Since nobody can be expected to just sit and wait for XCOM 2 to come out, we’ll be having ourselves a little countdown for the 19 sundays left between us and salvation. Each week I’ll be showcasing another soldier living aboard the Avenger, who they are, and why exactly it is they fight for XCOM. When the game comes out, I’ll be creating all of these and release them as a content mod for your character pool. But for now, this’ll have to do.
Keep in my that this is all completely fanfiction-based and I am in no way affiliated with Firaxis. I just do this as a fun writing exercise, because I can.
An encounter with:
Cadence “Bird” Spencer, from the United Kingdom:
At the bar, Spencer’s custom GREMLIN hovers around the room with a tray of gin. This round is free, in celebration of the full house and the most recent flawless mission, but usually she makes quite a lot off her booze.
“I dream of a world where people will see a bottle of ‘Spencer’s Dry Gin’ and say ‘Oi, that’s what they used to drink on the Avenger innit?’ It’s gonna be forever a reminder that humans like to have a kitchen sink even when the world’s in the bloody shitter. Look around you!”
She opens her arms toward the crowd the bar is packing tonight. One of the returnees is standing on the bar, being cheered on as he downs a pint of beer in one go. They then erupt into an almost intimidating collective roar as the first notes of AC/DC’s Highway to Hell resound from the jukebox.
“This is what they don’t understand. Have you ever seen a game of muton cricket? Chryssalid concert? A sectoid night club maybe? They got no notion of fun! That’s why they’re so angry when we pull their plonkers, because everythin’s just always serious with them. We’re probably being followed by a bloody UFO right now that wants to fucking kill us all brown bread. We don’t care, we get fucking pissed, the laugh, dance and shag all night, because that’s the true meaning of life, innit? Sure, we do this rebellion shite because we want our freedom and such, but, honestly, it’s just fun killing aliens and ADVENT cunts both. It’s fun rescuing people, it’s fun being a bunch o’ bloody heroes, like we’re on a high-stakes never-ending party, and the grim reaper is the guest of honour. You gotta live every day like it’s gonna be your last, and on board this nanny goat it just might be! We kick the aliens in the family jewels, run away, and have fun doing it! They could really learn something from us. Maybe they’ll figure out our secret to having fun one day and convert to our lifestyle, eh?”
She laughs at the notion and opens another bottle.
“Before this I used to work for me old man in The Cask Emporium. We had all the whiskeys, vodkas, beers and ciders, even the exotic stuff like Canadian icewine, vodka from South Africa and Japanese Whiskey, which is quite good actually. Greatest liquor store in all of Brixton, all of London even if you ask me. Then this geezer came along, childhood friend of my dad’s, never seen him for years. Apparently he asked for help blowing up bloody parliament! Couple days later, ADVENT rozzers roll into the shop, say they caught the guy and ask me dad why he didn’t say anything. Old man says he’s not a nark, he’s not gonna rat out his crazy friend with the bonkers plan. So they take him away and bang him up for twenty bloody years for ‘Collaboration in Conspiracy’. It’s not fair, innit? My dad worked hard for his Emporium, all his life he did. Then some bloke comes in, tells him about something he wants no part in and suddenly he’s baddie! I fight for XCOM because my dad deserves to cherish the fruits of his life’s work, and he ain’t got twenty years left in him.”