#xcom central

“Obsession.” He growled at that word. How he had come to hate it. Them searching for XCOM’s old leader was not an obsession. The Commander was out there somewhere. Jynn Gresham Reeves was still alive. The aliens had her. He just knew it. 

“I know they mean well,” a grumble left his lips, “but this is important.” 

He had to admit he appreciated the crews attentiveness as there were times he went days without taking a proper rest or eating a meal, especially when new intel regarding the Commander’s whereabouts were involved. Time would slip away without him noticing. He needed to work on that. Can’t run the resistance half dead, though somehow he had been managing to do that off and on throughout the years. Always on the cusp of burning himself out. But a few things kept him going. She was alive. He just knew it.

His eyes drifted over to a nearby clock.

03:45

“Hm.” A slight grumble left his lips before he grabbed his nearby mug and sipped on some water. “Probably should expect Dimitri poking her head in her in a few hours. Tch. Dimitri…”

Dimitri Akram. A rather interesting communications officer he had been training since their faithful encounter several years ago. A bit of a bullheaded teenager then that tried stealing from a scouting operation Bradford was leading with her group of scavengers. How bold they were to attempt to steal from them as everybody was awake, but their attempted distraction with a fake ADVENT patrol was smart. 

“Boy, did she have a mouth. And I thought Volk could curse up a storm when frustrated.” He couldn’t help but chuckle as he thought back on the memory. 

How he was surprised to hear so many curses  come out of her mouth when he grabbed and pinned her down. Especially curses in Russian and Georgian. Such a thing weird hearing all of that come out of a Somalian’s mouth, but many people had been scattered around the world because of the Invasion.

“But we got a few new crew members that day and helped relocate some people to a safe Haven.” Always a positive to get new crew members and help people out. “Still surprised she wanted to join us, but was rather grateful that she did. Got some interesting alien tech her old group had managed to get their hands on.”

At first he wondered why Dimitri joined them after everything. Once she joined and he got to know her, he understood why. But at the time he tried his best to get her to stay with the Haven they moved them to but she had a few tricks up her sleeve. The biggest being that stash of alien tech and that strange headset she said only worked for her. A deal they just couldn’t refuse.

“Took awhile to sand down those rough edges of hers, but she’s grown into a damn good communications officer and fine young lady. Your parents would be proud. Especially him.”

 There was some friction when she joined and he and the other trained her, but oddly the job came quick to her. Everything just clicked quickly, especially if alien tech was involved. Made them wonder if she had been experimented on. But not in the way they thought.  

As he trained her, a bit of an odd older brother, little sister relationship blossomed between the two. Dimitri could get away with certain nicknames Bradford wasn’t particularly fond of. Johnny. And then she could pull off a few pranks he would have punished a regular crew member for. He still needed to get back at her for the latest one.

“That Viper corpse springing up from behind the bar was terrible.” Though he still fairly pissed about that, he laughed at the little incident. At least he didn’t have his gun on him that night. “Hm?” Something caught his eye. A notification on his screen.

“IMPORTANT!!!” The notification read. Hopefully it was. A click and he opened it.

“Got some new information for you, Central. Looking like the real deal. Curtesy of the Skirmishers. You know the passwords for the usual files. - Graphite.”

“Real deal?” That definitely caught his eye. Alliances were paying off. “Let’s see.” Time to put away the happy memories. He had work to get back to.

A few clicks and typing and the intel was up on his screen. Data logs from the Skirmishers, photos of various facilities of importance, strange looking stasis suits, and other things.

“Let’s see…” Another grumble came from his lips as his eyes scanned the data logs to get a quick idea of what was going on. “Wait…” Something caught his eye. “What!?”

>We think we found evidence your Commander exists. Alive.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. It felt like they had been chasing a ghost for so long and it looked like the Skirmishers had found the proof they had been looking for years. Vindication, one could say.

“Where are you? Where do They have you?” His focus was fully on the data logs, attention occasionally shifting to the images when referenced in the logs.

>Location unknown. The Elders are hiding her well. But we keep up the search.

Words he didn’t want to see, didn’t want to acknowledge, but he wasn’t surprised. At least they were closer to finding her. She was still alive.

>The Templars theories may be true. Another Kracsad of the Elders. Several clans reported sluggish responses from our enthralled brethren when we got closer to the truth. Responses are back to normal, but we have noticed this pattern several times. From the latest, the Elders did not like our capture of Dr. Y’von Tau and respective, but failed, raid on a psionic communications hub. Something was there. May have been her.

A theory he wasn’t exactly fond of(and something kept secret to all except the Senior staff.) The aliens using the Commander against the resistance somehow. But it made sense with how ADVENT countered the resistance’s tactics so effectively. XCOM’s tactics. And that scared him. He hoped it wasn’t true.

“May have been… her… dammit.” He hated the thought they may have missed herby a sliver, but they had to keep searching.

>Will be contacting the Reapers to do scouting inside of the cities where we cannot reach, even with “semi-active” chips. Promising leads from defectors within the cities. Information on the peculiar suit we found. Similar but different from the other stasis suits we know of. Not like the interrogation suits we have plucked captured allies from.

“I see I may be talking to Volk soon. Don’t need heads butting.” He wanted to make sure there was full cooperation with the Skirmishers for those scouting missions. Looks like the Skirmishers were onto some good intel.

Now the comments on the stasis suit caught his interest. He wondered what was so special about it. There was a note that the Skirmishers would be included the surviving scraps of one in one of their trades. Had an ADVENT ambush to blame for damaging it. Better than nothing. As soon as they got their hands on it, he knew their scientists and engineers would tear it apart. 

“At least they got some photos of it before that ambush.” He muttered as he studied the images. “Designs similar to some of the interrogation suits, but some things are different. Additional internal interfacing ports …  extensive external and internal life support… traces of MELD and other substances… hm.” 

The more he read about the suit, the less he liked it. And the more it pushed the Templars theory to the forefront of his mind. The Elders were keeping something or someone sustained in that suit.

“Hope your Geist and seers are wrong about that, Jeriah.” The leader of the Templars and liaison came to mind. He wondered when he would meet the former. Why the secrecy? They were helpful but secretive bunch. 

“Great…” He let out an annoyed sigh as he closed the files. He leaned back in his chair. Promising stuff, yet there was the risk it would lead to dead ends. “May be changing some plans to push this to the top. Hopefully, this leads somewhere.” Hope. One of the few things that kept him going on the quest to find her.

He rubbed his face a few times before going back to work. Meetings needed to be moved, he needed to share this info with the Senior staff, and needed to get in contact with Volk and Betos. Those would be fun discussions on putting together joint operations for the city scouting.

————

The hours ticked by as he continued working. Formulating what he would say to Volk and Betos. How his people would back them up. So much work. He didn’t even notice the door to the room opening or the sound of footsteps. Or blue glow.

Blue glow.

Or perhaps he did. Somewhere in the back of his brain he was expecting Dimitri to show up with another staff member and usher him to bed. But he didn’t acknowledge them. He didn’t want to. This promising information just had him wired to work.

“John.” Yet a faint, echoing voice tickled his ear. 

“Wait…” He froze as a chill went down his spine. It was female, but it wasn’t Dimitri’s. He knew this voice. “No, no, no…”

Against his better judgement, he turned to see who it was.

“Impossible…” He couldn’t believe his eyes.

A ghostly visage stood at the entrance of the room. A ghostly visage of the Commander. Just like the day he last saw her. That pristine military uniform from the old days. But it was like a faint echo of her. Glitching. Fading in and out of sight. Surrounded by a blue glow.

“J-Jynn?” There was hesitation in his voice as he rose from is chair. Cautiously, he made is way over to her. Were his eyes deceiving him? Was this her?

“Jynn?” He asked again as he was halfway to her. “Is that you?” A hand slowly reaching out.

“Find me.” Her form flickered for a moment. Suddenly changing. That pristine uniform was now tattered and torn. Stained with red. Blood spurting from her nose as two slashes suddenly appeared on it. One on the bridge and the other just below it. 

He stopped dead in his tracks as soon as that occurred. What happened that day began to replay in his mind. The base being attacked. Her capture. “No, no, no. Not that day…”

“Find me.” She repeated those words again. This time it came out pained.

Her form flickered again. Changing. Naked. Head shaved. Eyes and body trembling. 

 “No, no, no.” Bradford took a step forward, but something made him hesitate. She looked like a test subject, like one of the unfortunate victims of the abductions back in the day. Never a pretty sight. This can’t be real. One of his biggest fear was finding her on one of those alien surgeries, cut open and pulled apart. This can’t be real.

“Find me.” 

Her form flickered again. This time there was a suit on her. One of those interrogation suits from the looks of it. Various tubes connected to the ports on the suit. It looked familiar. 

“No…” Bradford’s eyes went wide. No, it was that stasis suit from the images. “No, no, no!” That theory couldn’t be true.

“Jynn!” He cried out. His body willed itself forward. He needed to get to her. Save her.

Though he moved forward, she was always just out of reach. Like the very room had extended between them. Stretched out. A gap where he felt like he was barely even moving.

“Find me.”

“No, no, no.” He knew what was coming next. He didn’t want to see what came next. She looked bad enough. She couldn’t get worse, could she? 

“Don’t think that.“ He couldn’t let the darker parts of his mind win.

But she did.

The suit disappeared before his eyes. Her appearance worse than before. That healthy physique was no more. She was looking thinner, gaunt, one could say. Barely any fat on her body and no trace of muscles. And now there were incision scars and ports all over her body. That familiar orange of that MELD leaking from the ports.

“Dammit no!” He worse nightmare was coming true.

As she continued to repeat those two words, that stasis suit would disappear and reappear; little changes would happen to the suit and her. With each flicker, her form would grow worse. More incisions. More ports. Her body withering away. As if each successive upgrade to that damned suit was eating away at her.

One particular flicker made him stop dead in his tracks. It was more disjointed than the others. A mess of shapes and that blue glow. Never coming back to make a clear picture of her. And oddly growing in height. Soon towering over him. Something about it made his hair stand on ends. It just wasn’t right. Something about it felt wrong.

“Find me. >Find Me.<“ She spoke again. Voice like a spitting viper. So harsh and interlaced with that Elder speech. 

“What the hell.” Every fiber of his being was telling him to get back. Something about how she spoke, how she sounded, felt wrong. Reminded him too much of one thing. Technically, three headaches for the Resistance. Those damn Chosen.

“What the hell are They doing to you?”

The disjointed form didn’t last long. Never fully coming together, it slowly shrank back down. A new form came together. But when she flickered and came back, she looked her worse.

“No…” He started moving again. “Jynn, just hold on!” Though gap made it a pointless endeavor. So close, yet so far.

“Find… me…”

She was now an emancipated corpse. Barely clinging to life. Struggling to stand. Struggling to speak. Oddly, those incisions scars and ports were missing. Diamond-like marks were scattered on her body.

Could she be? “No, no, no…” He didn’t want to acknowledge the thought. “She’s still alive, I know it. She can’t be dead.”

“Find… us.” 

Though something was different. Another voice joined hers. It sounded male. Faint and just as pained. 

The blue glow around her intensified for a moment as something started to form just behind her. A tall, lanky four-armed being with several bulb-tipped tendrils. Once formed, it kneeled down, wrapping its arms around the Commander.

“What the!?” Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Was that an Elder? Anger flared for just a moment, renewing a vigor in him to get to her. The gap seemed to disappear with each stride he took.

 But as quickly as that anger came, it faded as he processed the new figure’s form. “Who is… What is this?”

Though its form was so close to the Elders, something about this four armed thing was different. Whatever it was, it looked to be as much distress as her. It almost looked like it was trying to protect her.

“Find… me… Find us.” The two spoke in unison. Voices intertwining into one.

As this new sight came too, it soon began to fade.

“No!” He was almost there. Just a few more steps.

 The blue light growing dim and their forms began to distort and flicker away. She, and it, reached out to him.

“Jynn!” He cried out, reaching out in return. “Wait!” He was nearly there. She was just in arms reach.

As he took another step, as their fingers almost touched, everything went dark. 

So close, yet so far.

————————

“Jynn! No… wait!” A startled but groggy cry came from Bradford as he shot up straight. 

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” He found his chair rocking violently, almost falling backwards before quickly catching his foot on one of the desk’s legs to pull himself back down. 

“What the?” His head darted back and forth. “Jynn?” Eyes scanned the room. Empty and quiet. No sign of her.

“Damn it.” A sigh came from his lips as slumped down in his chair. One hand vigorously rubbing his face. It was all just a dream. A nightmare. “That one again.” One he wasn’t fond of.

With the grogginess rubbed away from his eyes, he looked at the clock.

10:40

“Tch.” He grumbled. “Wonder when I crashed.”

He turned his attention to the computer, tapping at the keyboard to wake it up.

“Oh.” His eyes lit up. All the intel from that nightmare was there. “Well, at least I didn’t dream up the intel.” Something good, but it barely brightened his mood. It must have influenced his dreams.

“Where was I?” He quickly scanned through what he was working on. Drafting up a message to his Skirmisher contacts about the stasis suit.

“Stasis suit…” He mumbled, if not growled out the words. He wasn’t sure why, but he brought up the images of the stasis suit from the intel.

With the images back up, he studied the design. Brief flashes of the suits the Commander was wearing came too is mind. They looked so similar. The one the Skirmishers found could have housed her.

“So close…” He grumbled, eyes closing tightly. Did the Skirmishers almost come across her during that raid?

“So close…” He drew his hand to his face, fingers curling tightly into a fist. What was causing the distance in that nightmare?

“So. Damn. CLOSE!” That fist swiftly came down on the desk in a rapid succession, knocking a few things off the desk. 

“So damn close.” A pain whispered left his mouth. Tears streamed down his face. Why? Why?

His head hung low, elbows perched on the desk as his hands covered his face. Thumbs vigorously rubbing his temples. So much information to process. And the nightmare wasn’t helping his thoughts.

“Why these nightmares?” He had become fairly use to the various nightmares he would have off and on. He had been dealing with them for years before he found the remnants of XCOM and got some proper help. Dr. Veer worked her magic with some wonderful, but irritating, therapy for him. 

“Why this one?” But the therapy didn’t work for all the nightmares. Especially anything dealing with the day the base was attacked and the Commander’s capture. And the one that just occurred had to be one of the worst recurring ones. It felt far too real to him. Like she was actually there. Distant, but calling out to him. 

“Why?” Was he losing it? He didn’t know anymore.

He rubbed his face a few more times before slightly lifting his head. His eyes drifted over to the clock.

10:58

“Should go to the Bridge soon…” He muttered.

His eyes shifted back to the monitor. Still had to finish those messages and get them sent out. But that damn suit. He could just see her in it. So broken. Just a living corpse.

A grumble left his lips as he closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“I need a drink.”

————————

11:10. The Bridge was humming with light activity. The crew there were hard a work with their usual communication and planning tasks but were enjoying the light ADVENT activity in the local area. They always savored those moments. Made is easier to get in contact with the locals and do some trading and recruiting.

Dimitri was at her station going over some message from the locals. Updates on how the havens were doing, cells they knew passing on the locations of some resource caches, and then potential people wanting to join their cause.

“Hm, should check out that cache. I’ll send this over to Corvo so he can put together a team.” She commented.

“Hm?” A little ding made her look at the top right of her screen. A notification.

“Oh boy.” She didn’t like what she saw.

“ALCOHOL CACHE OPENED. TIME: 11:35 ”

“Oh boy.” She pulled her back into a grimace as there was a slight nervous hitch to her voice. “Where is he?”

She clicked on the notification.

“ALCOHOL CACHE HIDY HOLE #4.” 

“Oh boy…” She didn’t like that. That was a section that had an access hatch to the Deck. “What has him going to that and there are this time?”

She tapped at her lip a few times.

 “Hm…” 

She couldn’t ignore this. But didn’t want to inform anyone about it just yet. Popping up for a quick check on him wouldn’t hurt. If he was in a bad state, she would just get Corvo or someone to drag him back to his quarters. Or to the doctors…. Doctors would be best. Especially a talk with one of the therapists.

“He definitely needs to talk to Dr. Veer if he’s at that cache…” She sighed. She had to go check on him. Didn’t need him disastrously drunk and slipping on the ladders leading to a busted skull. Or in a poor mindset and anywhere near the Deck.

“Hey, Orion!” She waved over to one of her fellow workers.

“Hm?” A man wearing a florescent orange headset looked up from his station. Blinding bangs swayed back and forth.

“Need you to take over my duties for a bit. Sending the info over.” She quickly did that and shut down her station. 

“Uh–”

“Need to check something out. May be gone for an hour… or more.” That hint of nervousness reemerged.

Raising a finger, he was about to protest, but paused. Head tilting to the side, his mind processed what she said and that slight hint of nervousness trailing her words. He grumbled a few words, but nodded. “I can. But you owe me, Dimitri!”

“Ya, ya!” She waved him off as she got up. “I’ll put in triple time!”

With that settled, she started to make her way to where Bradford was.

“Perks and cons to having those caches.” She sighed. Some days she wondered if they should get rid of them when he got like this. But they did come in handy when the bar started to run dry. Nobody liked it when the bar ran dry.

“Wonder how many bottles I’ll trip on this time.”

——————

“Why did you have to pick this one, Bradford?”

Dimitri couldn’t help but grumbled as she ascended a ladder, pausing for a moment to open a hatch before continuing. She was never fond of cache number four. Having to climb two sets of ladders and sometimes the hatches didn’t like to open. Especially if somebody purposefully jammed them so their “drowning their sorrows” sessions would go undisturbed.

“But seems like you’re not in too foul of mood.” 

She had noticed the first hatch wasn’t jammed, nor was the second once she reached it.

“But who knOWS,” she let out a huff as she pulled herself up and closed the second hatch, “if that door is unlocked…”

The door. Her eyes fell upon the door on the other side of the dimly lit room.

“Wait…”

There was something different. Something about the door looked off. Her nose wrinkled.

“Whiskey… Is it cracked?”

She couldn’t be smelling the alcohol already. But the place didn’t red of it. It was just a hint. There was a sliver of light peeking through the middle of the split door. Each side twitched ever so often, trying to close, but something was keeping it from fully closing.  She cautiously made her way over. 

Once closer, she noticed a pipe on the ground. That was keeping the door ajar. 

“Hm.” Why?

Her gaze shifted over to keypad as her fingers were making motions to type in the override codes to keep the door open. But she paused. What is his current state? A quick peek wouldn’t hurt.

She shifted her gaze back to the crack, leaning closer to get a quick look.

“Huh?” The sight confused her. She was expecting to bottle strung about. There wasn’t a single one. From what she could tell, the cache was open and could barely see the legs of Bradford. He was sitting. Maybe a good sign.

“At least he’s sitting, but why am I smelling that whiskey and see no bottle?”

Knowing she didn’t have all day, she finally keyed in the override code and the doors slide open. She kicked the pipe to the side so the door could fully close behind her.

“Uh…”

This was a different sight than what she was used to. No bottles littered everywhere or alcohol spilled. Just one bottle was open, sitting right in front of the cache. And Bradford wasn’t a mess from a quick glance. Though one thing was familiar. Bradford was in one of his usual positions. Sitting across from the cache, hunched over, hands on his head. He looked fine.

“I haven’t taken a single sip.” He finally spoke. Acknowledging her presence. Voice clear, no hint of a slur. He didn’t move a muscle to look at her.

“I see.” Dimitri nodded as she stepped into the room. So far so good.

“Just want the smell of it, not the taste… yet.” And that taste was calling.

“I’d very much prefer if you stayed sober. Well, everyone would.” 

He let out a gruff chuckle, only for a sigh and grumble to follow.

Taking a moment, she found the cap to the whiskey and closed it before placing it back in the cache and closing it. No need for that temptation to be out. She then moved over to him, going over to his right side.

 “So…” She carefully looked him over, trying to gauge his mood. There looked to be hints of tear-stained cheeks covered by his hands. Oh joy. “What’s eating at you?” She asked as she leaned against the wall.

Bradford took in a sharp breath before letting out a heavy sigh. He dropped his hands, but didn’t look at her. He had been crying. Some fresh tears were running down his cheeks. “I had that dream again.” He shook his head. “Tch… who am I kidding? More like a nightmare.”

“Uh,” she raised a brow, “you’ve told me quite a few nightmar—”

“Find me.” He said. Voice and body trembling slightly. “Find me, John.”

That tremble in his voice made her pause. Eyes going wide. Crap, not that one. She was all too familiar with that nightmare. Explained the tears. Probably the worst of the worst for him.

Pressing her back against the wall, she slide down it.  A hand was soon on his shoulder.

“Same as last time?”

“Same…” A weary nod. “Maybe a bit more vivid with the way I see her and it.” It. What was that thing? Something familiar but unknown to him. Another worry for his mind. “And some things are… disjointed. Very disjointed“ 

He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her what he saw. He was still trying to make sense of it all. The experimentations looked to be getting worse with each nightmare and some stages were missing. 

“Really it’s feeling more like a ‘vision’ every time it comes around… I’m just not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.”

“Hm.” More of the same? But seeing his old friend more vividly. More like a vision?  That was a new development. Unless he had been keeping that from her so she didn’t worry.

“Hm.” She could barely imagine how he felt having such a recurring nightmare. Though with how much he was trembling — besides the tears still coming — he must have seen something worse than usual this time.

What to do? What to say?

“Maybeeee…” She searched her thoughts, unsure of what to say. “Then someone came to mind. “Call up Jeriah?” Their Templar liaison. She had recently sent a message to them. “Get one of them Templars to see what’s up with the nightmares?” It was worth a shot. Especially with that vision comment. “Maybe there’s some meaning to them?”

Bradford finally turned to face her. Eyes were bloodshot. And he didn’t look too pleased at her suggestion. “I rather not have one of them pick at my brain.” He didn’t exactly hate well-intentioned people with psionics, but hated how those powers felt after being on the receiving end of a few Sectoids. “Already get annoyed with how Dr. Veer digs with her questions.”

“It was just a suggestion!” She leaned away for a moment. “And you should talk to her too. I’m not a therapist. I have my own issues, ya know. Dead parents, kidnapped foster dad, alien tech in my brain, and what not.”

He sighed when she said that. “I know, kid. I know.” He looked away. She really shouldn’t be the one to continually hear about these nightmares of his. Especially when he was at his worst.

“Jeriah…” Maybe they were visions? The very thought worried him, frightened him, really. But the nightmare had been pretty consistent throughout the years, growing more and more vivid over time. And if they were, how long had she been calling out to him? “Maybe… maybe…”

“Hm?” She leaned closer. “Maybe…?”

“Maybe it is about time I got some outside help. Outside perspective. Make sure this nightmare ain’t a ‘vision’.” He let out an unsure sigh. Hopefully, it wasn’t one. “Nothing Veer’s done has really helped this one. It’s just gotten worse over the years.”

A smile appeared on her face. “Want me to draft up a message for ya?”

“That would be nice.” He wasn’t in the mood to do so at the moment.

“Though you’ve gotta fill out all the nitty gritty bits that I don’t know.” And truthfully, she wanted to keep it that way.

“Right…” All those details. He was going to hate having to remember every single one.

Hearing that sigh again, Dimitri pulled him into a hug, patting his back several times. She couldn’t imagine all the troubling thoughts swimming through his head.

“You’ll get better, brother. And… we’ll find her.”

“I… I hope so.” 

There were a few more pats, followed by a tight squeeze, before she finally let him go. With the hug over, she hopped to her feet. Still seeing that long face on Bradford made her shake her head. How to cheer him up or at least put him in a better mood? Didn’t need him grumpy the rest of the day.

“Ah!” She snapped her fingers. “I think you need some time in the gardens.”

“What?” He raised a brow as he looked at her. “I don’t think that would help much.” 

“Memento putting you to work should take your mind off some things.”

“Really?”

“Rather that than you being grumpy in the Bridge or being near alcohol.” A slight growl slipped from her lips at the mention of that substance. She eyed that cache. Maybe she could get a lock for the thing.

Alcohol. He eyed the cache himself. Part of him still wanted a taste of that whiskey. But one drop of that stuff not would definitely lead to him spiraling. “Fine. I’ll go to the gardens.” She was right in more ways than one. 

“Good!”

Dimitri stretch out her hand. He grabbed it and got up.

“But first you’ve gotta wash up. You look terrible!”

He rolled his eyes at her comment. He knew he looked terrible. Probably just a bit worse than that. “I’ll be sure to clean up before every sees me.”