Hello, and welcome to my first XCOM story: Lockdown

My name is Alex Lee and I am the writer of this story.

For everyone who is new, welcome. I hope you enjoy your stay, and find this fic as entertaining to read as I find it to write.

Now, as for how this fic even came into existence, well, that's a long story.

The short version is that essentially, several years ago, my friend and I were playing XCOM Enemy Unknown on Ironman mode, and I took an interest in one of the characters he had created and played with.

This character amazingly not only became our personal favorite, but also managed to survive all the way up to the end of the game, and subsequently died before our very eyes.

After that tragic end to her however, she became a bit of a brainchild for me. So I decided to start a small fic about her and the squad she ran with, as a kind of tribute to her and the fun that she had given us while playing.

Consequently, that story somehow took on a life of its own and became what it is today. A full blown XCOM fiction.

Now as this is me writing, I will probably be taking a slightly slower pace, so bear with me as a few boring opening chapters will occur.

Also a big shout out to my Beta reader Xabiar who is also an author (Go check him out, he's amazing) and has been helping these past months in getting this story up to snuff.

Please feel free to leave comments, reviews, questions follows or favorites as you see fit.

It really does help keep my writing motivation high.

Right. Now enough beating around the bush. Onwards to the story.

Lockdown

Thursday, October 20th, 2022

1900 Hours

Journal entry 62:

Hello again.

Seems it's been a little while since we last spoke. Hell, I would bet by this point you guys weren't even expecting to hear from me at all. What with my mental state, and how much extra training I took on after the accident.

I'm still here though. Barely hanging in there some days, but overall, I think I'm starting to get better. The training is helping immensely in keep my mind from wandering into places it shouldn't, and I even managed to laugh at one of the guys jokes a few days back. Which is a good sign. I think.

All that aside though, for whatever it's worth, I am really sorry for making you both wait and worry for months on end. I honestly don't mean for things to get that out of hand, and I will try my hardest to not to let it happen again. Lord knows I will probably fail, but all the same, I will try. I promise.

And in my defense, you guys know full well how little free time us trainees get. Especially during the first few weeks of basic training, and even more so during volunteer training. So it really shouldn't come as to much of a surprise that I can't write as often as before.

I wish I could. I wish there was more hours in the day, and that training didn't exhaust me so much, but honestly, until this round of Cryo training is complete, my hands are completely tied on the matter. Which may or may not be a good thing. Jury is still out on that one.

Speaking of which, things have been a little weird around here for the past month. I'll do my best to try and catch you guys up on recent events from around the base, but with how fast things keep happen, I have no doubt I'll miss something.

First and foremost, never, and I mean never, let anyone convince you that waking up from cryogenically induced sleep is anything but exceedingly painful and uncomfortable.

It's not some long version of a good night's sleep. You don't wake up feeling well rested and refreshed, nor do you feel like you're ready to instantly get up and try to take on whatever the universe has thrown your way.

No. It's more in line with the feeling you get the morning after an all-night pub crawl. One where you drink a few too many pints of Guinness, hit on some cute girl who's sitting alone, only to have her six-foot-twelve gym rat of a boyfriend smash your face a few times out back for doing so.

I'm looking at you, Adam.

A severe upset stomach, at least one or two bouts of diarrhea, and a pounding headache are to be considered the minor aftereffects of the whole ordeal.

Meaning that if you only barf your guts up, find yourself sitting on the throne for a few hours, before ultimately lying face down on your cot whilst feeling like a sumo wrestler is sitting on your skull, you're to consider yourself one of the lucky ones.

The unlucky ones? Well, let's just say I don't envy the janitors of this facility.

Those, however, are simply just the unsung rules of cryosleep. In exchange for a period of time in which your body and mind don't age a second, you get to experience the mother of all hangovers as soon as you're pulled from the tank.

It's a pretty good deal all things considered, and apparently the technology has become more and more widely used too.

Many of the current high ranking squads are said to be put into pods for months on end. Keeping them in complete stasis sleep until either they are needed for a mission, or their base is discovered. Which basically translates into until they are killed, as I highly doubt freshly pulled soldiers, even ones as badass as them, are much help in repelling an alien base hey, you never know.

The payoff for this risk, however, is that according to many of the reports that I have been able to get my hands on, the practice has been extending the optimal mental and physical performance timeframe of these squads by months or even years. Which, especially for people on the front line of this war, is immensely important.

There are still a few slight issues with the system, especially when it comes to healing injuries, but once those are ironed out, it's quite possible that within a year or two every single resistance base will be converted to this new Cryo Squad Rotation system. Thus extending the amount of operational time each base's recruits will have by untold amounts.

Hell, even as we speak, it's currently being being installed and beta tested in three of the main European bases. And that's a pretty damn good sign if I do say so myself.

Now, I'm sure your both wondering as to why I'm telling you all this.

Well mostly it's because I find it very interesting and I'm trying to justify the extra training I have signed up for. But also because recently, something has changed.

Someone new popped up. Someone who apparently either missed the class on cryosleep aftereffects, just doesn't want to follow the pre-set rules everyone else does, or is the master of hiding their pain.

Either way, we'll have to wait and see if this is legitimate, or if it's just another trick being pulled by the guys.

My bet's on the latter of the two, but you never know. Maybe this rookie knows something the rest of us don't.

Now, moving on to less savory news, apparently the aliens managed to find and obliterate one of the bases in South America.

Yah. It's as bad as it sounds...

Thursday, November 17th, 2022

1923 Hours

Journal entry 102:

Well, holy shit guys.

Ok, remember a couple months ago, when I mentioned that there was a new rookie in Cryo Training? Well, it seems that I was completely and utterly wrong about her.

Though can you really blame me for the disbelief? I mean, how often do you come face to face with a literal freak of nature?

Alright, alright. Excuses aside, I will fully admit that I didn't believe what I was seeing from the get go. I wholeheartedly passed it off as just someone else trying to pull a tough guy act, placed my bet as to how long it would take for her to crack, and didn't even think twice about it.

It was less a theory and more of a fact that sooner or later she would break under the pressure and just let up on the whole facade. Money would then be exchanged, laughs would be had at her expense, and the whole group would simply move on to the next hell hole same as before.

Except that never happened.

Two months, countless attempts of sabotage, and a continual barrage of training later, and it has become almost impossible to deny the reality of the situation. She can simply do what no one else can. Ignore the Cryo sleep rules.

And by ignore, I mean simply wake up from cryo freeze as if she was merely napping, and be on her merry way with nothing more than a couple of painkillers and a hot meal.

It's unreal. Inhuman almost. She not only proved she could survive the pressure and relentless attacks, but excel under it, costing many nonbelievers a lot of money in what they had thought was a safe bet.

And to make matters even worse? She didn't just stop there. Apparently being considered a freak of nature just isn't good enough. She also had to prove she was also the best of us in every way.

Speed, strength, agility, endurance. You name it, she has proved she is easily the best in our group at it. Quickly climbing the ladder and becoming one of the front runners of our group in record time.

She was even given a nickname due to her unreal performance.

Anomaly.

The one person that even the drill sergeant agree, is just one of a kind, and leaves it at that. Least they become the next victims of her relentless drive to prove that each and every single one of us is beneath her.

And normally, I would agree with them. Normally I would simply leave it at that, and refuse to involve myself with her any further.

However these performances, have done something rather, unexpected.

They awoke something deep inside me. A feeling that I had thought with some certainty, was lost to the void along with the two of you.

A feeling that is now roaring out from deep within me. Demanding pain and commitment in exchange for valor and glory. The hunger for victory lives within me once more, and with an advisory like her around, it's not easily ignored.

Each and ever day, I find myself inexplicably working harder and harder. Pushing myself further and further. Breaking my own personal limits again and again, until I can't even physically move.

I awake to find myself hoping that this would be the day that I catch her. That this would be the day she'd mess up and finally lose.

So far, I have had no luck.

Right now, it seems that no matter how hard I work and try, she will always be just one step ahead. Slowly but surely, each day moving further and further away from me until now, I can barely see her in the distance. Her each success hanging over me like a banner of shame, taunting me, and only driving me to work harder than before.

I won't give up though. I can't, least the hunger be left unsatisfied.

I will continue to hold onto the hope that she will slip up one of these days. Shes only human after all, and humans are never perfect.

And when she dose mess up, when she dose finally fall, rest assured I will be there.

Ready and waiting to surpass her.

Saturday, December 23rd, 2023

1923 Hours

Journal entry 183:

And so ends this chapter of my life.

That right guys. She is officially gone. Anomaly has left the building.

Two years. Two years of being forced to look at her back. Of pushing myself to the absolute brink each and every day in a fleeting attempt to catch up. Of listening to the Sergeant sing her praises each and every day, and she is finally gone.

And I don't honestly know if I'm more happy or sad.

I mean sure, on one hand her mere existence made literally every single day a living hell for me, but on the other hand, she did inadvertently push me well and truly beyond what I though was capable, and that should result in me surviving slightly longer. Right?

Fine. Call it a begrudging respect then. She is good at what she does after all, and there is no denying that fact after she single-handedly kicked all our asses for two years straight.

Its quite likely, that she will live longer than any of us, kill more of the alien invaders than everyone combined, and be awarded medals for every single mission she runs. She will go far, that much is certain. Whether or not she will remember any of us, now that's the real question.

I suppose I'll never really know for sure though. Chances of ever seeing her again other than on TV is slim to none now, as she's been assigned to lead a shock squad. One of the front line assault squads that are deployed on missions deemed too dangerous for normal soldiers.

Her promotion was held earlier today in front of the entire base. It was a big old affair with everyone being forced to wear their dress uniform and stand in formation while the commanding officers read off her list of accomplishments since coming here.

Two years. Two fucking years of training, and she is already regarded as the single best solider to ever join the resistance.

Call her the Wayne Gretzky of the battlefield for all I care, she has only a year of service before I get my crack at the aliens. Then we will see who harbors more hatred for the invaders.

There is however, one very strange thing I have noticed about her. Well I mean other than the inhuman combat capabilities.

Even with this sudden rise in popularity, she has and continues to be a complete and total mystery to literally everyone. Even to even her own training squad who she bunked and trained with for the past two years.

I mean, sure, she didn't talk to anyone, choosing instead to isolate herself from the group every chance she got. And yes she ignored literally every single person who attempted to speak or interact with her, but still. You would expect that a person with now almost global celebrity status would have at least one person who knew them before the war. But no. Apparently not.

Even stranger though, is that no amount of information can be found on her in the database either. No one seems to know where she came from, who she was before the invasion, or even when she enrolled. Not even the recruiting officers or recruitment archives have a record of her arrival. It's almost as if she never even enrolled to begin with.

I've heard of people's records being hidden but bloody hell, no one even knows her real name, her rank, or really anything about any of the operations she's now been a part of. It's like she doesn't even exist.

All anyone really knows is her it seems, is her face, voice, and new call sign. Though I'm sure she would have tried to hide that as well if not for one thing.

When your call sign becomes the designation of arguably the soon to be best spearhead squad humanity has to offer, it's kind of hard to hide.

Lockdown.

Because let's face it, Anomaly never really suited her anyways.

Monday, May 15nd, 2024

2200 Hours

Journal entry 304:

You know, it's days like today when I really do envy you guys.

I mean really. Look at you. Sitting up there all relaxed and shit. No doubt getting tons of sleep, sipping rum out of coconuts, and sun bathing in some beautiful tropical paradise.

Meanwhile here I am, still stuck to the earth and forced to solider on without you sods, all while getting a front row seat to watch, as the planet we were gifted with and grew up on is slowly torn apart and consumed by a third world war.

Though I suppose calling it that is a bit ironic since last time we said that, we were more concerned with killing each other rather than saving anything.

Either way though, this war has officially lasted longer than even the most liberal of newspapers estimated, caused more deaths than was even thought to be possible, and destroyed more land than world war one and two combined, honestly has, and continues to be, unlike anything that we as a species have ever encountered before.

Hell. Thinking back on things, back to when they first came for us, I'm honestly surprised we were not wiped out instantly within the first few weeks.

I mean you guys remember how when the invasion first began, most people around town just laughed at the news reports? Well, I recently found out that apparently even some of the world's governments though it was a joke as well. Russia classified the initial reports as hacking incidents for crying out loud!

It really seems that it wasn't until the first fatality reports started to make the rounds that people started to pay closer attention and prepare for the attacks that would soon come. After all, it's hard to ignore or laugh off the news of over five million people being systematically exterminated in a single day.

It has been over four years since that fateful day. Four, painful, frustrating, and stressful years.

The day humanity confirmed we were not alone in the universe, and the largest genocide in human history began.

The day I personally dragged us all the way to the recruiting office the next town over, and demanded they let us join.

The day that marks the beginning of the single most painful, frustrating, and stressful years of my entire life.

But it still feels like it was only yesterday that we all sitting side by side cracking jokes as we made our way back home to pack.

It's been a tough and frustrating four years since that day. A lot of blood, sweat and tears has been shed in the name of training our sorry little asses for the battlefield, and I suspect even more will be shed once we hit those damn killing fields tomorrow.

You heard that right boys. The announcement finally came through. Today was our last official day of training. Tomorrow morning at o-seven-hundred, we will be shipping out for the front lines.

First stop is a base roughly half a day's ride from here where we will be all be assigned to different squads, and then its straight onto our first mission.

So I guess the real question is, do I feel ready for this?

Truthfully, not in the least. But at this point I highly doubt that I will ever truly be ready. After all, I've been through basic twice. I've done months of experimental craning to prepare for the future of this fight.

There are just some things that you can't learn in a classroom or from a drill sergeant. Things like sacrifice, loss, and valor. Things that truthfully, you can only really learn by experiencing them, and hopefully surviving them.

That's the reality of war though. Not everyone makes it home.

I think I know that better than anyone else here.

So here I sit. Waiting for the sun to rise.

Tomorrow, I will be assigned to a front line squad.

Tomorrow, I will officially be able to start making good on my promise to the both of you.

Tomorrow, this war which I have sat on the sidelines of for far too long, watching, waiting to join, will finally become mine to fight in.

Am I scared? Of course.

Excited? Yes.

Anxious? Very much so.

Ready to serve my country, no, planet, to the best of my capacity? Absolutely.

I don't know when I'll be able to write again, as free time is mostly going to be sparse, so I'll sign off for now with this. Winston Churchill once said this:

"To every person, there comes in their lifetime, that special moment, when they are physically tapped on the shoulder and offered the chance to do a very special thing, unique to each and fitted to their special talent; what a tragedy if that moment finds them unprepared or unqualified for the work which would be their finest hour."

My name is Drew Crawford, and I have spent five years training to be as prepared and qualified as possible.

I am ready for that moment to come.