#commander anker

In all, it was hard to tell if he was truly being cooperative or testing them in each session. He never put up a physical fight, and it wasn’t like he could due to several reasons, but he tried their patience in several other ways. Sometimes, every other word with switch to a different language taking them some time to string together whatever he was saying. Sometimes, he would only speak in the Elders’ language, which XCOM was still deciphering. And some days, he wouldn’t speak at all and just give them his signature plain-faced disinterested stare. Even with the surviving Senior Staff that worked closely with him during the Invasion, they had trouble deciphering what his mood was. 

“Again!?” Someone shouted. The sounds of shoes squeaking across the floor intensified. “Where did he get that bottle and glass from!?” They questioned. A few psionic pings and curses followed.

Kamon was currently trying their patience again with his new, concerning habit. 

It all started a week ago when Bradford, Dr. Veer, and some other Senior staff were trying to rouse old memories and see if he recalled anything while imprisoned. It was a mostly unsuccessful venture as it seemed any of his memories of his time leading XCOM were shot, and he ignored any mention of that Stasis Suit — that was reasonable. Dr. Veer felt like he was recalling something, but was unsure if he was knowingly or unknowingly suppressing it. She could see the slightest change in his eyes and noticed a few odd ticks in his brainwave patterns, but that constant, disinterested face he wore made it difficult for her to be sure. She wanted to tap at his mind with her psionics and gently tap at a few centers of his mind to see if she could find just a strand of memory, but with how he tuned out all mentions of that suit she had a feeling he would not react well to psionics. She would try another time when he was more responsive. Or maybe sooner than she thought. 

Just as their unfruitful discussions with him were winding down, and they were conversing amongst themselves to make a few plans of attack for future sessions, they had left Kamon alone for just a moment. A few seconds later, two distinctive psionic pings rang in the room. None of the psionic sensors went off, but everyone was searching for the source until they were the popping of a cork and liquid being poured. Heads whipped around. It was Kamon. The man somehow had a bottle of wine in his hands and was pouring a fair amount of the glistening red liquid into a wine glass sitting in front of him. Everyone was so stunned, too busy trying to figure out where the bottle and glass came from until someone finally snapped to and tried to take it from it. That’s when they found out he was a psion.

“Oh, for the love of—! Why haven’t we collared him?” Another worker cursed.

“Orders from the doctors and Central forbid us from doing so.” One worker wisely stood by the sidelines since they knew how this would usually play out.

“That’s a load of — HEY!”

Like back then, currently, Kamon was currently playing a game of cat and mouse with the doctors and workers. Whenever someone tried to snatch the wine glass or bottle, he’d teleport them out of their reach and to another side of the room or he would teleport himself and everything to another part of the room. This would continue on and on until either he had his fill — which, thankfully, was always what he just poured — or they finally gave up and left him alone.

The doctors didn’t like this developing habit as they were still running tests to see what the Elders had done to his genetic makeup and feared he may have similar restrictions the Hybrid faced when it came to alcohol. Bradford didn’t like this habit. He thought back on Veer saying she felt he was subconsciously recalling what had happened and possibly recalling the time of his imprisonment. The last thing he wanted, the last thing XCOM needed, was their leader developing a drinking habit. 

“He’s missing an arm and a leg and is still keeping them off of him.” Virgil Defoy said. His lips trembled and his eyes squinted as he tried to hold back a laugh. “What is this, like the 10th time so far this week, mate?”

Bradford let out an annoyed sigh as he shook his head. “To tell you the truth, I’ve stopped keeping track.”

Bradford and Virgil were standing just at the door frame watching the all too familiar scene play out. It was like watching some vintage cartoon as their disabled Commander would teleport from one side of the room to the other, even planting himself on the ceiling to stay out of their reach so he could enjoy his drink.

“Any clue how he keeps getting them since, ya know, he’s been confined to the Infirmary since we rescued him?” It was a pointless question, but it had been bothering Virgil. “Cuz’ our brewin’ gals and pals are getting might-ty annoyed wondering who has been pilfering their stock used for trading and the crew.” Keeping news of who the culprit from spreading was growing more and more difficult with each snatched bottle. “And same with the bargoers wondering why their favorite drink is missing for sum hours.”

Bradford shook his head again. All he could muster was a shrug. “We’re still trying to figure that out, but suspect it has something to do with his psionics.” Doctors Marin and Quinn had been floating around some theories that Kamon could be subtly reaching out with his psionics to map the ship since no one had reported any headaches. “I know. Warren’s already told me he’s going to strangle whoever has been touching his mead stock and those in progress.”

He snorted. “Man, oh, man… the mountain man is pissed. Took him forever to get all that honey besides getting ‘em hives set up at those Havens.” He then pulled at his salt and pepper goatee before smacking his lips. “And why are you guys still allowing this?”

Bradford let out a pained sigh as his eyes closed for just a moment too long. A brief memory of weakness flashed behind his eyes — one that caused his eyes to snap back open. Not now. “So far, it looks like his genetic makeup hasn’t been altered like the Hybrids, so he won’t suffer from the poisoning effect.” And he was counting his blessings it would stay that way. “And he’s been a little more cooperative as of late. Still not talking as much as we would like, but much more cooperative.” A sigh slipped out. “Just happy he’s not violent.”

“In-ter-rest-ing.” He mumbled. “Real in-ter-rest-ing.”

A series of psionic pings preceded a loud crash; a worker had plowed into some chairs, knocking them into a table, and some equipment was scattered about.

“Ridiculous… why do they keep trying?” Bradford grumbled. Though he had tried a few times to snatch the alcohol away when it had first started. It was like the man had a sixth sense — and he did — as Bradford always tried to snatch the drink or bottle away when he least expected, but was always thwarted. 

“Think it’s about time we stepped in?” Virgil asked. Bradford nodded.

“You’ve got those collapsable shot glasses on you?” He asked.

Virgil raised a brow but with his hand had fiddled with one of his many keychains around his waist and unhooked two half-inch disks. He raised them, unscrewed one, and popped it open to its full height. “Always got em’. Don’t tell me you’re thinking of…” He didn’t finish his sentence but was smirking.

Bradford nodded. “Want to see if he’ll talk more if we join him.”

Several more psionic pings and another slew of curses made Bradford’s brow twitch. With another disappointed shake of his head, he adjusted his earpiece before letting out a grunt as he marched forward. Virgil followed just behind him.

“That’s enough!” His raised voice made everyone in the room freeze. Everyone, except Kamon, who had just teleported back to a chair and table. Glowing blue eyes focused on Bradford and Virgil as he casually sipped his drink.

“Everyone get out!” Bradford barked. “You know the damn protocols, so why the hell do you even keep trying?”

“Sir! The alcohol poses a ri—” Someone tried to argue back, but he cut them off.

“With the amount he’s had for the past week, and God knows what we haven’t caught, I think he would have gone blind by now and died if he had a Hybrid’s genetic makeup. Now, leave.”

The workers reluctantly left. 

Scanning the room, Bradford shook his head again. It was a mess. Various equipment and medical instruments were turned over. His eyes narrowed when he spied a familiar dampening collar resting on Kamon’s bed. “Really?” He soon grumbled he was going to discipline the idiot who snuck that in. He went over to get the thing and tossed it out of the room.

Virgil made himself busy by cleaning up the mess the best he could. He stumbled across a few bottles hidden under a bed and took a moment to examine them. “Huh, not too much missing ‘cept for these three.” He mumbled before he whistled over to Bradford and waved them. “Looks like our boy has got a sweet tooth and one with a bit of a kick. Warren’s gonna be pissed he found his hot honey mead and the muscadine wine.” He laughed.

Bradford rolled his eyes. Something to worry about later. “Ignore him.” He said a bit under his breath to Kamon.

With the room a little neater, the two finally turned their attention to Kamon. 

“Sorry about that. I know that’s not the best way to start one’s morning…” Bradford was the first to speak as they both went over. He made sure the translation program was going for his tablet and earpiece before placing the tablet on the table, facing the screen away from Kamon. “They mean well concerning your well-being, but their approach is lacking tact.”

Kamon raised a brow as he continued to sip. There was a faint nod and a snort that followed.

Looking at his old friend, his old boss, was hard in several ways. He always had trouble reading Kamon’s mood, as even back in the day; it was always this mixed default plain, to unamused, to disinterested look. A faint funny but painful thought crossed his mind as his fellow Sub-Commanders had trouble reading his emotions for the first month before they finally picked up the subtle changes to his expressions.

 But right now, he wished the man would show just a shred of some other emotion. Happiness. Sadness. Hell, even some anger. But it was just nothing. Was it apathy? Indifference? I faintly recall he had some nerve damage in his face, but he emoted back then even with a bit of struggle. He just wasn’t sure.

Just what did the Elders do to you? Bradford couldn’t help but look at some of the most obvious mutilations his old friend suffered. Besides some light surgical scars found across his body marking the “standard” the Elders held by “improving” or “punishing” various species, from the doctors’ scans, it didn’t look like Kamon was missing any “non-vital” organs. The very mention of that made Bradford and a few other Senior staff shutter as they recalled those alien autopsies and those unfortunate civilians found on those surgery tables onboard the UFOs and those alien strongholds popping up more and more during the Old War.

But the Elders did perform some kind of major surgery on the Commander. Kamon’s left arm was missing above the shoulder black and his right leg was missing just at the knee. It seemed like the Elders had plans on giving him prosthetics, as both areas had visible and hidden integration ports.

Then on the sides of his head, he had these golden diamond-shaped implants, four on each side, and then one last diamond-shaped implant resting at the base of his neck that had one of the standard ports in the center and then some more of that golden metal ran underneath the diamonds. 

And then his face. The man already had scars littering the left side of his face and body, which Bradford had come to learn through gossip was caused by his estranged family, but his capture left him with a few new searing jagged red scars that looked like someone tried to crack his face open.

And I swear he was a little shorter than me back then… still oddly tall for his ethnicity... He couldn’t help but shake the feeling that his old boss was somehow taller. He had yet to see the man stand at his full height due to missing a leg, yet just with how he sat in that chair, it looked like he had grown a few inches. A snort slipped out as a funny thought popped into his mind. Remember, genetics can be weird. Think of Jynn and her brother, Charles. African American and Japanese with a whole lot of other stuff. If you didn’t study their faces, you would never be able to tell they were related. Heh. So must be the Dutch in him.

“Mind if we join ya?” Virgil asked. Popping open the other shot glass he gave both a little shake, causing the metal plates to rattle, and smiled. “We won’t be killjoys like those folk! Hell, it may be more fun chattin’ over drinks! Loosen’ up a bit since, ya know, drinks will make ya spill the truth!”

“Virgil, that’s a little too—”

Two psionic pings rang out. Appearing on the table in bursts of blue light were two wine glasses and another set of bottles.

Both looked at each other before looking at Kamon. Kamon’s expression barely changed. Those glowing blue eyes glanced at them, then the glasses, and back at them, and last, the chairs.

Virgil snickered. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He was already sitting down. Bradford just rolled his eyes and sat down.

Virgil was already grabbing one of the new bottles and reading the label. A snort followed by a loud laugh broke the silence. “Warren’s gonna be pissed.~” He sang. “‘Nother one of his experimental meads. A spicy, spiced berry. One he and Memento have been collaborating on.”

Bradford felt like his eyes were going to roll out of his head before the hour was over. “I’ll contact those Void Walkers to see if they can get him a barrel full of honey or whatever he wants.” He soon grumbled. “And Memento whatever she wants when she’s back with us. Praying no one has killed any of her plants… again.”

The comment about dead plants got Virgil snickering. “Memento wouldn’t have to do any of the threatening if that happened. Warren’s in charge when she’s gone. And just about everyone on here would be after the culprits since it IS nice to have some fresh veggies and fruits not touched by ADVENT and ’em Elder bastards.”

Bradford nodded to that. “Amen to that.”

As Virgil was making motions to open the mead bottle, with a psionic ping, the bottle disappeared from his hand and reappeared next to Kamon.

“What ta hell, mate?” Virgil raised a twitching brow. “Thoughtcha was fine with us—”

Another ping and flash of blue went off inside the bottle, causing the cork to shoot out. Kamon took one last big sip of his drink before setting it down. He then picked up the bottle. To their surprise, he didn’t pour himself more, instead, he looked at Virgil, the glass in front of him, and then gestured for him to bring it to him.

“Oh?” Virgil asked as he raised his glass. Kamon nodded. “Oh. Heh, heh, heh.”

Once the glass was within reach, Kamon poured him a fair amount. He then looked at Bradford and made the same gesture.

Bradford looked at his glass and then that bottle. He could feel that yearning for a stiff drink biting at his throat. Not too much. Don’t need to have that taste drag me to the bar later. Rather have something else right now, but hopefully, this more ‘casual’ talk will make him talk more. “Less than him.” He said as he moved his glass over to Kamon.

Kamon simply nodded and gave him much less than Virgil. With mead in the glass, Bradford pulled it back, but unlike Virgil who had already finished his glass and was back for more asking for the other bottle to be opened, he didn’t touch it. 

Just as Bradford was about to speak, Kamon finally said something in a mix of languages. His voice was still somewhat hoarse and not as deep as it once was.

“››May I have pen and paper?‹‹“

It took a moment for Bradford to get the translation. He raised a brow. A strange request. “Why the request?”

Kamon didn’t reply. He simply tilted his head, like he was asking why right back at him. His expression remained unchanged.

Bradford held in an exasperated sigh that had been wanting to escape for some time. “I’ll do you something better.”

He got up and left the room. It took a few minutes, but he came back with a tablet. He figured that would be much safer than giving him a pen, though the man had shown no signs of violence. That was something they didn’t want to risk. Bradford also had an ulterior motive for choosing the tablet; he could privately link with the device to see what Kamon would be typing.

“Tablet. Note app. You can write with your finger or use the keyboard.” Bradford said as he set it down in front of Kamon.

There was a slight change in expression for Kamon. Psionic energy sparkled throughout his eyes as they narrowed, focusing on Bradford for just a moment before shifting over to the tablet. Setting down his glass, he pulled the tablet closer to him and began to mess with it. His brows scrunched and relaxed several times as he tried to figure out the system. He spent a few minutes testing it out, attempting to write on it with his non-dominant hand, before deciding on the keyboard. 

Bradford slyly activated the remote viewing to see what Kamon was typing. Before he could truly take a look, Virgil nudged him a few times.

“Gonna drink or am I gonna have to drink for ya?” He grinned.

Bradford just glared. “I’ll take a sip.” He finally grabbed the glass.

“A little warning, it’s got a subtle kick to it. Takes a few seconds for the pepper burn to hit the throat.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t exactly believe the warning. 

As he took a sip, he cringed. The mead was much sweeter than he was expecting and much sweeter than he preferred. Not horrible, but would rather be drinking some whiskey right now. May need some later depending on how this plays out. Not how I expected things to go since his rescue. I may be the Acting Commander for much longer than I want. Are the others out there and imprisoned too? More dark thoughts slowly began to enter his mind before he shoved them back into the corner they belonged. 

He unexpectedly cringed again. Just as Virgil had warned, it took a few seconds for the pepper burn to hit the back of his throat. He made a few subtle clicks before a faint grunt slipped out as he tried to fight the growing burn and stifle a cough, but it slipped free.

“Here…” He grumbled as he passed his glass over to Virgil who gladly snatched and dumped into his. 

“Think you’d like the ginger berry one more.” Virgil snickered as he pointed to the bottle.

I’d like ginger beer more than alcohol right now. Wonder if the latest batch is done? Bradford shook his head. “I think I’ll pass until—”

Two psionic pings range out. Bradford’s wine glass disappeared from Virgil’s hand before a clean one appeared on the tablet. And then another bottle appeared on the table, much shorter than the mead bottles.

Wait… is that? Shifting forward, his eyes narrowed as he focused on the new bottle. The label read “Warren’s Special Ginger Beer - Extra EXTRA Strength.” His brows raised as he blinked a few times. Did he…? A worrying thought crossed his mind. He felt no psionic touch on his mind. None of those pinpricks or pushes on his brain before something would try to ensure him. Then again, he had no idea what Kamon’s psionics felt like. Or does he recall something… Can’t say I drank ginger beer back in the day that much… He hated his foggy memories concerning the more “relaxed” times in the old HQ.

“Oh, no gingin for me?” Virgil playfully whined. With another psionic ping, a bottle appeared before him. “Much obliged.”

“So where we left off the last time we chatted…?” Bradford shifted in his seat before leaning forward to use his tablet to bring up his notes from their last session.

Before he did, he caught a glimpse of what Kamon was typing. At first, it looked like gibberish with odd abbreviations he couldn’t decipher and a few numbers until he scrolled down to more legible notes. It looked like he was recording notes on the current meads they were drinking. Kamon had notes for himself and then his observations for Bradford and Virgil. He made a pointed note concerning Bradford’s reaction to the spicy mead. “Seems not to like sweeter drinks. Have to see how he’d like the ginger berry one. If no to that, then he can have the ginger beer. Seems to have an odd relationship with alcohol with how he did not drink as quickly as his friend.” 

Then he noticed Kamon started a new section — “Today’s discussion with this “XCOM.” Whatever day it is. What nonsense will they repeat today to get me to “remember? Unless I’m just hallucinating all of this.”

Bradford did his best to hide a twitching brow. He was going to have to avoid reading those comments to keep himself from saying something he would regret. He is more observant than he’s letting on. And seems he thinks he’s still in that suit… The latter made him mentally sigh. He had a few suspicions that Kamon may have thought they were his captors. He was hoping there was some way to jog his memory and convince him they were not.

“I believe we were talking about some tales dear ol’ Kamon disappearing off to the hanger or to the motor pool to talk with the mechanics and get his hands dirty, to engineering to chat robotics with Dr. Shen, or slipping off to one of the MEC or Shiv workshops to talk to the engineers there.” Virgil said.

“Right, right.” Bradford nodded just as he brought up his notes. “It was your,” he made sure to make eye contact with Kamon, “way of de-stressing after a rather stressful operation or meeting with the Council.”

“Tch.” Virgil scoffed. “Damn that Council and their demands and damn them to hell for betraying us.”

An amused snort came from Bradford. He could agree in several ways. “Remember, there were some reasonable ones. Sadly, that didn’t save them all from being mind-controlled.”

“Right.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Any who…” Setting down the wine glass, he snatched the ginger beer off the table, pressed the metal cap against the edge of the table, and with a quick smack, the cap shot off with a metallic zing. “Let’s talk about ‘em motor pool days. Still can recall a few stories he shared with us when on break.”

Virgil took the lead since he was one of the old senior engineers who bounced between various workstations across the base. It was still a shocker to several of them that the Commander was once the head of a motor pool when not handling other technological things in the Navy when he wasn’t on land. 

As Virgil was taking a deep swig of his drink, a funny memory crossed his mind, causing him to nearly choke. He made sure to turn his head away from them as he spat out his drink and slipped into a coughing fit.

“You alright?” Bradford wondered if he was going to have to smack his back with how hard he was coughing.

Virgil raised a hand. “Good. *cough* I’m *cough* good!” He beat his chest a few times with a firm fist until the last bit of that burn left his throat. “Just ‘membered the story he told of dismantling three whole humvees because he was bored and then wanted to spite his boss at the time cuz they pulled some stupid shit and blamed his whole crew for the f-up.”

Bradford chuckled. “Seriously?” That was the first time he heard of that.

He nodded. “‘Member it all too well since none of us believed him and he proceeded to dismantle one of our humvees, found a few issues, and put it back together. That thing ran leagues better than before.”

Both of Bradford’s brows rose. He tried to recall the memory, but it just wasn’t there. “Wow. I see why he got along great with Dr. Shen and his team.”

Kamon barely reacted to the story. Maybe there were raised brows that happened too quickly for them to notice. 

Bradford caught a glimpse of his notes. “More of these ‘XCOM’ days, but the motor pool incident… that may be true? Not sure. Just foggy… but remember an old boss(before I replaced him) pulled some crap and tried to blame the crew, specifically me because he just didn’t like me. Think I used his words against him in the reaming talk down and report made when dismantling those humvees AND some other things. The look on his face was priceless. At least my new boss had a sense of humor and called him out on his BS. Think they were looking for a reason to ship him off somewhere else…”

Bradford mumbled to himself. Looked like his old boss was remembering things before XCOM even if his memory was still shot. A good sign, but it seemed the man was keeping that knowledge to himself. 

Virgil continued with a few more stories, mixing in the XCOM days with events of Kamon’s past that were shared with him. He brought up a few stories of how he interacted with the Sub-Commanders before each one got shipped off to their designated base, and the annoyances they had to deal with when the Gene Modding program began. He did most of the laughing, followed by a few chuckles from Bradford, but Kamon never made a sound. He just raised a brow, nodded along, or offered Virgil some more mead to drink.

This is going to be another session of nothing. Bradford lamented in his mind. He finally cracked open the ginger beer and started to sip it. The harsh bite caught him off guard for a second, causing him to sputter, but once he recovered, he was drinking it down like water. As most of Warren’s drink-making escapades went, it tasted great. The tingling bite was also knocking away that alcohol craving.

“Raymond wasn’t too happy when one of the prototype SHIVs went missing until he learned it was Kamon who had it.” Bradford interjected when he recognized the story Virgil was talking about.

Virgil was snickering up a storm. “Old doc still wasn’t too happy ‘bout that and warned him to not let it get damaged. But did like that some ‘combat data’ was being reported to fine-tune its detection sensors.”

He let out an annoyed sigh, eyes shook in anticipation of a roll that held itself. “Those with that invisibility gene and legs gene really liked jumping you guys. The vents… why was it always the vents?” Just remembering those incidents made a vessel pop out of his head.  

 Virgil choked mid gulp causing him to sputter before a roar of laughter took it over. He slammed his bottle on the table a few times. “Jynn and Kamon nearly got their skulls cracked from that!”

“The problems with being tall.” He chuckled, but a wistful sigh followed. As quick as the sad feeling came, the memories of how the others dealt with it caused him to crack a smile.  “Thaddeus body-slammed one of the culprits the fourth time it happened. Elli was the luckiest of the bunch, most of the time, she managed to slip out of their grasp before the leap. And that was before she got her dog.”

“Oh, that dog.” Virgil snickered. “How did she even get authorized to bring that silent hellhound to the base?”

“She used to be an animal handler, and it was her dog. Can’t remember the name, but she was very loyal and insanely smart.”

“Surprised nobody got mauled by that Dobermann.”

“There were some cases of bites, but nothing serious.”

Bradford checked back on Kamon’s notes. Seemed like he had become mostly disinterested in the storytelling as his note-taking became sparse and he returned to taking notes on the mead and making pointed suggestions to relay to the brewers. But he noticed something a little curious. From the conversations, Kamon had picked out a few key names and their positions, with some vague comments about each person and several question marks following the statements. To the untrained eye, it just looked like he was jotting down things the two had mentioned, but Bradford noticed there were a few details here and there that hadn’t been mentioned today or any of the days prior.

Thaddeus Seaver - He helped continually secure funding for the aircraft and related research… Last one to transfer to that Australian base. Some experienced soldiers were transferred alongside him for that work-in-progress (???) base, compared to the two others. Opal mines? Possible cash flow??? People will buy anything even with an apocalypse going on. China. The Triad… That artifact and… The note trailed off before going back to more speculation about why that location was chosen to build a base.

Jynn Reeves - She whipped the China base into shape within a… month? Helped boost the translation team’s funding. Helped with the Hong Kong situation, the battleship was a technological boon, and… The note trailed off again and switched to about some issues with getting their Psi Soldier division off the ground and needed some transfers of their tops psions from the main HQ to get that fixed.

Elli Antonov - She hated Ferro. Never got around to the name change. Moved to the African base. The region had an increased rate of captured aliens for interrogation. Helped boost both the Genetics and R&D teams. The notes trailed off, wondering how upset the Elders became when that happened.

Bradford scanned the notes over a few times, making sure he wasn’t imagining things. Seemed like another good sign, but he couldn’t shake a growing feeling gnawing at the back of his mind. He remembers some things, but why isn’t he talking to us? “Hm?” Then he noticed a note about him again in the drinks section.

John Bradford. Central Communication Officer then and now, in addition to becoming the “Acting Commander.” Face is… A new paragraph was started, skipping over the thought. Still avoiding alcohol. Is drinking the ginger beer. Seems to like it. Why avoid the alcohol? Alcohol avoidance? Trauma? Picked up a drinking habit post-Invasion? Who wouldn’t want to forget it all? Hope that liver is okay. Same with any others tapping the bottle. I’m sure that is happening around the ship if not world that isn’t under the aliens’ rule.

Another hm slipped out as Bradford read the latest entry that was still going. For a moment,  he glanced up at Kamon, the man was still typing away, more notes concerning the alcohols he had been sampling since the first time he teleported a bottle into his room and the apology letters he would possibly have to right to the angered brewers.

I think I’m going to have to press it. He opened his mouth to speak.

“››Opinions on the mead?‹‹” Kamon spoke in Dutch. He was looking at them as he gestured to the meads. His eyes were nearly back to their regular state. One was brown and the other, emphasized by his faint cut and burn scars, was a grayish blue.

Bradford chewed on the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t help shake off the feeling psionics were being used, but he still wasn’t feeling anything intruding on his mind. Just the usually nagging conscious of making him doubt XCOM would get their Commander back, where the others were, and the numerous logistical tasks he needed to get to were piling up. Logistics… need to get some raids going and resource gathering. Would love that mind of yours Kamon. You were always good at getting things set up and moving, quickly pivoting if something dire came up. 

“Opinions on the mead?” Virgil repeated the question back a little slowly as his translator took a moment to catch up. He tilted his head back and forth a few times, running his tongue behind his teeth, as he chuckled to himself. “Never thought a hot mead would be pretty nice. Fairly smooth and the burn is just right and doesn’t overstay its welcome. And the cinnamon is a nice earthy touch. Heh, if we ever get our hands on some wild pigs or sum cows,” he paused before cursing the aliens under his breath, “that would go great with some BBQ ribs.” He then made some positive comments about the ginger berry mead.

Bradford glanced down at his tablet as soon as he noticed Kamon was typing again. A new section appeared in the notes, jotting down all the details Virgil was making about the meads.

He got a little too focused until Virgil nudged him.

“Hm?” Bradford glanced up.

“Your turn, bucko.” Virgil grinned.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Kamon was waiting. The notes can wait.  “The first one was too sweet for my tastes. Maybe a splash of aged whiskey would tone it down for me.” He shrugged. “And that heat was weird. Made me lose interest in trying the other.” A partial truth as he overestimated how quickly his body wanted to drink something much harder after the small sip. “Sorry.”

“››The ginger beer then?‹‹“ Kamon nodded to it.

“Hardier bite than expected, but good as always with how Warren makes it.” He said. Kamon simply nodded and continued typing.

Bradford took a peek at the comments again. He was doing the same with him as he did with Virgil, but he noticed Kamon went back to some other notes concerning him.

Truth and a lie. Can… can just sense it. Hidden feelings. Alcohol may be used to forget something more than just the destruction of XCOM. The sullen look is short in quick. He doesn’t like to dwell on it for too long. Family? Friend? Lover? Who or what???

Bradford’s brows knit together as his eye fell into a faint squint. Psionics. Has to be psionics. If so… this is on another level we’ve never experienced. The very thought was frightening. I may need to get Dr. Veer down here and— What the!?  He had taken his eyes off Kamon’s notes for just a second to shoot the doctor a message, but as he came back to the main screen, all that detailed observations about him had disappeared. He scrolled up and down through the notes several times, but all of those more intimate notes were more generic, and likewise for some concerning any potential health updates if the doctors cared to share.

He silently mouthed “The hell…” He barely reacted to Virgil nudging him and asking “What was what?” One more jab made him wave Virgil off and say there was an “error” as he searched a few more times, even going through the history log. Nothing was there but a small time gap. I know I just saw that. He looked back at Kamon. He had finished typing and was pouring himself one of the meads, but had a firm look on his face. One brow was raised.

He’s messing with me. Has to be. Even deleted the history log. How did he figure that out? Such a question was stupid. Kamon was always tech-savvy. Bradford reflexively glared back. An irritation was slowly growing. Why? Is this a test?

“Well, anywho.” Virgil shrugged, seeing whatever was going on was not his problem. “So, around year two, we have just rescued sum UN guy and you and the others were ‘bout ready to—”

The next second a harsh, sharp scrape of a chair sliding made him cringe, followed by a loud bang on the table — rattling the bottles and glasses — nearly made Virgil fall from his seat. As he looked over, he saw Brradford standing up with one mean glare directed at Kamon.  

Kamon stayed calm. “I don’t know what game you’re playing. I know you deleted some of your notes.” Bradford said. Irritation laced his voice. “I’m not dumb.”

The sudden anger stunned Virgil. “The hell you on about, Brady?”

Kamon just shrugged. That got a huff from Bradford.

“I’ve noticed your latest notes.” Bradford double-checked them to make sure he would say the correct things. “You want to know everything we currently know about your health? What the Elders screwed up and tampered with?”

Virgil grimaced. “You sure that’s wise?” Virgil whispered. “We’re still running tests on that and them docs don’t think it’s smart with how his heart raced when he noticed the missing appendages!”

Kamon slowly blinked a few times as his eyes slowly widened. He nodded.

Bradford shot Virgil a glare, which made the man raise his hands real fast and lean away. “Yes. He deserves to know. Especially with all the poking and prodding he’s endured without doctors.” In his heart, it felt right to defy those orders from the doctor. “And just maybe,” he paused as kept a firm glare on Kamon, “you’ll stop your damn games. You know more than you’re letting on. You’re remembering more than you’re willing to share.”

Kamon just tilted his head back and forth a few times before readjusting himself in his seat. That plain face was back once more. 

One more huff came from Bradford before he sat back down.

“Where do you want me to start?” Bradford asked, gruffly.

Setting down his glass, Kamon gestured to his missing arm and then leg. “››Any ideas?‹‹”

“Negative.” He said. He was expecting questions about his amputations would be a top priority. “We’re still trying to figure that out. We don’t know when or why it happened. Have some plans to hit some high-security data centers they may have kept you near to see if there’s any information pertaining to the amputations.” Such operations would take some time to organize since ADVENT would be more active to protect such information since they resumed the Commander. “It looks like the Elders had plans to replace it at some point. Not sure if it would be mechanical or organic, but looks like the former with how that foundation looks.”

Kamon let out a brief mhm as he touched his shoulder. It was currently covered, yet here and there he could feel the cool metal that was embedded in his skin. There was a faint resonance and tingle that pinged against his fingertips due to psionics.

He then turned his head away from them before touching the golden diamond-shaped implants lining the sides of his shaved head. Like his shoulder, he felt that tingle in his fingers and the skin around the implants. “››And these?‹‹“

“We’re still looking into that, but according to our doctors, more or so Dr. Veer, she suspects they are augments for your psionics.“ Bradford said. He didn’t want to imagine how that surgery went and the headaches that followed. “Which, you being a psion, is still a surprise.” A raised brow from Kamon told him he needed to explain. “Some tests have shown you had the markers that would make you a psion and additional tests show the Elders applied their trade of genetic manipulation to express and enhance them.”

Virgil chuckled. “Vahlen would have loved finding out about those markers when she was testing just about every soldier and important personnel.”

Bradford rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He missed the doctor, but remembered how the Psionics Division nearly got out of hand when the testing ramped up. “Kamon would not have let her stuff him into one of those coffins.”

“Well, I think he would have enjoyed a week’s nap.” Virgil playfully teased. “And then if he came out sparking, that would have been a plus. Probably help him keep the soldiers in check a bit more.”

“And Vahlen would have wanted to test the other three.” He shook his head. The thought of all four Commanders having psionic powers and using them to keep the soldiers in line made him chuckle. 

“How… interesting.” Kamon spoke. In English.

It took a second for it to register with Bradford and Virgil. Like I was any other person that said that, they reflexively answered with a “yep.” When it hit, they both froze with wide eyes and mouths nearly hanging open. Their attention was fully focused on Kamon.

“Did he…?” Virgil nudged Bradford. The man didn’t respond. He was looking intently at Kamon, who was busy pouring himself another glass.

Did he just? Is he just messing with us? “Did you just—”

“Spiced Firecracker.” Kamon said the name of the spicy mead. “A simple taste a first with hints of cinnamon before the complexity of the hot peppers strike leaving a slight tingling but satisfying burn at the back of one’s throat and tongue.” He then gestured to the other. “Then the Ginger Berry. A harsh bite at first due to the ginger before the wild berries rear their sweet layered hints to tantalize the tongue. It all goes down smoothly.”

Bradford had to keep his jaw from going full slack. Where was this coming from? Had he been hiding his ability to speak English from the beginning? He was about to speak again, but Kamon continued.

“Both are sweet. One with a hidden bite and the other much more upfront. Both can make you forget how it’s a slow poison if you indulge in it too much.” He swirled his drink a few times, watching the golden liquid twinkle under the medical lights, before downing it. Once the last drop went down, he suddenly slammed the wine glass on the table. A crack shot through the base of it. “Like the damn Elders.” Not only did he growl out the name with an intense hatred, his expression changed. Gritting his teeth, he had a firm sneer on his face, and furrowed brows accentuated his glowing eyes. “The Invasion and the ‘peace offering’. The bite and sweet lies.” He scoffed. He then began to tilt his hand back and forth and roll his eyes.

“Sweet, sweet lies that wormed their way into everyone’s psyche to forget ‘humanities greeting’ to the Elders that ‘tried’ to make ‘peaceful contact’ with this world.” He scoffed again as a series of curses in an alien language came out. “Sweet lies to condition the humans to Their rule. Sweet lies that the Elders would ’share’ Their technology and ‘teach’ humanity how to use it. Sweet lies to make you believe the new ‘truths.’ Sweet lies that ‘saved’ this world from itself. Toa’talos xa’vind… Vok’thalls xa’vind…”

Kamon finally stopped his rant. A psionic ping rang out as he teleported one of the bottles on the floor to his hand and began pouring himself some wine as soon as the cork shot off. While doing so, he was grumbling about the Elders’ fear tactics and how they reminded him of his “parents.”

“What the hell…” Bradford mumbled as his mind was still processing the rant Kamon went on. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy the man was talking in English, seemed to have more memories intact,  and was showing emotion, pissed because he was suspecting Kamon had been hiding things, or concerned that he was drinking much more than he ever had and was angry.

Virgil leaned over and whispered to him. “Think we may need together some psi shields. Can feel that angry prick at me.”

Hit took a second before he felt the same thing. It was faint but felt like thousands of needles wanted to have a go at his face. Then he noticed the faint energy wisps trailing from Kamon’s eyes. “Putting in a request.” He quickly shot a message and included Dr. Marin and Quinn that they may be needed.

With a full glass, Kamon downed it in under a minute and poured another glass, but didn’t touch it. He just swirled it around as the glow in his eyes ebbed and flowed.

“The lies… the lies… So many damn fear tactics those parasites used to control those who were forced to work on me.” He gritted his teeth. “Humans and aliens… sweating bullets whenever they had me under the knife or were plugging me in for another round of those tests, praying I wouldn’t die before they got me back into some system. I wonder how many of them got ‘rehabilitated’ since the process didn’t always go so cleanly.” His eyes closed for a second as a dark chuckle slipped out. “Tch. Can’t say that would be better than getting converted into a Hybrid. Either way, you’re dead in some fashion.” He grumbled as he leaned back in his seat. “Think I died a few times.” He let his eyes aimlessly wander around the room as he sipped on his drink. “Maybe a little more than five times? Eh? Eh?” He shrugged a little too casually for Bradford and Virgil’s liking. Bradford blinked a few times and Virgil turned a shade paler. “ Finally, someone with a heart and some sense came in to stop that. For being such a valuable ‘Asset’ those parasites didn’t exactly treat me like one. Guess They have the mentality of burning through it now and it can be ‘remade’ later into something much better. Tch.” He soon mumbled under his breath. “How did that go with remaking those two poor humans and so many others?”

“You died?” Virgil gawked.

“You recall all of that and dying?” Bradford was equally shocked. He thought Kamon crashing when they pulled that chip out of him was bad enough.

Kamon shrugged. “Yes and no. Can’t faintly recall some concerned comments from the ‘lessers’ that my brushes with death were growing in number.” And some days he wished said brushes would have taken him permanently. “Tch. When the one with the heart came around, I think he fixed me back up the best he could to stop that. Not that the Others cared as They wanted things done to me…” 

His voice trailed off as his mind lingered on that longer than he wanted. He couldn’t exactly recall why it was bothering him, but deep down, as a twisted knot formed in his stomach, he knew whatever the Elders wanted to do to him would condemn him to fate worse than death.

“Whatever that was annoyed the one that fixed me. Especially since the Others wouldn’t listen to him as he explained I needed to recover and that something was missing from me. Something that left me broken. Whatever that meant…” His voice trailed off again. That knot grew; he felt it claw its way up to his throat. He fruitlessly grunted in an attempt to clear his throat. It was something else that bothered him. He couldn’t make heads or tails of what the Elder meant by that,  but he felt it was true. Even now, he felt like something was wrong with his being. Like it was more than just his limbs missing and who knew the other tampering the Elders did to him. It was so much deeper than that, and it terrified him.

Before Bradford or Virgil could get in another word, Kamon went on a lung-bursting rant as he just let it all out. He swapped languages like a fast-spinning roulette wheel as he just cursed out the Elders and everything They were doing to the Earth, how poorly They ran things(and did he tear into their shoddy logistics and forgetfulness), and were unnecessarily cruel to everything They touched.

Bradford and Virgil had to take a step back as Kamon’s psionics became more visible around him and were crackling with intense energies. The psionic sensors went off.

“Yeeesh, where is all this coming from?” Virgil said. “Seemed like he couldn’t recall jack for days…”

“I thought I had some pent-up anger…” Bradford mumbled. He could recall a few times Kamon became angry back in the day, but nothing ever hit this level of vitriol he was displaying. His anger tended to be more on the calm side, which was quite deceiving hiding the broiling anger within. Just a slight sneer and the irritation seeping into his voice was enough to put fear into most of their soldiers and make the Council back off. 

“He’s been aware in that prison…” The very thought of that disturbed Bradford. More things to discuss with the doctors and Senior staff. “He was just… waiting... for the right moment. I think he trusts us now.”

It felt like forever for Kamon’s rant to come to an end and the psionics to dissipate. The two approached with caution, as his eyes were still glowing intensely. The Psionic Division still hadn’t arrived.

Kamon finished off his glass. This time he set it down softly, pulling his fingers slowly down the stem, tracing the creeping cracks, as a heavy sigh came out. His shoulders slumped down. All anger was gone. He looked tired and sad.

“Power hungry, greedy, parasitic ba-bastards.” One last curse slipped out followed by one more mumble. He always had trouble with that word. They’re dead to me, but I do wish they did not suffer during the Invasion. Same with my half-siblings. “Same with those two They broke and remade in Their image… The third born into it. And me…” He didn’t continue, but a grimace formed.

Seeing he was engrossed with his tumultuous thoughts, Bradford cautiously reached for the bottles. To his relief, Kamon did not respond with the usual teleportation nonsense allowing him to move them away from him. 

With hushed voices, Bradford and Virgil were trying to figure out how to break the silence. They were unsure if anything they said wouldn’t set Kamon off. Bradford figures some silence would be good to let the man cool off and could buy the Psionics Division sometime before they got here with the shields.

“John.” Kamon spoke again. An odd firmness and warmth flowed with the name.

Bradford quickly snapped too and looked at him. No anger. No annoyance. There was a smile on his face; no twitching on that side that had the older scars.

“Thank you for being truthful with me and being perceptive. Like you usually were back then, unless it was some new request from the Council and I was already in a sour mood.” He softly chuckled. 

Bradford’s eyes went wide. He remembers.

“Been a long while since I’ve had that since,” he gestured to himself, pointing out all the damage, “you know.”

Bradford gave an understanding nod before catching himself. “How long have you—” He bit his tongue. Refocus. He needed to tread carefully. Raising pressed hands together, he took in a deep breath before sharply hissing and dropping them. “So, you remember me now?”

Kamon nodded. “It took some time… to recall things… and you look and sound different.”

Expected. “Why reveal that now?”

Kamon closed his eyes and sighed. “Had to make sure this was real. Not some dream, me losing my mind, or…” His voice trailed off. He stayed quiet for a few seconds as he looked away. “Just had to test. Had to make sure it wasn’t…” His voice trailed off again. This time, he stayed silent.

“Damn…” Bradford shook his head. Something he needed to let the doctors know. Another layer of trauma that would have to be dealt with in therapy. 

“So, were you pretending you couldn’t speak English?” Virgil couldn’t help but ask that question that was also in the back of Bradford’s mind.

“Actually, I couldn’t remember how to speak it until recently.” Kamon let out a nervous chuckle.

“Seriously?” There was some doubt in his voice.

Kamon nodded. “My best guess is beside the chip you all ripped from my brain, the Elders probably screwed up something in here.” He tapped at those implants. “Or these… psionics.” He fluttered his hands, causing some energy to spark in between them. Unbelievable. “Now, I feel like I’ve got most of my language centers back.”

“Something tells me ‘recently’ was a few days ago.” Bradford said with a twitching eyebrow.

He only smirked, which got a curse out of Bradford.

Bradford leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. He felt several lifetimes of weight lift from his shoulders only for a fresh wave of annoyances and concerns to crash back down and needle at his mind.  He took a few more seconds to recompose himself before looking back at his old friend.

“You are an asshole.” Bradford wondered if they could have skipped all this nonsense if he was less suspicious. Yet, there was a part of him that understood. He could see himself pulling the exact same stunt or being more hands-on.

“I did have my moments back then.” Kamon said with no hint of guilt. Virgil laughed. 

“Glad to have you back.” And he meant it.

“I have a feeling you want to punch me.” Kamon caught a hint of a twitching brow on Bradford. He glanced at Virgil. “And same with you?”

Virgil raised his hands. “Not my rodeo, sir. I’m good!”

“That would be an understatement.” Bradford admitted. “I’m more happy that your mind’s not entirely shot.”

Kamon chuckled. “When I’m back on my feet,” he paused as he glanced down. That nub of a leg twitched. “You guys are cooking up some prosthetics?” 

He nodded. “Yes, for the leg, at least. The arm… That’s going to take more work.”

Kamon nodded. The leg was better than nothing. But he knew it was going to take a long time to adjust to both limbs missing. “Well, when I’m back on my feet, and health is fairing better, I’ll let you throw me around during training.”

“Heh, ha.” He grinned. “Don’t make such a tempting offer.”

They all laughed before silence took over. 

Bradford was hyper-focused on his tablet, updating files left and right. Virgil had left for a bit to take care of the empty bottles. Kamon was off in his own world, sorting through his thoughts until one just wouldn’t go away.

“John.” He said, voice a little faint and hesitant.

“Hm?” Bradford looked up.

“Am I… Am I the only one you guys found?” He asked.

It didn’t take much for Bradford to figure out what he meant. A pained sigh slipped out. “Yes. So far. Haven’t been able to check out the other bases except for one. Jynn and Thaddeus are MIA… Possible KIA for Jynn,” a sigh slipped out, just mentioning her, “as the area the Hunan base was located in is saturated with raw psionic energy. Even ADVENT doesn’t bother patrolling the area. No idea how the Australian base fared.” He still needed to put in a request for the Templars or Void Walkers to investigate those locations for them, especially the Hunan base. “We haven’t come across any data in ADVENT’s Network concerning them. But we could have missed or overlooked the files, as our focus was on finding you.” That was always a worry.

“Mhm.” Kamon nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment as his heart hurt for the two. “And Elli?”

Another sigh came out as Bradford’s shoulders tensed before dropping. “She’s assumed KIA. The Nigeria base has so far been the only one we’ve been able to visit…” He took in a shaky breath as the memory replayed in his mind. “Besides the cave-ins, there were a lot of bodies and blood there. Couldn’t find hers. Just found her nameplate ripped from her uniform, caked in dried blood. And her dog’s torn-up collar.”

“How… unfortunate.” He shook his head. Another pain hit his heart. “Elli was a good woman.” He looked down and away. “Same with the other two.”

“They were.” Bradford said.

“Can’t say I miss her devil dog.” Virgil cracked a joke. Bradford raised a brow and Kamon snorted. “What?” He squinted at Bradford. “That dog was creepy! It got around like a flippin’ ghost and just like to stand and stare!”

It took a second, but Bradford snorted. “Well, her dog was nice to me and only attacked the troublemakers.” He then mumbled under his breath. “She did have a habit of ‘exploring’ and getting into restricted areas.”

“Nyx.” Kamon said. The two looked at him with a raised brow. “Nyx, that was the name of her Dobermann.”

Virgil pulled at his beard a few times. “Sounds… right.” He wasn't so sure. 

“Nyx…” Bradford repeated, letting it roll off his tongue. He nodded. “Smart girl.”

“Terrifying silent demon.” Virgil hissed. 

Kamon snorted again. “I think you’d prefer her bite compared to Thadd slamming you into the ground or a wall. I think he broke a few soldiers ribs besides damaging their equipment.”

Virgil cringed. A memory flashed in his mind concerning some armor that had some alien alloy ended up with a sizeable dent and one experimental weapon broken in half after an incident involving pranking the Sub-Commander. Some of the staff wondered if Thaddeus had undergone secret Gene modding or had the Gene Modding team secretly spiked Thaddeus’ drinks with some Meld to make him as strong as a Muton. “Ya know what, that’s fair.”

Bradford laughed for a second, only for a longer laugh to follow as another old, but good memory came to his mind. 

“Besides breaking ribs, I swear, some days, Thadd was ready to suit up and jump into the cockpit of one of our jets.” Something else to lighten the mood. “Hell, he even wanted to take the Skyranger out for a spin!” He smacked his hand against the table. “Big Sky and the other pilots did not help with edging him on when ‘off-duty’.”

Kamon nodded as a wry smile appeared on his face. “He did miss flying and those knuckleheads didn’t help.  Thadd expressed repeated interest in taking one of the alien ships for a spin if we ever got around to reverse engineering one.”

Virgil snorted. “I remember that. Man, he was ‘bout ready to make a ‘surprise visit’ back to the Main HQ when he caught wind we were working on building one to truly take ‘em skies back from the aliens.”

————————

Their conversations switched over to Kamon wanting to be informed of what had happened all those years while he was imprisoned and how the remade XCOM was fairing. 

Before those discussions could begin, Dr. Marina and Quinn finally showed up with some help in tow. Those psionic shields were no longer needed, but Bradford took the opportunity to let the doctors know of the recent developments, much to their shock.

Kamon apologized for how uncooperative he was by not talking much once they could communicate for all these weeks. It was a mixture of him being suspicious but also defaulting to a state of least resistance he would take when he had those few more-lucid-than-normal moments when he was pulled out of the suit. He couldn’t recall if he ever had a moment of attempting to escape or did something, but he could remember the pain the Elders would bring, ripping apart his mind to silence it back to that small corner once more and force him back into that “sleep.”

That news was another disturbing development to be researched by the Communication and Information teams, and another issue to be addressed for his future therapy. 

After a few, not too intrusive tests and questions concerning Kamon’s psioncis, Bradford kicked the doctors out, as he could tell Kamon just wanted to talk and not deal with tests.

He got back to telling Kamon what had happened over the years and then answered his questions on who else survived the main HQ and sister bases.

The news was rather bittersweet to Kamon learning Raymond Shen was dead and Moria Vahlen was missing. He would have loved to have a conversation with Shen Sr. one last time. The man reminded him of his uncle. He hoped they would cross paths with Vahlen again and that the good doctor wasn’t getting herself and her cohorts into trouble, but hearing she was dabbling heavily into manipulating the DNA of captured alien subjects from what the information of the last correspondence with her contained had him concerned. 

He learned of a few more survivors who were on the Avenger and many who were scattered across the world trying to set up Resistance Cells, but were ready to join back up with the main crew when the time would come. 

 Some of the names Bradford mentioned sounded familiar to him, and others only drew blanks. That annoyed him, but he knew the most likely culprit to that was due to the Elders meddling. He just hoped his memory would eventually return concerning the others. 

————————

“Before we wrap up, I have one last question for you.” Bradford said. 

A few hours had passed, and they were finally concluding their conversation because Bradford felt they had discussed enough and didn’t want to overburden his boss. At the moment, he was helping Kamon get up so he could take him to his bed.

“Yes?” Kamon asked, brow raised. 

“What was with the drinking stunt?” He asked. “Like, seriously, why the alcohol and the teleporting?”

“I wanted to drink.” Kamon answered plainly. Nothing more, nothing less. “I’ve been stuck in that suit for 20 years or so and was parched.”

“Seriously?” Bradford didn’t believe him.

Kamon kept a plain face for a few seconds longer before he smirked. “Maybe that and I was testing things.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Bradford just shook his head. He felt like it was two-fold. He let his grip tighter around Kamon’s side, which made the man yelp.  “Well, you gave the doctors a headache and some damn heart attacks. You’re damn lucky the Elders didn’t screw with your genetic makeup like the Hybrids.” He lightly berated him. “Hybrid blood oxides alcohol into formic acid. You’ll go blind, then die.” Something they learned from the Skirmishers, which was confirmed when they did some investigations into their biology when hitting data centers.

Kamon just chucked. “I think They gave me an enhanced liver instead. I should be drunk right now, since I’ve barely eaten all day.” He could faintly recall his limit was usually about two and a half bottles of wine and the same with the mead. And he felt like some of the stuff he tried had a higher alcohol content than what he would usually drink.

“You should.” Bradford agreed. “You should…” His mind thought of all the biological functions the Elders may have altered for his friend. He prayed nothing was drastic, and it was all positive.

“Bet you would like my new liver.” Kamon joked, nudging him with his hip.

“Don’t.” Bradford let out an exasperated sigh. Mentally he agreed. It was a miracle his liver was still functional before he rejoined the remnants of XCOM. “You and Dr. Veer are going to become the best of friends to make sure you don’t pull a me. We don’t need any more alcoholics on the ship or for the Resistance, for that matter. I’m doing better, but still have my bad days.”

“S-s-s-orry.” Kamon only let out a wheezed laugh as his throat suddenly went dry. 

Once they were by the bed, Bradford set him down. He went back and fetched the tablet Kamon had been using. With a few taps here, and typing passwords there, he lifted some of the restrictions and disabled that link he set up so the man could have privacy.

“I’ll have to unlock some more files later, but here are some dossiers and other ready material so you can familiarize yourself with the ship.” He said as he handed the tablet to him. “And some logistical stuff you can look at... You can have fun double-checking our work.” His mind couldn’t help but recall that rant he went on earlier that was inside of his main rant. And it was right. If the Elders kept up with half of Their resources, XCOM wouldn’t have the Avenger. 

“A new ant farm for me to learn?” Kamon asked, not expecting an answer. He gave a quick look at some of the files and section names. He even opened up a dossier concerning supply drop locations. A brow slowly raised as he saw the litany of locations and the maps marked with various symbols. “Giving me homework already?” Bradford snorted.

A thought crossed Bradford’s mind. “Speaking of familiarizing yourself… how the hell did you know where to get the alcohol and glasses?”

Kamon tapped at his head. “Psionics. Can’t really explain it, but I can kinda ‘see’ or ‘feel’ the layout of the ship in my mind. It’s been kind of overwhelming until I learned how to tone it down. Another reason why I didn’t talk much.”

“Huh.” He wasn’t sure if could recall any of their psions back in the day being able to do that. But there was a lot of information he had to deal with and so much of it got glossed over or lost. “What about the ginger beer? Found that to be too on the nose.”

“Hm…” Kamon’s throat trembled, as he wasn’t so sure about that. “Maybe light mind reading?” He wasn’t sure. “I didn’t force myself into your mind. I just felt it.”

“That’s... interesting.” He never felt anything and only felt something when Kamon had his outburst, but even that wasn’t actively trying to pierce his mind. “The Psionics Division will have fun figuring that out with you.”

Kamon shook his head. “I just know Moria would be badgering me with tests right now if she was here. I can hear her saying, ‘you should have let us run those tests back then,’ right now.”

That made Bradford give a hearty laugh. “If… when we find her, I can see her doing just that.”

Bradford gave his friend a few hearty pats on his shoulder, told him he’d have the doctors bring him some food, and that he would be back later in the day before bidding him goodbye.

Until the doctors swung around with his food or for more tests, Kamon busied his mind by reading all unlocked files that dealt with the detailed workings of the Avenger and her crew. It felt like his induction into XCOM all over again. Those memories were a scattered mess, but he recalled having to read documents, upon documents, upon documents of information — with some having heavy redactions — besides having to quickly familiarize himself with how the organization should operate and those who would die under him.