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UFO 30 - Kazakhstan

Waddle Dee operating the tank

Otto Zander, Roar, Heinrich von Paxicon, Kulex, Some Internet Guy, Ceciltron, Vlad Antlerkov, Andrew Jackson, Diamato, Garfield - Der Film attending

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Casualty: Kulex

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UFO 31 - Sudan Waddle Dee operating the tank Otto Zander, Roar, Heinrich von Paxicon, Some Internet Guy, Rookie Chaos, Ceciltron, Vlad Antlerkov, Andrew Jackson, Diamato, Garfield - Der Film attending

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Casualties: Vlad Antlerkov Garfield - Der Film Injured Reserve: Roar Heinrich von Paxicon

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UFO 35 - Turkey (shoot) Otto Zander, Some Internet Guy, Sergeant Chaos, Ceciltron, Daviel, OatmealRasin Andrew Jackson, Diamato, Ryo, Matthew Lacroix attending

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Casualties: HOLY SHIT NO ONE FOR ONCE

Dexanth posted:

Diary of L. Takakumi, 4/21

I think Dommy's death is hitting me a lot harder than I'd expected. I mean...I, I knew I'd feel down, but...

I want to say he's still in there, but I really have no idea how to go about actual communication. If awake, well...it'd be hell. I rarely give up on things, but without my normal resources, I just don't have the capacity to save him.

So a few weeks ago, I borrowed a plasma rifle, and put him at peace. I've been telling people that the reason I haven't been in the lab is my grief, and I know that's why the pace of research has slowed to a crawl, and it must be.

I've just felt horrible the last week. I think I have the flu or something cause I can barely keep anything down, but I don't want anyone knowing I'm sick. There'd just be an endless rain of admirers and other undesirable stuff, and Ms. Cuddles keeps me comforted.

And, I have to admit, other than when my stomach is trying to eject itself yet again, there is something enjoyable about finally relaxing. I can't really remember the last time I did this, it's always been 'research this' or 'science that'.

But, these last few weeks, there's been no urge. There's been that light tickle in my mind, and of course this flu, but inventions? I don't know, it feels like we have most of what we need - There's some sort of alien bomb launcher, and I have sent down a few ideas for potential hybrid UFO design, but I don't have the energy to see them through. Someone else will have to deal with it, for now.

This should clear up in a few days. It must. And then, back to work. Why does that idea suddenly sound so unattractive?
End log

Some Cool Guy posted:

4/10/99

This is the Journal of Matthew Lacroix...Sr, apparently. If you're reading this...well, enjoy. I'm not writing about any private stuff that could be used to make me a laughingstock, like my irrational and quite possibly self-destructive attraction to evil women.


Wait.


Shit.


Maybe I shouldn't have used a Sharpie for this.

Anyways, it's been one hell of a weird 6 months. Finally get done with Police Academy, and my first day on the job, I'm assigned to help keep the public away from a meteor crash site.

December 29th...

Of course, now I know it probably wasn't a meteor.

And just as I finally moved into my own place and started my adult life, I get a letter from some lady I've never seen before in my life, saying she had a baby, and that she named him after his father. Three guesses who, first two don't count.

So, I did the only thing a sensible, honest gentleman could do. I ran like hell.

After a few weeks of living like a nomad, I heard from two acquaintances, will go by the initials SNG and SIG (because I cannot for the life of me remember their real names), told me about this secret military program that was desperate for employees. I signed up with those two (not even bothering to question how they were asked to join a secret military organization), thinking my Criminal Justice degree would fetch me a nice desk job. Even secret organizations have paperwork, right?

Next thing I know, I'm being trained in the use of alien blaster rifles and instructed on how to exit dropships without getting shot. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.


Story of my life.


4/15/99

Now that I think about it, I do remember that woman. She was a major hippie, wore beads, did experimental drugs, all that crap. Had one of those goofy 70's names, Moonflower or something. But there's no way I ever had sex with her. Hell, I didn't even know her well enough to remember her name. But she wrote in her letter that she got pregnant just after we stopped seeing each other.

She also mentioned some really crazy sounding stuff, like seeing some weird lights in the sky the night I left her, and having terrible nightmares. Maybe I'll try and look her up when this is all over, see if she's OK.

4/22/99

Great, my first real mission, and I get stuck on guard duty with the tinfoil hat.

Though I have to admit, if what Ryo said about the greys is true...maybe they really are trying to come in peace. Just like that Outer Limits episode with those aliens that looked like the Zora. I guess we'll find out. I'm on Stun Launcher duty, so it's only a matter of time before we get one of these things back to base in good enough shape to talk to us without breaking out the Ouija Board.

Of course, any of the other freaks I see are getting shot right between the eyes. Two shots if they have more than one set. I've seen the tapes of those Snake Men. I'm gonna get a frickin' sweet new coat off of one of those things.

Which reminds me, I need to requisition a decent sidearm. I thought I overheard something in one of the labs about a new weapon they were developing, some kind of Plasma Pistol. That sounds like it could rock some shit.

--------



 Trial By Fire is thae name of "that Outer Limits episode", for those interested. It's actually a decent little piece of Sci-Fi, much like the entire Outer Limits series, except for the glorified clipshows. Hell, one episode has Dennis Haysbert AND Michael Ironside. It doesn't get much more awesome than that. 

Allen Wren posted:

From the desk of Pvt. (???) A. Wren, cleaning closet three, subsection sixteen, section two, X-COM.

Scratch that heading.

From the desk of A. Wren, KING OF BULLSHIT TOWN.

That's a bit more like it.

So, I'm just doin' my job, pushing that mop on the most recent mess in the labs, and I lean against the wall, take a three-second break. Well, looks like I'm the moron for not expecting to get TASERED INTO GODDAMN SUBMISSION for leaning against the door to the Doc's back room. My hair still smells like burning. This is so far gone on the bullshit meter that I can't even begin to comprehend it. Tempted to complain, but...

...bloody hell. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I like it here. My boss is crazy, but she's usually funny and seriously easy on the eyes, I'm hanging out with all sorts of mad bastards on my shifts off...I just feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something's not right.

Anyway, lately it's been reeeeeal quiet. As far as I can tell, we're finally starting to stand toe-to-toe with those alien fucks, so maybe we won't lose quite so many guys. But all the same, there's not much going on in the base. Yo no se.

So apparently, that grunt the doc was seeing did bite it. Me and my big mouth. She's been locking herself in the back room a lot, and when she's out, working on (what I assume are) the standard X-Com experiments, she's real distracted. Even the cat's not keeping her happy. Is there a library on this base? I wonder if they've got one of those books about making your workplace better and happier. Could use an extra dash of good karma, these days...

Gay at Heart posted:

January 14?, 1829
Dearest Rachel,

It has been some time since I last wrote to you. I apologize for my long absence, but I am simply incapable of returning as of now. I have been told that this letter may not even be able to reach you, but I will write nonetheless. The events which i conveyed to you in my earlier writings to you were indeed not a dream, but the beginnings of a shadowy war which has begun between the Excombs and what those they refer to primarily as the "Sectoids". From what I have been told, these Sectoids come to earth in metal constructs not unlike a boat, but supposedly capable of hurtling through the air in a controlled manner. Of course, this is sheer nonsense as controlled flight is impossible, as has been known since the dawn of time. I cannot explain how the constructs appear, nor how our own metal craft arrive at the scene, but no doubt a logical scientific explanation can be found.

Over the past weeks I have come to know the new enemy which threatens our fine States. The Excombs insist that we are in Europe, no doubt to their backwards nature. However, I have found that in combat they make fearsome, if somewhat disorganized, soldiers. Despite my recommendations to the otherwise, our single division seems to be composed of a roughly 12 man roster, a ludicrous number to carry out combat with. Indeed, a constant stream of new recruits flows into the base as we inevitably lose men. The Sectoids prefer to hide in houses and barns throughout the countryside, waiting for us in ambush rather than facing us on the field of battle man to man. Due to my previous combat experience, I have risen in rank, although we seem to be quite short on the enlisted ranks, my squad is primarily composed of other officers. In war, a man must do as much with what he is given as is possible, so for the time being I must continue to aid the Excombs in the hopes that one day they shall return me to you. Until that day, my love, I shall continue my correspondence.

Sincerely,
President of the United States Andrew Jackson

Terashell posted:

Security Log - TIMESTAMP LOST - XCOM Facility Early Light

During a standard sweep of the premises the security squad found the following image... "painted" on the door, and walls immediately surrounding said door, of one Allen Wren's quarters, also known as Storage Closet 3 in Subsection 16.



The substance appeared to be fresh blood, just beginning to dry. We sent a sample down to the lab for a DNA test, only to discover that the substance contained no DNA and so far, no cleaning agent has been able to remove it.

We are currently investing the members of ex-Captain Dominic Maxwell's squad who are still alive as suspects. Given the unique nature of the substance in question, and a complete search of the base, we currently have no leads.

End Log