that would keep his body from giving out entirely. It was
hardly a secret that Ryouga Hibiki ran on rage and desperation, and when
those things failed him, his drive rapidly transformed into indecision.
Now, here, his eyes were bright, shining with an inner hate filled fire
that Tetsuya had seen only a few times before. They were both possessed,
in their own ways.
It was just a relief that Mitsuko wasn't here to see this.
"Revenge," the son hissed. "I can live on just that much. Even if I
become a monster. Even if I throw everything else away!"
Tetsuya nodded. "I understand. You've always been that way. You take
after your grandfather, and I've come to accept that. You're too old for
me to lecture you. However..."
In his mind's eye, Tetsuya saw his son as a boy, his fists bloody.
"Sometimes it's so hard to hold back..." his son had all but cried, all
those years ago. "When will I be able to use my full strength, father?"
"Only you can determine when the time is right, Ryouga," he had
explained patiently to the hot headed young boy. "Remember: martial arts
is the expression of one's virtues, it is not a virtue in and of itself.
What are you fighting for? Is it worth hurting others for? Is it worth
dying for? Is it worth killing for? Answer that, and you'll know how to
apply all you've learned."
"However," he said, back in the present, just as he had then. "I would
prefer you don't do anything that makes your mother cry."
Ryouga swayed slightly at that, remembering those words. Tetsuya could
see the change in his eyes. The younger Hibiki's mouth moved almost
imperceptibly, though whether uttering a silent curse, or an expression
of regret, his father couldn't tell.
"What you said about her..." Ryouga finally said, and his voice little
more than a whisper. "I want... I want to... to know why. Why didn't
they do to me what they did to you?"
Tetsuya knew, and the Voice didn't tell him to keep quiet about it, so
he spoke freely.
"They are not all knowing," he tried to explain, as a father often did,
and in some way put his son's mind at ease. "Your memories gave them a
vague idea what to look for, but not many details. They wanted to be
sure. They didn't want to take chances. The chance that one of the
others could determine that something had invaded your mind, and in that
way to put them on guard to the nature of the threat, was too much of a
risk. It also seemed, at the time, that there was nothing to get from
you that they couldn't get from the others. They were wrong on both
accounts, in retrospect."
Ryouga briefly closed his eyes, and the expression he wore made
Tetsuya's still human heart break. Tragedy and misfortune often went
hand in hand with the Hibiki name, and the Hibiki curse, but grief was
not something he was accustomed to seeing on his son's face. The father
looked to his left, hearing approaching footsteps, and saw one of
Ryouga's teammates picking through the debris and rubble - it was the
sword wielding boy, and the third member of their squad was right behind
him.
"I... miss Akari so much," Ryouga spoke up, and in his hands, Tetsuya
saw a stun rod, cracking with electrical fire. "Father, I want those
things in your head to hear me when I say this: Akari Unryu, the woman I
loved, is dead. I don't care what they did with her body, what they did
with her memories. I don't care if they can bring her back. She's dead.
And I'll raise a mountain of corpses in hell to atone for letting that
happen."
"What the wanderer says echoes the sentiment in all our hearts," Kuno
added in, planting his sword in the ground and taking out a small stun
baton of his own. "These creatures are to be brought to justice. I,
Tatewaki Kuno, will not willingly keep company with cowards or those who
would put aside righteous duty for pleasure, even that of reunited
love."
Ryu just snapped his hand out, another stun rod at the ready.
Inside Tetsuya's head, the Voice was disappointed. It wanted to know if
he could escape. He could try, his mind responded without prompting to
the alien query, but it was unlikely. He let out a deep breath, and
looked up at the dispassionate sky.
"Mitsuko..." he whispered, and then India Squad was around him, and for
once, even the Voice had nothing more to say. There was sharp, biting
pain, and then silence.
-----
Miles away, riding in a train, Cologne finished washing her hands and
walked out of the bathroom, smiling cordially to the woman who had been
waiting outside the door for her turn to use the facilities. Her new
acquaintances had been a little too thorough in giving her a new, vital
young body. A "monthly appointment" was not something she had altogether
missed over the last sixty odd years.
Still, it was only momentary, they assured her. In time, she and the
other chosen few, like Trenchard himself, would be elevated above the
inhabitants of this backwater farm world. Human beings were not like
Mutons, Floaters, or the other lesser races. A select few were capable
of so much more, and she was foremost among that tiny and select group.
In a cosmic or even simply stellar perspective, loyalty to anything but
the quality of the mind was so... so embarrassingly bucolic and
anachronistic.
Her companion was still in the same position in which she had left him:
sitting with his legs crossed (in a "manly" fashion, her old amazon mind
noted, with legs crossing perpendicular), and reading the day's issue of
the Tokyo Tribune. He was perfectly relaxed, even though the Society of
Sirius had suggested they avoid public transportation. Things would only
get more troublesome now. Their "new faces" wouldn't be quite so new and
inconspicuous once UNETCO got accurate pictures of them out to local
authorities.
"Looks like Hibiki-san's been taken alive," the man noted, almost as if
he had read that fact in the paper he was holding. "'I don't care if
they can bring her back?' What a hard headed student that boy must have
been."
"They both were," Cologne said, and retrieved a cell phone from the
pocket of her western business style pants before sitting down next to
the man. The phone wasn't to make a call, but to check the time. "But
that's also the quality that sets them apart from all the other
youngsters I've dealt with over the last fifty years. This ploy didn't
work, but I don't think we have to give up yet."
"That really isn't up to us, is it?" the man asked with a shrug. "It
would be wasteful to lose them, but losing more of our fellows to them
is equally inefficient. Ah, see? You hear that? Looks like after we deal
with Happosai, we're going to be recalled."
Cologne just shook her head sadly, and put the phone away.
They had talked about it, and the Mind had intervened. Now there was
nothing more that could be done about it. Cologne wasn't so much broken
up about the Tendo clan - as far as she knew, none of them were worthy
of enlightenment, plus they had been a pain in the ass in the past - but
her great granddaughter was a possibility, and her son-in-law, Mousse,
Ryouga could all make excellent Trenchards. They were good boys, even
that troublesome Mousse, and their addition was worth a few risks.
Perhaps they would listen to her in person, and see the greatness that
could be in their future, and the truth of their extra-terrestrial
benefactors? Some company would be nice amongst a sea of stars.
Otherwise, they would all die beneath the smoking ruins of Seiran
Mountain.
And wouldn't that be a pity?
-----
"What are these things made of?!" Hibiki Mitsuko cried; struggling to
get out of the chains she'd been wrapped up in quite thoroughly.
"There's no give to them at all!"
Mousse landed nearby, looking more aggravated than physically exhausted.
"That is sort of the point," he deadpanned, standing up and adjusting
his glasses. "You're not supposed to be able to just break out of chains
with brute strength."
"That's true," Mitsuko admitted. "But these things are flimsy! Can't be
more than a couple centimeters thick."
"Now, maybe... finally... you'll listen to me." Mousse pivoted to the
side as a brick flew past him, missing by inches. Followed by another.
And another. And two more.
"STOP IT!" he yelled, snatching one of the bricks out of the air.
Mistsuko paused, the dainty toes of her left foot gripping another brick
that had been torn out of its place in a broken wall nearby and about to
toss it. For a second, neither of them moved, and then Mousse had to bat
another brick thrown at his face out of the air.
Mistsuko laughed sharply. "Don't underestimate me just because I'm tied
up and I can't use my arms!"
"I'm not," Mousse interrupted.
"Oh," she said back. For a few seconds, neither thought of anything to
say.
"Look," Mousse finally got back on topic. "I really do work with your
son, with Ryouga. We're friends even. Mostly. I'm pretty sure we're
friends."
Mitsuko stared at him intently.
"I don't know..." she ventured. "You don't look like that Saotome boy."
"I'm not that Saotome boy!" Mousse replied, (ironically) insulted by
being mistaken for someone else.
"You're Watanabe Tobi?"
"Yes! No!" Mousse shook his head in frustration. "That's just the name
on my badge!"
Mitsuko raised a delicate eyebrow.
"I told you that was my name expecting you'd cooperate. My real name is
Mu Tzu," Mousse explained, crossing his arms and hiding his hands in his
sleeves. "Sound familiar?"
Ryouga's mother blinked.
"No," she answered, much to his chagrin. "And what kind of name is
'Mousse' anyway?! Why is your name a hair product?"
Mousse didn't really have a good answer to that, so he had to settle
for:
"Just because...and its Mu Tzu, not 'mousse!'"
Mrs. Hibiki, despite being tied up in chains that could probably derail
a train before they break, didn't seem particularly worried about her
situation. Adopting the sort of tone one uses to address a child caught
in the telling of an obvious falsehood, she put his claim to the
ultimate test.
"If you were really my son's friend, you'd know what his favorite color
is!" she declared confidently. "So what is it, hmmm?"
"Like I'd know what his favorite color is!" Mousse grumbled, rolling his
eyes. "What kind of question is that? Do you know what his favorite
color is?"
Mitsuko thought about it for a second.
"Yellow?" she wondered aloud. "Black? Yellow and black!"
"How could you not know, and expect me to? Are you really his mother?"
Mousse remarked, just loud enough for her to hear. She frowned at that,
and after a few silent seconds, he could tell that, for the first time,
he'd made her angry. It wasn't the kind of pound-you-into-the-ground
angry he was used to either, from the typical troupe of over-violent
Nerima girls or the Amazon crowd. Hell, that sort of response would have
suited what he'd thought Ryouga's mother to be like. After all, the lost
boy's temper was like a supervolcano about to explode.
Instead, Mrs. Hibiki just quietly turned away to look out over the roof.
"What do you want from me, anyway?" she asked, her tone of voice no
longer as light and amicable as it had been before. Mousse sighed; it
seemed he'd picked up some of Ranma's foot-in-mouth disease.
"You and your husband need to be taken into protective custody. There is
reason to believe you're in danger otherwise. Your son, Ryouga, sent me
personally to get you, and he'll explain everything in more detail once
we're somewhere secure," Mousse said, watching her carefully in case she
tried to jump to another rooftop. When she didn't reply, he continued,
"Are you going to come with me, Hibiki-san, or are we going to keep
fighting?"
He watched as she struggled a bit more, almost half-heartedly, knowing
full well that she wouldn't be able to break free. Even Ryouga couldn't,
not from those chains, made as they were of alien alloys. Physically
stressing them into failure was all but impossible, and even the
breaking point didn't work on the exotic metal.
Then, in the distance, a black and green pillar of ki instantly seized
both martial artists' sakkijutsu. Like all ki, it had a distinctive
flavor and feel to it, even from far away, which both recognized
instantly. Mitsuko tensed, as if to try and run in that direction, but
then seemed to think better of it. Mousse was thankful for that. Chasing
a Hibiki around town was something he'd hoped to avoid, and she seemed
to realize she'd probably get lost on the way there.
"Alright," she relented, finally. "Let's see what trouble we're in now."
.
.
.
The Road to Cydonia
Special Reader Database Entry: "Know Your Enemy!"
The group of aliens often referred to as "The Visitors" are comprised of
numerous species. While many of these individual species are specialized
towards certain missions and objectives, they are not married to them,
and so any alien can be found performing any role, though some excel at
certain duties more than others. How the aliens interact across species
lines is not well understood, however their society seems to be both
strictly structured in its hierarchy, and devoid of conflict. While the
aliens are all individuals, they are all directly or indirectly part of
a communal Groupthink or higher consciousness, which is either a
function of their desires as a whole, or is a part of a separate
intelligence that motivates and coordinates their activities.
The five primary alien species are:
Sectoids, Floaters, Snakemen, Mutons and Ethereals
Beneath them are the non-sentient or servant races:
Chryssalids, Reapers, Celatids, and Silacoids
And lastly, two weapons platforms/constructs:
Cyberdisks and Sectopods
For now, let's look at the four primary alien species!
Species: Sectoid
Function: Research & Exploration
Reproduction: Artificial
Average Height: 3 - 4 feet
Average Weight: 60 lbs Average
Psi-strength: Class 8 [Baseline Human = 5]
Average Intelligence: Class 8 [Baseline Human = 5]
Average Life Span: 180 years
Overview:
Commonly referred to as "Grays," Sectoids were the first alien race
encountered, and remain the most common. They operate according to a
strict hierarchy determined by psionic power, and while their society
has been described as "hive like" the analogy is not entirely
appropriate. No natural reproduction occurs at all among the Sectoid
race, they have no Queen or anything of the sort. Sectoids instead focus
their energies on "improved replications" and gradual improvements on
each cloned generation.
They specialize in the more sophisticated research-based abduction of
human beings and mutilation of cattle, but are quite capable in combat
as well. Soldier class Sectoids are far more aggressive than their
higher ranked cousins, which prefer to lie in wait or psionically attack
from a distance. Sectoids are not physically strong or hardy, and while
their excellent eyesight and steady aim make them deadly snipers, they
fare poorly in close combat or intense firefights as their stamina and
endurance are poor.
Physiology:
Sectoid physiology is remarkably simple compared to that or naturally
evolved creatures. The digestive system is largely vestigial, and
capable of only digesting a special liquid soup of specific proteins and
nutrients. Some Sectoids have internal fluid-filled membranes that allow
them to function in an airless environment; however, on Earth, they
breathe oxygen normally. The structure of the lungs, along with the
webbed flat feet and hands suggest aquatic origins. There are no
reproductive organs. The brain and eyes are very well developed,
including natural ampullae psionic and corona lucis attached to the
spinocerebellum and cerebrocerebellum respectively. The small mouth and
nose are non-functional, and there is little to no sense of smell.
There is little physical or cosmetic variation between different
Sectoids, but human-Sectoids hybrids are known to exist in several
forms. Some are engineered to be almost entirely human in appearance,
and have been used to infiltrate human societies and organizations. Most
are the result of alien research and are visibly more alien than human.
It is believed that a very small percentage of the human population has
some Sectoid-derived or inserted DNA in them as a result of decades of
alien experimentation.
Misc:
Despite a near non-existent sense of taste, Sectoids seem to enjoy
creamed corn and have been observed trying to eat corn on the cob,
usually unsuccessfully. Due to the surprisingly primitive Sectoid
nervous system, their sense of pain is more similar to that of a fish
than a human. Like most aliens, Sectoids have excellent night vision.
They are just barely able to "see" into the Near Infrared region of the
electromagnetic spectrum, but are near color blind when it comes to the
blue to purple region. Virtually all Sectoids seem to be addicted to
psionic stimulation of the pleasure centers of their brains.
Species: Floater
Function: Exploration & Harvesting
Reproduction: Sexual/Artificial
Average Height: 5 - 6 feet
Average Weight: 180 lbs
Average Psi-strength: Class 3 [Baseline Human = 5]
Average Intelligence: Class 4 [Baseline Human = 5]
Average Life Span: 50 years
Overview:
The second alien race encountered by XCOM, Floaters appear to be the
scouts and workers of the alien invasion. The vast majority seem to be
clones, but there are at least a few distinct "races" within the Floater
community with cosmetic and functional differences. Floaters, like
Mutons, are naturally sexually reproductive creatures, but lose that
ability due to surgery. Floaters organize themselves to conform to the
overall alien hierarchy, with each Floater being "tailored" for a
general task, like navigator or medic or Commander. They then hold this
post for life. Floaters do the bidding of more powerful and influential
aliens like Sectoids and Ethereals.
Floaters are most commonly encountered during the more routine sorts of
abduction or harvesting missions, where the goal is specimen collection
and harvesting rather than delicate experimentation. If the Sectoids are
researchers, the Floaters are butchers. They are also often used for the
construction of alien bases, for supplying those bases, and (earlier in
the war) as Terror agents. They have no psionic ability and weak psi
strength in general, but are physically robust and can survive unaided
on Earth indefinitely (most aliens can only survive breathing Earth's
atmosphere for a few days).
Physiology:
Floaters are humanoid in appearance, and are believed to have evolved
from amphibian-like creatures. Their skin, almost always a shade of
purple in color, is highly porous and constantly covered in a mucus-like
secretion that serves to isolate it from the outside atmosphere, defeat
'alien' (in this case Earthly) bacteria and other foreign life forms,
and that quickly covers and seals wounds. There is evidence of genetic
engineering regarding their muscular and skeletal systems, and the lungs
are very well developed. The unblinking eyes are similar to those of a
cat; the rod photoreceptors are saturated with metarhodopsin, giving
Floaters effective nightvision capability.
The brain is not as large as our own, and while Floaters can see very
well, their hearing is poor, as is their sense of touch. The jaw, lined
by sharp teeth, is functional. Internally, Floaters are most notably
characterized by a single large cybernetic enhancement made to their
bodies. All active duty Floaters have a large implant replacing their
lower body and part of their torso, which (aside from providing flight
through anti-gravity technology) takes over the functions of the heart,
lungs, renal, exocrine, endocrine and digestive systems. All of these
organs are generally removed (only the lungs are left on occasion,
probably as a backup in case of system failure). This life support
system allows the Floater to survive in very hostile environments.
Misc:
Despite a naturally predatory nature, Floaters are not naturally
accustomed to or comfortable with flight or open spaces, and these
conditions usually make them cautious. In doors, they are more
aggressive and prone to pursuit. Floaters often display a pronounced
dislike of human beings, and seem to revel in acts of cruelty and
viciousness when given the opportunity. Floaters typically ingest the
same liquid soup as the Sectoids, but can eat normal foodstuffs in
captivity (showing a marked preference for small saltwater fish).
Species: Snakemen
Function: Military & Terrorist
Reproduction: Asexual
Average Height: 6 feet
Average Weight: 230 lbs
Average Psi-strength: Class 4 [Baseline Human = 5]
Average Intelligence: Class 5 [Baseline Human = 5]
Average Life Span: 80 years
Overview:
Snakemen are notorious as Terror agents, primarily due to their
partnership with the parasitic Chryssalid organism. Snakemen have
undergone far less genetic modification than Floaters or Sectoids, and
even retain their original reproductive system. Snakemen are organized
into a rigid military hierarchy, but interrogations have revealed that
(unlike with most other aliens), individual Snakemen can advance in rank
through distinction and effort. Most command rank Snakemen are much
older than those of soldier rank. "Officers" among the Snakemen seem to
value the lives of themselves and their subordinates more than most
aliens, and will fall back if they take heavy casualties or deem an
attack to be unfavorably risky. They have been seen rallying their
comrades and even going out of their way to protect Snakeman Navigators
and Engineers.
They specialize in military style operations and incursions of all
types. Reports of Snakemen involved in abduction or harvesting
operations are essentially unknown. They frequently man important alien
bases, and are the backbone of most modern terror ops. Snakeman behavior
is difficult to generalize, as it varies depending on the commanding
officer. Snakemen of Command rank answer directly to the Ethereals, and
there is some speculation that they may be "mercenaries" of a sort. They
do not have psionic attack abilities, but they do have some natural and
artificial psi defenses, including a cybernetic version of the corona
lucis. They are the only aliens to protect themselves with personal
armor.
Physiology:
Snakemen seem to have evolved in a very hostile environment - perhaps a
desert planet. Their body is designed to survive extreme temperature
variation, and they are very tough and resilient, capable of surviving
extreme trauma. Immediately noticeable is the large snake-like foot or
underbelly that begins midway into the torso region (there is a small
gap in the ribs at this point). This muscular foot allows the alien to
use lateral undulation or rectilinear locomotion to propel itself in any
direction. Unusually, the muscular system in Snakemen is part of the
powerful cardio-vascular system, and uses a hydraulic principle to
create movement. The heart is the only "true" muscle.
Snakemen are rather heavy set, with strong bones and thick layers of
muscle and interlaced sinew. There are generally very few (or no)
cybernetic implants. The reproductive system is always intact and
functional, and each asexual Snakeman carries up to fifty unfertilized
eggs at a time. Reproduction takes place through parthenogenesis. Actual
embryo growth is very fast, on the order of four months from conception
to birth, after which the new Snakeman reaches sexual maturity in
roughly two years. Snakemen also seem to have the ability to start or
stop the development of embryos within them.
Misc:
Snakemen, like all aliens, seem to rely heavily on liquid "alien food"
chambers to survive, and have a marked disdain for earth based
foodstuffs. Snakeman hearing, sight, taste and touch all seem to be at
around human level, though their sense of smell is worse. Like many
earth-snakes, Snakemen have special pits that allow them to "visibly"
distinguish ambient heat sources. Snakemen communicate through a series
of hisses, clicks, and ultrasonic sounds - XCOM finished translating
around 90% of this language in 2004. Snakeman armor, worn around the
upper torso, shoulders and (occasionally) the arms is made of layered
alien alloys, and is resistant to all forms of weapons fire. In space or
other near-vacuum environments (like Mars), it is believed that Snakemen
wear respirators to survive. Snakemen have been called the "medium
infantry" of the alien incursion.
Species: Muton
Function: Military
Reproduction: Sexual/Artificial
Average Height: 6 to 7 feet
Average Weight: 380 lbs
Average Psi- strength: Class 3 [Baseline Human = 5]
Average Intelligence: Class 5 [Baseline Human = 5]
Average Life Span: 90 years
Overview:
Mutons are the Ethereals' preferred heavy assault soldiers and
enforcers. These humanoid creatures are genetically engineered and
cybernetically enhanced for a life of warfare: soldiering and piloting
for their masters. They are perpetually in the thrall of the Ethereals,
and can not survive without constant psionic contact with that terrible
race. Their organization is rigid and inflexible, with each Muton
filling out the role it is given without hesitation or uncertainty.
While they often display an ample individual understanding of tactics,
the low value their masters have of their castrated lives (and their
natural toughness) means they will often expose themselves to
unnecessary danger.
Like the Snakemen, Mutons specialize in military style operations, but
generally not Terror raids. They are tasked to guard alien bases, pilot
heavy alien craft (like essential supply ships or battleships), lead
assaults, or occasionally reinforce the ranks of weaker alien races.
Their lack of interest in Terror Missions is highlighted by their poor
compliment of "shock troops" - Celatids and Silacoids, like Reapers, are
poor performers compared to Chryssalids, Sectopods or Cyberdisks. Like
Floaters, Mutons have been sterilized by the Ethreals, but are (in a
natural state) capable of sexual reproduction. Mutons encountered by
XCOM have been exclusively male.
Physiology:
Mutons are massive creatures, towering over most all humans, and
outweighing them substantially. Their bones are incredibly dense, as are
their muscles, making them naturally very strong, if not particularly
fast in anything but a sprint. Their intelligence is believed to be at
human level. The senses (except touch) are all enhanced cybernetically,
providing pinpoint hearing and excellent smell. The eyes are
tetrachromatic (four dimensional color vision, extended into the UV
range) and extremely sensitive, with cybernetically added anti-
polarization abilities.
The cardiovascular system is also enhanced to provide dramatically
improved endurance. The heart is insulated against electric shock, and
the immune system is supplanted by artificial "smart prions" that ignore
native proteins but attack foreign ones, like unexpected viruses,
bacteria or even chemicals. This and other enhancements allow Mutons to
remain effective even under adverse NBC (nuclear/biological/chemical)
conditions. These also make Muton blood and flesh lethally toxic.
Lastly, and most obviously, an organic armor is grafted onto the bodies
of all Mutons. This flexible organic armor, which includes a thin alien
alloy mesh, is extremely tough and resistant to all forms of weaponry,
especially kinetic or piercing impact. Projectile weaponry is all but
useless against Mutons.
Misc:
Mutons can subsist on typical liquid alien nutrient soups for a time,
but are not designed for it, and generally must consume large quantities
of raw flesh. Mutons seem to prefer mammalian flesh, and pork in
particular. All Mutons have a sort of failsafe system, not fully
understood, that causes their nervous systems to shut down without
periodic contact with their masters, the Ethereals. This means that
captured Mutons generally die before they can be properly interrogated,
and attempts to simulate the Ethereal "reset" ability with captured
Ethereals or human Psi-ops have all failed. Because of Ethereal
manipulation, Mutons (especially the lower ranked ones) are surprisingly
compliant and non-resisting against mental attacks and psionic
domination. This is their one Achilles' Heel.
Species: Ethereal
Function: Research & Command
Reproduction: Sexual/Artificial
Average Height: 5 - 6 feet
Average Weight: 80 lbs
Average Psi-strength: Class 10 [Baseline Human = 5]
Average Intelligence: Class (?) [Baseline Human = 5]
Average Life Span: (?)
Overview:
Ethereals are the commanders, or at least overseers, of all alien
activities in the Solar System. Mysterious and powerful, they only
appear on Earth under dire circumstances or to carry out critical
missions. Like the Sectoids, their organization is a hierarchy based on
psionic power. However, unlike the Sectoids, the Ethereal hierarchy
seems to be fluid, as individuals aspire to become more influential and
powerful. All Ethereals, however, are dominant over all other races of
alien, if only by virtue of their unmatched psionic power.
The goals of the Ethereals are unclear, and it is believed they are
still subordinate to the overriding alien Groupthink or higher
intelligence that coordinates their activities. Ethereals can be
encountered performing almost any task (occasionally as an individual
overseeing lesser alien species) if it is deigned to be important to
them or their goals. Because of their mental powers, they are considered
the most dangerous of the alien species, but also the most valuable for
interrogation. Regardless, in any mission where an Ethereal is present,
it becomes the priority target by default. Typically, Ethereals prefer
to lie in wait or behind cover, using their mental powers to weaken
their foes or turn them against each other.
Physiology:
Physically, an Ethereal resembles a desiccated corpse more than a
living, breathing life form. Their bodies are frail and physically
retarded - the muscles are often atrophied to the point where they can
not move their limbs by themselves, and most of the internal organs are
withered or necrotic from disuse. The sensory organs, or what used to be
them, are likewise shriveled and no longer functional. Even the heart is
weak, and the lungs barely function. The sex organs are functional, but
minimally so, indicating that actual gestation and growth are handled
artificially.
Only the brain survives. The vast majority of blood in the body goes to
the brain, and it is large and well developed (though actually smaller,
mass-wise, and the Sectoid brain). Like the Sectoid, the Ethereal has a
naturally occurring ampullae psionic and corona lucis attached to the
spinocerebellum and cerebrocerebellum; both are large and allow the
creature access to its formidable psionic powers. It is these powers
that allow the Ethereal to survive, even in the vacuum of space, as well
as sense its environment. Ethereals are telepathically and
telekinetically powerful, to the extent that they can animate their own
frail bodies; giving themselves strength exceeding that of even the
mighty Muton, and flight through the air. These powers also provide
defense, telekinetically slowing or stopping bullets, partially
redirecting or deflecting explosions or even weakening plasma bolts.
Needless to say, physical trauma to the limbs or torso rarely bothers
Ethereals, so long as their brain remains intact.
Misc:
Ethereals do not seem to need to eat, and in captivity they are known to
uniformly refuse all attempts at providing sustenance. If kept
unconscious for long periods of time, they can "starve" to death,
implying that they use their powers in lieu of normal food. Ethereals
wear a sort of cloak over their bodies, typically some shade of orange
or rust-red, with minor cosmetic differences between individuals. The
cloak is not entirely for show, however, as it is a simplex metallic
weave that hardens on contact, providing excellent protection as well.
Ethereals have been known to use their telekinetic ability to cause
brain damage in another target, particularly during a psionic duel.
Unlike with Sectoids, all Ethereals are capable of psionic projection,
regardless of rank. Ethereals are somewhat vulnerable to electric shock.
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