Sgt. Trindell fired, his machine gun blasting out lead
rain. One gangster went down, his finger still pressing
down on the trigger. Bullets ricocheted off the dumpster in
front of Trindell.
Beside him, Officer Sergei Shadrin was firing his
lawpistol in a quick staccato. Bullets scarred the walls
behind the thugs. "Alright, this is your last chance! Put
your hands in the air and freeze!" Trindell shouted from
behind the dumpster.
"You want us, you fragger, you come get us!" One thug
flung a grenade towards the two of them. Shadrin dove to
the left, rolling clumsily, strafing the parking lot.
Trindell tried, but the grenade landed on the dumpster too
quickly. As he ran, the timer ran down from 1 second to 0,
and it detonated. Flaming pieces of the dumpster struck him
from behind, the flames from the explosion engulfing him.
Smoke rose as pieces of blasted debris rose to the air, the
warm, hot air washing over Shadrin, hitting him with the
force of a storm. He shielded his eyes from the flaming
dust, and he cried out as his flesh was stung by the roiling
heat of the explosion.
Trindell was, quite obviously, dead. The backup from
Megapol was being dogfighted in the air. Shadrin felt, not
for the first time, quite alone.
Laser shots streaked from above, scouring the asphalt.
Above them, the Megapol police cars were tailing a
Hoverbike, their lasers missing. There was another round of
high pitched sounds as a barrage of light struck the
Hoverbike, and the Osiron craft pitched wildly. It was
hopelessly and illegally overmodified, its armor plates
bulky, its weapons payload over capacity. The Hoverbike
crashed to the ground with a roar. Criminals and one
policeman scattered as the Hoverbike struck the asphalt,
exploding. The flames lit the night sky briefly, before
smoke rose from the wreckage.
"Yee-haaaa! One bogey scratched ---" The transmission
from the Megapol Hovercar was awash in static in Shadrin's
ears. A criminal vehicle had managed to unload a burst of
cannon fire at the Hovercar. Shadrin could see that an
anti-grav thruster was hit, and one corner of the Hovercar
sagged downwards. It climbed in altitude, desperately using
evasive maneuvers. The other Osiron craft raced after it,
guns blazing, as the police car's companion rushed to its
aid. Lasers and bullets rained down from above. It's
getting dangerous out here. Shadrin ran back inside Scrooge
Mansions.
Alone or not, he had better find the heroin fast.
Fourth floor was clear. Third floor was clear.
Basement was clear. That left the second and first floors.
He exited the anit-grav lift and opened the first door he
came to, his lawpistol at ready.
It was empty. He had seen lots of empty rooms, which
was strange because the slums were usually infested with the
poor of the poor. He could see loading droids, dusty and
dented, their optical sensors dead. Wait, they were not all
dusty; their arms were squeaky clean. In other words, they
wre recently used. In a flash of worry, Shadrin wondered if
the heroin had already been loaded into waiting trucks.
Getting up from in front of a droid, he started towards the
door.
His comm crackled. "This is Lt. Pearce of Narcotics.
We were able to land in the basement parking lot. Report
your status, over."
"This is Officer Shadrin, Narcotics. I'm in Level 1 of
this slum and I'm inside some sort of a storage area. There
are little clues which I think mean it just recenly held
something, the heroin probably. Over."
"Uh, right. Well, just hang in there. Me and my boys
just encountered heavy fires in this area, and we're trying
to extinguish it. We'll be there in a few minutes. Over."
"Acknowledged, Lieutenant."
Just as he opened the door, he saw well-dressed,
black-suited man starting towards the very hallway he had
come from. His eyes grew wide, and Shadrin raised his gun
and said, "Hands up. This is the police."
"You wanna play old western cowboy?" The man grinned. In
a quick movement, he pulled a pistol from his pocket.
Shadrin fired two quick shots. The bullets buried
themselves into the man's chest. He was still grinning as
he flopped down to the floor.
Suddenly, the hallway light sparked as bullets soared
above Shadrin's head. He went down on his belly, and
strafed the corridor as another suited fellow ran toward
him, his M4000 pockmarking the walls. A lucky bullet hit
Shadrin's shoulder, and his gun arm faltered. Transferring
his gun quickly to his left, he rolled sideways and fired,
his bullet breaking the man's shin. He tumbled forward, and
Shadrin fired at his big, balding head.
He rose, his shoulder throbbing. Trying to stem the
blood flow, he examined the two thugs he had just downed.
Classics from Lifetree Consumers, read the label on the back
of the suits. These things cost $600, he thought.
Underneath the suits were standard issue Megapol
bullet-resistant jackets. These guys were rich. He
advanced carefully down the hallway, his shoulder throbbing
with pain. He nearly gasped out when he tried to move his
hand. And so he continued on, wobbling unsteadily, leaving
a trail of blood behind.
He soon came to a plaza, with a fancy Hovercar sitting
smack in the middle. Beside it, an air transport, its
truck-like orange bidy badly bullet-holed, waited. Standing
around the two vehicles were a couple of loading droids,
four well-suited men, and a fat pig of a cigar-waving
gangster. And crates. Lots of them.
Ducking into the shadows, he watched. He recognized the
fat man as Antonio Minelli, suspected drug kingpin.
Imported arms-dealer from Rome, he had turned his eyes on
the profitable drug trade here in Mega-Primus. Megapol knew
he was only one of the dozens of crime lords under the
expansive arm of the mysterious leader of the gang called
Osiron. Sergei ducked into the shadows and watched.
"Come on, boys, load up! Those Megapol idiots will be
here any minute. I don't want any of that heroin getting in
their grummy little hands. There's a lot of heroin out
here, worth thousands of bucks to the right people. Come
on, ya fraggers! Load it up!" Minelli waved his cigar
impatiently.
Time to stop their little game. He radioed Pearce, and
updated the lieutenant.
"Good job," Pearce whispered. "Just wait there, the
fire's getting outta control. Over."
Wait there? Not likely. Despite his bleeding shoulder
and sore abdomen, he would bust this op once and for all.
He ran into the plaza, his gun waving. "Hands up! Put
down all your weapons! This is the police!"
Minelli cursed audibly. His henchmen immediately opened
fire. Machine gun bullets whizzed past Shadrin as he dove
for cover behind the heroin boxes. One of the men fired a
plasma shot, the green bolt sizzling the wall behind him.
Meanwhile, Minelli was panicked.
"Get this heroin outta here! Borja, let's split!"
One of the bodyguards, a known mercenary killer called
Diego Borja, ran into the Hovercar. Minelli waddled after
him. Would Shadrin ever like to plant a slug in his
oyster-filled gut. But it was too late. He had ducked into
the armor-plated Hovercar. Shadrin slammed his comm button,
hitting the police frequency.
"This is Shadrin to all Megapol vehicles. Minelli's
escaping in a Hovercar from Scrooge Mansions. Repeat,
Antonio Minelli is escaping in a Hovercar from Scrooge
Mansions."
His message was immediately relayed to every police
officer in the city.
"Hell, Shadrin, I thought I toldya to stay put!" Pearce
shouted. Shadrin cut him off.
***
As Shadrin's transmission came over the radio, the other
Megapol Hovercar that had not yet landed was busy tailing
the final Hoverbike. The car's 40mm cannon fired, then
fired again. Finally, a shell buried itself in the bike's
engine. The Hoverbike bucked, its flight halted, and that
gave enough time for the Hovercar's autopilot to lock in on
the Osiron vehicle. It fired a burst of cannon fire, and
the Hoverbike exploded.
The car's comm relayed the transmission of Shadrin as
the flaming debris of the bike crashed to the ground. Since
there was no human pilot inside the Hovercar (it had only
been sent to escort Pearce's Hovercar), the police vehicle's
autopilot immediately reversed. A Hovercar rose from an
opening in the slums ahead of it. That must be Minelli's
car.
The autopilot relayed a recorded transmission to
Minelli's car.
Minelli slurped a martini in the vehicle's wet bar. He
was nervous, but he was confident he'd get away. Always
did. Antonio Minelli was no one to fool around with.
Tapping Diego in the back, he said, "Take me to rendezvous
21. Quick."
Suddenly, there was a crackle from the comlink. "Please
halt your vehicle. This is the police. I repeat, please
halt your vehicle."
"To Hell I will!" he shouted into the comlink. With a
vicious swipe, he tried to deactivate it. A message
appeared on the holoprojector. It read, "Authorized police
transmission incoming. Comlink cannot be shut off at this
time." Minelli cursed again.
"Please halt your vehicle or I will open fire. I
repeat..."
***
Shadrin ducked behind a crate, his shoulder bleeding
profusely. He needed medical help, but there was no time to
think about that. The faintly narcotic smell of burning
heroin rose to his nostrils as a plasma bolt hit the crate.
He quickly rose from his crouching position and fired. He
missed, all his shots going wide. He could never last three
heavily-armed gangsters unless...
He smiled. Reaching to his backpack, he removed the
Mindbender.
Rising quickly from his crouch, he pressed the switch
and aimed the device at one gangster.
Despite the throbbing in his wound, he reached out
across the plaza with his mind. Touching the gangster's
mind, he took a deep breath and dove through the man's
consciousness. He felt like he was slogging through mud as
the fatigue and pain of his mission took a toll on his
psychic powers. Sergei reached in, deep, groping with his
sixth sense, until he found the man's subconscious. He was
trying a desperate ploy with this one, but it had to work.
He shouted mentally, Follow me! Follow everything I
say!
The man's conscious thought was unaware of it, but
Shadrin could feel his subconscious struggling. He felt his
mental grip on the man letting go. Reaching in desperately,
he shouted again.
This time, the man yielded. I will do as you command.
That's a good boy. Just point your gun at your
compatriots over there and open fire. Shoot to kill.
One of the other gangsters noticed that his companion's
eyes were glassy, his expression vacant. "You okay, man?"
The man turned toward him... and fired. The burst
caught the other right in the chest. He tumbled down
without a sound.
The last gangster cursed, then squeezed the trigger of
his plasma pistol. Shadrin's victim ducked, then fired off
another round. His bullets went wide as the other gangster
ran in the other direction. He suddenly stopped, dropped to
his knee and fired another plasma bolt. This time, the
blast caught the man right in the face. He fell, his
machine gun clanking dully against the asphalt.
That gave Shadrin the distraction he needed. Jumping on
top of the crate, he kneeled and fired. Despite the pain in
his right arm, his left was surprisingly steady. Four shots
volleyed their way to the man, burying themselves in the
head and chest.
Shadrin watched grimly as he died.
Well, the heroin was Megapol's now. The op was
completed. He started reaching for his comm to report his
victory when he saw sudden movement in the shadows near the
transport. It was too fast to be a loading droid. He moved
cautiously towards the transport, not only because of his
shoulder, but something about that shadow seemed... weird.
"This is the police. Come out with your hands in the
air."
Suddenly, Shadrin heard it. A deep, throaty growl that
seemed infinitely menacing. His eyes widened in disbelief.
All at once, the air around him exploded with the sound of
roar.
Definitely not human.
He swung his gun around. His eyes caught a flash of
blue running toward the crates. He ran after it, his arm
dripping blood. As he cleared the corner of the truck, his
eyes widened as he saw a blue, humanoid scaly creature
running quickly across the plaza. He almost laughed out in
amazement as he saw its pincer-like hands clutching a black
weapon of some sort. A gun.
He fired, and the... thing moved again. It was fast.
His shots went wide, then he chased after it. It turned
toward him as if to fire, then reversed direction. Shadrin
quickly fired off another shot. It caught the thing in the
thigh. It jerked visibly, and Shadrin fired again.
The bullet missed. The thing didn't run, however. It
reached for its back and removed what looked like an orange
ball. It ran again, but this time more slowly as it fitted
the ball to its weapon. Uh oh. Sergei squeezed the
trigger, but then shut his eyes in pain as his wound
throbbed mightily. The bullet soared over the creature's
head.
Aiming the weapon at Sergei, the thing fired. The ball
soared across the air, but it wasn't aimed well. It landed
a few meters to Shadrin's left. Looking at it, he suddenly
saw the top pop open. Out of the pod crawled a small orange
creature. Shadrin backed away as he looked at it. It was
crab-like in appearance, with a hard carapace covering the
top of the creature's body. It had legs that were almost
disproportionate with the size of the creature's body. Its
red eyes focused on Shadrin, then it started running toward
him.
He had never seen anything run so fast in his life. In
little more than a second, the thing had crossed four
meters. Suddenly, it jumped toward Shadrin, its legs
vaulting it upward 6 meters. In a flash, he realized it was
going to land on top of him.
He swung his pistol upwards. He fired at the falling
creature, its tentacled underbelly seemingly small and
distant. He fired four times at it as it zoomed towards
him. He saw it jerk visibly at the fourth shot, and it fell
like a dead weight at Shadrin's head. He stepped backward,
and the thing flopped down to the floor. Three bullet holes
had torn at its belly, and a green liquid was seeping out
and melting the creature. The thing screamed, an ugly
high-pitched sound that bubbled in synch with the melting
body. In seemingly no time at all, it had been turned into
a soupy pulp, and only the carapace remained.
He focused his attention on the blue creature, who had
begun running again. He swung his pistol, pivoting as his
eyes followed the thing. He fired a snap shot at it, but it
rebounded off the wall beside it. In a quick movement, as
if it realized the danger it was in, it had fitted another
orange pod to its gun. Aiming quickly, it fired at Sergei.
The pod landed right in front of Shadrin. It quickly
opened up, and another orange thing crawled out of it. As
soon as its legs touched the cement, it jumped upwards,
towards a surprised Shadrin. The thing nearly missed his
face as it went up. Sergei ran forward, and then he heard a
distinct smacking sound as the thing landed behind him.
"You missed!" He aimed his gun at the orange thing, but
it quickly scuttled away towards the crates. He then turned
his gun towards the blue creature and fired. The bullet
caught the thing at its hip. Instead of firing again, it
began running. Shadrin gave chase.
Despite his wounded arm, he quickly closed the distance
between them. The thing had two wounds in its leg area, and
it was limping. At almost point blank range, he fired off
several rounds. The thing took almost all of them, but
Shadrin cursed as it still attempted to get away. He
reloaded, the old clip thudding dully in the asphalt. He
then fired off three quick shots. Two missed, but one
sailed and smacked the creature's head. It fell forward
with a throaty scream.
Shadrin stood over it, panting. His blood fell and
traced crazy patterns over the creature's corpse. Colorless
liquid seeped out of its wounds. "Whatever you are, you're
dead now."
Just then, he felt a tremendous weight hit his head,
hard. He could feel something crawling on his bald top, its
tentacles grasping and groping. He reached for it and tried
to pull it out, but it was already tightly hanging onto his
head. It crawled down to his nape area. Among its moving,
slimy tentacles he could feel a sharp object being lifted
away from his head, as if it was poised to strike down...
His head then jerked violently, then he heard the sound
of something falling to his right. Looking down, he saw the
orange creature he had fired at earlier. It had a blackened
hole at its side, and the green fluid sizzled and smoked as
the thing began screaming again.
"Nice job with that E.D."
He turned and saw a man attired in Megapol Armor. The
red and white suit was reserved only for heavy-duty Megapol
squads, like the Civil Defense Force or the Level 4
Anti-Terrorist Squad. Megapol markings emblazoned the chest
and shoulder area. In addition, he was holding a smoking
Sniper Rifle.
"Who the hell are you? And what's an E.D.?" Sergei
asked, his lip curled in contempt and astonishment.
Instead of replying, the man tapped the comlink in his
helmet. "This is Dujardin. Initiate just got two E.D.s for
me, over."
The man's faceplate opened, and he saw a young man
peering up at him. The comm crackled, and Shadrin heard the
audible reply from whoever Dujardin was contacting.
"This is command. Initiate got off two E.D.s? Boy, you
should be ashamed of yourself." Dujardin chuckled.
"Identify the species please."
Dujardin kneeled over the blue creature. "I got one
Blue and two dead crab things. Know when they're coming up
names for these guys?"
There was a pause.
"Doc Moray says negative. We only started operation
last Monday! Update on kills, Rookie."
"That's two Blues and three Crabs. Oh, yeah, one new
species."
A different voice came over the comm.
"This is Dr. Moray. New species, you say? We're
sending a Recovery Team over to you. Just hang in there,
over. And by the way, we're open to suggestions on the
names."
The original voice came in.
"Hold on, Moray. You'll get your precious specimens.
Now, Rookie, get Initiate back here. Larsen wants him
intact, so none of those initiation rites you boys were
discussing in Living Quarters last night, over."
Dujardin laughed. "Yeah, sure, but you know, we got to
have something like tha for induction into the elite
fraternity of X..."
"Enough of that, Rookie. Sling your butt back here.
Now. Handle cover-ups as planned, but leave recovery to the
team, over."
Dujardin shut off his comm. He turned to Shadrin. "All
right, uh, Officer Shadrin, please put down your weapons,
hand me your comlink and follow me, please."
Shadrin raised his gun. "I better see some
identification, Rookie."
"Don't make this difficult for all of us." With one
quick movement, Dujardin pulled a Stun Grapple from his
knee. Shadrin fired wildly, but the bullet managed to hit
Dujardin's arm... and spanged off. The bullet bounced on
the floor. Just then, he felt the grapple grip his leg with
an iron hold. He only felt the slightest of tingles before
he went down.
Dujardin stood over the unconscious officer. "Never
mess with X-COM."
***
Landers quickly pulled the white cloth over his
shoulders. Stupid Kolitov. He hated idealistic old men.
He even forced the thirteen of them to wear stupid Roman
clothes just to fit in with the party ideology.
Throwing the cloth over his left shoulder, he looped the
other end around his neck. Pulling the piece of the cloth
around his chest downward, he made it stretch all the way
towards the belly. Getting one end of the cloth, he hung it
over one arm, which had to be kept bent just for that stupid
cloth. How many times had he sat through boring sessions
with a crick in his arm just to hold up the cloth.
Looking at the mirror, he looked at himself in disgust.
He looked just like a Roman. He looked just like Kolitov.
He looked just like a stupid Senator of Mega-Primus.
And he was a senator of Mega-Primus. He and thirteen
others.
Kolitov, the acknowledged founder of Mega-Primus in
2063, had stressed the importance of the next session. The
Senate, he had said, needed to discuss the need for
amendments to the city edict of 2076 banning droids from
occupying any job except for the most menial. They would
also discuss Senate representation for the minority ethnic
groups, namely the droids and the mutants.
Frag the Mutant Alliance and the Sentient Engine
Liberation Front. He would probably yawn through the next
session.
The doorbell rang. Exiting the bathroom, he reached for
the door in the front hall. Waiting outside was a small,
black-suited man holding a datapad.
"Who are you?"
The man smiled. He looked just like a rat. "Senator
Landers. How would you like to earn a couple of dollars?"
Next issue: Be taken into a high-speed chase through the streets of
Mega-Primus as Minelli and Borja are chased by Megapol police cars. The
Initiate, Sergei Shadrin, is about to step into new shoes... but will he
accept it?
And finally, who is this Landers fellow, and what's his deal with the
events going
on in Mega-Primus?
Lio Mangubat
X-COM (and XCOM) are trademarks of MicroProse Software. Get yourself a copy!
X-COM: UFO Defence is copyright 1996 by Microprose Software, Inc. All rights reserved.
X-COM is based on characters and design by Mythos Games.