I wanted to post this chp here as preview as well this is far from the last one go check the link in part 1 to see the rest of story its amazing
Hou Yi
January 22nd, 1980
"Madame President." Commander Miller greeted the new leader of the free world (or what was left of it) over the phone.
"Commander Miller. What's left of the CIA gave me quite the briefing about you and your little clubhouse. I don't know what you think you'll get from me."
Harriett Jones, the very recently ascended President of the United States, sounded like she hadn't had a proper night's sleep in weeks. Mainly because she hadn't.
Jack sighed. "Ma'am, that fleet is still up there-"
"And we're still down here, Commander. You want to delude yourself into thinking you can fight them, you're welcome to it, but I have actual work to do."
She gave an exhausted sigh.
"Do you know what I was before I got dumped into this bunker? The Secretary of Transportation. I've rubbed shoulders with enough logistics weenies in my time in that Department to be uniquely qualified to understand just how royally fucked we are."
"This country spans an entire continent, and it was all held together by one of the largest and most complex logistical networks in history. And now someone's thrown it through a woodchipper. I've got entire cities completely cut off from the rest of the country because all of the highways and railroads have been bombed to hell and back, and I can't repair them because two thirds of our qualified personnel were sitting in our major cities, which are now piles of rubble.
I've got mountains of food sitting in warehouses while my allies starve to death overseas. Because the ships that could carry the food were all blown to hell with the ports they were docked in, and the ships that weren't in port have nowhere to dock. We're the richest country in human history, we could feed the whole goddamn planet if we had to, but even our own people starve because we can't get the goddamned food to them!"
She gave a bitter laugh. "So, you might understand how I'm just a little too busy to go play spacemen with you."
Jack took a moment to absorb it all. "Ma'am, even if you work miracles and magically fix everything, the aliens can still just fly in and bomb it all into ruin again. We have to have some way to defend ourselves."
The caustic tone faded slightly from the President's voice. In its place was something with much more raw emotion.
"How? The military's heavy equipment and weapons were destroyed with the bases that carried them, along with most of its professional personnel. What do you want me to do? Have the National guard tear gas them?"
"We will do the fighting, ma'am. We just need your support. Even if it's just keeping your previous commitments: Access to bases and airspace, logistical support, and funding. That'll at least be something."
The President laughed. "We don't have any more bases worth the name, we don't have enough planes left to keep you out of our airspace even if we wanted to, we can't support ourselves logistically, nevermind you, and money became worthless the first hour after the bombing."
Jack sighed. It's not like she was wrong. "Just...lend us your support. We have a plan. If you back us up in any way you can, then it just might work."
"...Alright then, Jack. You're a hell of a lot more confident than my chiefs of staff, if nothing else. What does this plan of yours need from me?"
"At the moment? Nothing that isn't already being covered in the supply shipments. Not yet, anyway. However, there is one thing I'll want from you in the near future. Can I ask you…what's the Navy's status?..."
---
Premier Volkov took off his glasses to rub his eyes as he spoke on the phone.
"Commander, I've got damn near the entire population living through the Russian winter without heat or electricity. Millions are going to freeze or starve by the end of the year. I can't even feed my people, what the fuck do you think I can do for you?"
Well, this is some déjà vu. Jack cleared his throat. His Russian was accented, but otherwise fluent. "Premier Volkov, I'm not asking you for food, I'm asking you to maintain your previous commitment."
"You want to fly your magic jets through Soviet airspace, go ahead! I couldn't keep you out even if I wanted to. Why are you bothering me with this?"
"Premier, I know that things are bad right now, but we'll never be safe again while that fleet sits up there. We have to defend ourselves. My organization has a plan, I'm just asking that you-"
"Plan? What the hell kind of "plan" could you possibly have? Your whole organization's founding was complete lunacy to begin with, why should I trust you to defend us over our own military?"
"Because our only hope is in pooling our resources, now more than ever. Millions might starve and freeze now, but billions more will die if we don't stop the alien threat."
The Premier sighed. "...Forgive me. I went to bed as a mid level bureaucrat, and I awoke as the leader of the Soviet Union. It's been a little...disorienting. My government will keep our past commitments. You'll have Soviet resources. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Well, yes actually. There's an experimental plane I've been trying to get my hands on. The previous government was dragging their feet on it, despite the technology sharing agreements. I doubt the prototype survived the bombing, but any documents you can-"
The Premier burst out laughing. "A plane? I can give you a plane! I'll give you ten planes, haha! Just don't ask for any food or coal, I have none to give. I'll get whatever's left of the Air Forces to give you what they have on it."
"That would be very helpful, but it's not the only thing I need. You might recall me mentioning a 'plan' earlier. May I ask, where's the Red Navy these days?..."
—
Chief Scientist Doctor Edward Brown looked over the assembled department heads of the Xenonauts and gave a proud smile.
"I give you, the Hou Yi class SLBM upgrade package."
The projection he gestured to showed a diagram depicting a submarine launched ballistic missile with significant alterations made to it. The projectionist switched to the next image, a diagram depicting the missile being launched from a sub and into orbit, where it strikes a simplistic silhouette of an alien ship.
"With mass effect technology, the difficulties of achieving orbit are dramatically nullified, even for our comparatively primitive chemical propulsion systems. Because of this, even smaller launch platforms like SLBMs can conceivably be used to strike targets in orbit. With the Hou-Yi package installed, any SLBM can be turned into a surface-to-orbit missile."
There were more than a few skeptical faces among the department heads. Jack decided to step in and back Edward up.
"It doesn't seem like much. Not after what they did to us. But it's the first step on the road to bigger and better things. Any effort at expansion or development is completely crippled by the fact that our enemy can carpet bomb us with impunity. Our first and most critical mission is securing our low orbit. Everything else must come after that."
Edward nodded. "I won't pretend to have a clue about the enemy's goals or motivations, but, whatever their purpose may be, I'm still confident that they want this planet largely intact. The simple fact is that they can end this war at any time by de-orbiting a few large asteroids on us. But they haven't. They might want us dead, but they want Earth to be intact afterwards, and while they're able to execute precision bombardment upon us with impunity they'll have a very good chance of achieving that goal."
The gathering of Xenonaut leaders digested that information. Air Chief Ted Green was the first to voice his thoughts.
"Why subs instead of siloes?" he asked.
Edward nodded and answered. "The short version is that sub-based missiles are the only ones we have left in any significant number. The long version is that static installations like siloes are completely compromised if the enemy manages to locate them, whereas submarines can potentially reposition if the enemy manages to find them. Other mobile methods like trucks or planes could potentially be used, but they don't benefit from the incredible concealment of the ocean or the logistical longevity of a nuclear reactor."
Ted nodded his understanding.
Quartermaster Denisa Kvasnicka was the next to speak. "Where are we going to get the materials for this? Our supplies of alien resources are already stretched to their limit."
Ted voiced his agreement. "And it's unlikely we'll be getting any more anytime soon. We had an entire month without a single UFO sighting while they took their little vacation in Lunar orbit. Even after they started back up, they don't send anything down here without a sizable escort now. What few victories we've had have come from us committing our entire air wing to one target."
Eric Wilson, commander of the Xenonaut combat teams, added to Ted's point.
"And even with that victory, our actual material gain was minimal, since the aliens bombard the crash site of every UFO we manage to take down. Our troops haven't seen real combat since before the bombings."
Edward thought for a moment before answering. "Well, fortunately, the materials requirements are not that substantial for this package. It's essentially just a crude imitation of an alien mass effect field generator using human technology. It's not even close to being as powerful or effective as the alien version, but this has benefits. While there are many potential improvements that could be made using other alien materials, we've designed the base model in such a way that the only thing it needs that we can't produce ourselves is element zero, and element zero is one of the few materials we can still harvest from bombarded alien wrecks. It's doable, it will just take longer than we'd like."
Jack chimed in as well. "Keep in mind, we're fast-tracking our heavy interceptor design as we speak. We can more reliably engage these larger groups of craft they've been sending in once we have that in the skies. I've read the specs for this upgrade, and it's doable. We've finalized the talks with the nuclear-armed states, so we'll have access to the submarines when we need them. Once we have those missiles deployed, we'll have a way of deterring precision bombardment. Our first priority has to be securing our orbit. We just can't fight this war when the enemy can bomb us at will."
—
March 28th, 1980
Captain Franklin Williams leaned against some railing, watching as Xenonauts workers labored to get the first submarine in the Xenonauts fleet armed and ready for battle. In the early years of the Xenonauts, when funding had been plentiful, many resources had been poured into the main base of the organization. Ludicrously expensive and obscenely elaborate facilities had been constructed, from missile tubes, to underground hangers, and even a small submarine hangar. As the years passed and funding evaporated, unnecessary facilities such as those had been decommissioned to save on personnel and maintenance costs.
However, now that the organization effectively had a blank check from every major government in the world, the Xenonauts could afford to start restoring their home to its former glory. The base was located in Iceland (which had seemed like the obvious choice to the organization's founders, given the proximity to the initial invasion site). The entire facility was built into the side of a remote cliff along the coast, dug deep underground to minimize the chance of detection.
The first facility to be restored had, naturally, been the compact underground hangars, which were what had allowed the organization to launch its aircraft in secret. However, given the current plans, the new focus of the restoration effort was on the submarine hangar.
To Franklin, the cramped little hangar he currently stood in seemed more like something a particularly campy Bond Villain would construct than a supposedly professional organization like the Xenonauts. It led to an underwater tunnel, dug into the side of the cliff. Supposedly, the idea was for the submarine to dive and enter the tunnel, then make its way up the very long and incredibly cramped shaft that led to the actual facility.
The base had been designed with the comparatively scrawny American George Washington and Soviet Project 629 submarines in mind, and even for them it had been a tight fit. For the much larger submarine in front of him, it had been quite the challenge to get the boat up safely. Franklin was not looking forward to getting the thing back out when he took command.
The submarine was PCU Ohio, intended as the first of a brand-spanking-new class of submarines the United States had been planning. It had only been launched less than a year ago, and it hadn't even been properly commissioned yet. Things being what they are, it seemed likely that it would also be the last of its class. Still, it was arguably the most modern submarine currently in existence. It was the perfect choice for the first sub to be equipped with these shiny new Xenonaut missiles. President Jones had forked it over easily enough. The US Navy officer in him made Franklin feel a little prickly about that, but the man who had watched his homeland bombed into ruin by aliens won out in the end. It's not like we were using it for anything, anyway.
The thought of his new President made Franklin amused. He was still a good distance away from the mantle of "elderly", but he was no spring chicken either. If someone had told him in his youth that he'd live to see a woman in the (metaphorical) White House, he'd have thought they were crazy. Of course, on the list titled "things Franklin Williams never thought would happen", she was at the absolute bottom, given the times he lived in. And besides, she'd done about as well as anyone could ask of her, all things considered. She was the one who'd dragged his sorry ass out of retirement and sent him to join the freak show that was the Xenonauts, but he didn't hold it against her.
He was quite convinced that everyone in this circus act he'd been press ganged into was completely delusional. The fact that they honestly seemed to believe that they could win was all the proof Franklin needed of that. Any man who'd seen the alien bombs fall ought to know that mankind was on its way out the door. Still, he was a recently un-retired US Navy Officer, and his president had ordered him transferred to the Xenonauts, and Franklin was far too set in his ways to disobey a direct order from the President, even a lady President.
And, well, if the Xenonauts were right and these fancy bombs could knock one or two of the bastards who had murdered his entire family out of the sky, that was more than good enough for Franklin. Even if he still thought it was all for nothing.
—
Jack looked at the map with the most recent intelligence reports with Intelligence Chief Todd Sterling and the Chief Scientist. He grimaced and looked at Todd.
"A new one, relatively close to the Aluetians. That's at least five confirmed bases in the northern hemisphere now, and a dozen total."
Edward nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised if there were more. The bases are a net-positive for us, though."
Jack looked at him expectantly, waiting for the explanation.
Edward provided it. "Well, it will solve our resource bottleneck, won't it? We've already completely exhausted our trickle of Element Zero equipping the Ohio, and even that trickle is effectively cut off, since the aliens have tightened security even more. Raiding one of these bases is our only realistic chance of getting our hands on a usable amount of resources any time soon."
"We don't know that for sure." Jack said.
Edward shrugged. "Fair enough, but in my opinion these bases and the tightened security can mean only one thing: the aliens are digging in their heels. If they're allowed to operate with impunity they will, eventually, find us. And if they find us it's game over. There's just no way anyone else besides us can effectively fight back, especially since the bombings."
Todd nodded. "I agree with the Doctor. These aren't little supply or research outposts, they're the foundation of a proper long-term military base. I'd bet all of the worthless money in my wallet that they're going to start ramping up offensive operations soon. What that might look like, I haven't the faintest idea, but those bases are where they're going to project power from. We need more of their resources, their tech, and any intel we can get our hands on, and those bases are where we're going to get it."
Jack steepled his fingers, closing his eyes for a moment, then opening them. "Alright, let's say we do it. What happens when they notice? They'll just bomb the base if we actually manage to take it."
Edward smiled. "Which is where the Hou Yi missiles come in. This will be the perfect opportunity to demonstrate our surface-to-orbit capabilities. The whole point of it is to deter precision orbital bombardment, not to shoot down every single ship in orbit. As far as I'm concerned, the sooner we reveal that we have the weapon, the better"
Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose. "So, we attack one of these bases that we know nothing about, steal everything that isn't nailed down -assuming our troops don't get massacred- provide cover with the Ohio, and then hope we get the opportunity to shoot an enemy ship down."
"Yeah, that's pretty much the gist of it. Although you forgot the part where we also have to hope that the enemy backs off when they see our new weapon, rather than just…you know, bombing what's left of our civilization into ruin again." Edward said.
Todd shrugged. 'Seems like business as usual to me. As far as I'm concerned, if Hou Yi doesn't work, we're finished anyway. Might as well get it out of the way now."
Jack stopped rubbing his nose. "You know what? Sure. What the hell, I kind of like it. We'll get the department heads together and draw up a plan. However…"
"Something the matter?" Edward asked.
"Which one do we attack?" Jack said.
"The base by the Aluetians is our best target, in my opinion." Todd said.
"Oh? How'd you come to that conclusion?" Edward said.
Todd grinned. "Well, for starters…it's on an island."
—
On a little scrap of turf in the far north which barely qualifies as an island, a small alien outpost sits. From the murky depths surrounding it, divers climb out of the water, leaving their small submersibles behind. They quickly checked each others equipment, and then went on to business.
"2, take 5, 3, and 8 up that hill for overwatch. Eyes peeled, if they have any brains there will be sentries up there." X-1 commanded, gesturing to the rocky hill he was referring to.
"On it." X-2 said, moving to hike up the hill with the other three men spoken of.
X-1 moved off as well, the rest of the Xenonauts following him. X-1 wasn't fond of this terrain. Barren, totally devoid of any brush or other ground coverings. He and his men would have to go prone to get any kind of concealment. The fire team of Xenonauts crunched their way off of the stony beach and around the hill that the other half of the squad was setting up on.
X-2's voice came over the coms. "This is Overwatch, we're set up here. No sentries. Outpost doesn't look like much, just some pre-fab buildings, maybe half a dozen. We see a few Geeks and Froggies milling around, there's a handful of other individuals, don't recognize the species. Jesus, these ones are ugly. …No sign of any Witches."
The squad breathed a collective sigh of relief at that. No one was looking forward to fighting one of those nightmares.
"I count about twenty foot-mobile Xenos in total. At least half of them are armed. Mostly the Geeks and these new guys." X-2 finished his report.
As they came around the hill, it was not long before the alien outpost was in view for the assault team as well. X-1 was once again baffled as he observed his foes. They were just…loitering. Between this current idleness and the fact that they didn't have anyone watching the very obvious vantage point over their base, X-1 once again found himself…unimpressed.
These clowns leveled the whole god damned world?
It was hard to reconcile the rank amateurs he seemed to encounter on his missions with the conniving evil masterminds who had slaughtered hundreds of millions of people.
He observed his enemy some more, however this time he wasn't looking for answers. He was looking for targets. A big chunk of them were grouped up nicely, playing some sort of game. Space dice? It didn't matter. All that mattered was that they were huddled around it, nice and tightly.
"8 and 2, send them some presents. 3, you start spraying at the same time and don't stop until everything stops moving. 5, drop anyone who's armed and looks something resembling alert while the grenades are flying. Everyone else, drop the runners and outliers. Clear?"
A chorus of affirmative responses were sent back to him.
"Wonderful. 2, 8? Whenever you're ready."
He got into a firing position with the rest of his fireteam. It wasn't long before a thump was heard. A barrage of several 40mm grenades went sailing into the assembled group. They detonated, and chaos erupted. The gun of every Xenonaut began spitting out bullets. Another volley of grenades went out, this time spread out evenly among the scattered remaining aliens. By now, some of the aliens had gathered their wits, and began shooting back.
Reinforcements came for the aliens as more of them came running out of the barracks. They began hastily throwing on shield belts and other gear. Shields began to flare around them, and the human bullets became noticeably less effective. The aliens started to rally, advancing and focusing their fire on X-1's fire team, who made a fighting retreat behind the hill. However this advancement caused the aliens to group up again, and another volley of grenades struck, killing and maiming many.
More importantly, it shattered what little cohesion they had managed to obtain, and their return fire became wild and disorganized. Barriers flared and broke as X-5 began picking his targets. Bombarded by rifle shots, withering machine gun fire, and lethally accurate sniper fire, the aliens broke and ran. However, they were quickly rallied by a large figure which had emerged from the main outpost building.
"Rally" may have been the wrong word. "Frightened" was much more accurate. The figure casually murdered two of the routing aliens, and the others seemed to get the message, gathering around the figure. The huge creature began firing some sort of alien shotgun, and the pellets it spewed out forced the overwatch team to take cover.
The creature spotted the assault team and began charging toward them at an alarming speed. The assault team opened fire, and the beast's shields flared a strange color, and seemed to be impenetrable. Undeterred by the gunfire, the beast's body flared purple, and a wave of power sent the assault team flying.
X-1 stumbled to his feet and saw X-7 unloading his shotgun into the oncoming creature, to seemingly no effect besides making its shields shine. The creature's fist flared purple, and then it slammed it into X-7's chest. The man was sent flying back with a sickening crunch. X-4 and X-6 regained their footing and unloaded what was left of their ammunition into the alien. It swiveled and fired its shotgun into the pair, sending them to the ground as the pellets shredded their flesh.
Before it could swivel back around, the alien's shields flared again as X-1 emptied his rifle into it, dropped it, and then pulled out his side arm and emptied that as well. It roared, wheeling around to open fire…only for its shields to buckle as X-5 placed a tight grouping of shots into its back.
The big alien fired wildly from its shotgun, spasming and coughing up blood before it finally collapsed to the ground, orange blood pooling around it. X-1 took a moment to put another magazine into his handgun before talking into his headset.
"7, 6, 4, sound off! Who's still sucking down air?"
Before anyone could reply, the alien lurched to its feet, roaring.
"What the fuck!" X-1 shouted, rapidly emptying his pistol into the alien, who simply ignored the bullets tearing through his flesh, charging madly.
It tackled X-1, and began savagely beating him. X-1, in between brutal alien punches in the face, managed to get his fingers on his knife. His brain was rattled from the punches, but he still had enough presence of mind to stab the huge alien in the throat. The alien gurgled, pawing at its exposed airway. With great effort, X-1 managed to roll the big bastard off of him. With another painful effort, he drove the point of his knife into the alien's eye. He didn't stop pushing until the alien went still.
When it finally did, he rolled back over, collapsing onto his back.
"1? Boss, are you alive?" X-2's voice came out of X-1's headset and managed to navigate its way into his swimming head.
"...Yeah." He managed to croak out.
"Good to hear. 5 and 3 are popping the stragglers. 8 and I are coming down there. I'm calling in the recovery guys."
"Sounds…great." X-1 said, with difficulty. Then he passed out.
—
A flight of helicopters swooped in, and the Xenonaut recovery teams came flooding out. They gathered up everything and everyone. Alien cadavers, the self-sabotaged remains of their weapons, and the dragon's hoard of alien materials and supplies in the outpost's warehouse. Normally, they'd strip the base clean (and probably even take the base itself for the material), but the aliens' orbital domination meant that they were on a time crunch.
The Air Wing had its AWACS birds running an improvised communications jamming OP, but there was no guarantee that it would actually work. And even if it did, all it took was one wayward telescope on any ship in the alien fleet deciding to look at the base for the Xenonauts' cover to be blown.
A pair of recovery techs were rummaging through a room in the outpost's main building.
"This looks like someone's private quarters. Probably whoever was in charge of this shit show." One said.
The other grunted, too focused on his task to give a real answer.
"What have you got there?" The first one asked.
The recovery tech pulled out a big…case? It appeared to be made of some kind of leather or synthetic-leather material. It didn't have some sort of fancy electronic lock or other technology on it, just a simple metal latch that kept it closed. The second tech, his curiosity overriding protocol, flipped the latch and opened the case. He turned to the first tech and grinned.
"Oh, I'll tell you what I've got. The motherfucking jackpot."
He stepped out of the way, revealing what looked to be an alien magnetic accelerator gun sitting in the case, pristine and, if appearances were to be believed, functioning.
The first tech gave a grin of his own. "Dr. Brown is gonna dance a god damned jig when he sees this."
The second laughed. "Hell, if this is the genuine article, I'm gonna dance a jig."
They both chuckled, only to be stopped short by a message in their headsets.
"All recovery teams are ordered to recall immediately, possible retaliation bombardment incoming. Repeat, all recovery teams recall immediately-"
"Well, shit. Grab anything that isn't nailed down and then let's get the hell out of here!" The first tech said. They rushed to do just that.
—
Aboard the Ohio, Captain Franklin Williams did his best to keep a cool head as the orders were read to him. The orders to fire. Every functioning space-observing station in the hemisphere was locked onto the incoming UFO, feeding targeting data to the Ohio. It was now or never. Either this would work, or the war was already lost and everything else was a formality. Frank cleared his throat, and nodded to his XO.
They both readied their keys and prepared to launch.
—
Above the atmosphere, the UFO arrived in low orbit and maneuvered itself into a firing position. Before it could even start, a missile broke every atmospheric speed record, reaching orbit breathtakingly fast. The missile was a complete surprise, which was why it worked perfectly. The distance from surface to orbit was tiny compared to the distances more typically traveled in space. By the time the UFO's automated systems detected the incoming weapon and switched the point defense array on, it was already detonating.
The nuclear explosion fried the relatively small UFO's hull and the force sent it flying off, its wreck taking on a new orbit that would send it careening into the north pole. Power grids on the planet below were fried, light radiation made its way into the atmosphere, and the Xenonauts had spent one of their incredibly scarce missiles. Yet it was still a small price to pay.
Because now humanity could shoot back.
—
XENOPEDIA: MiG-32 "Foxtrot"
The MiG-32 "Foxtrot" is a derivation of the experimental Soviet MiG-31 "Foxhound" interceptor. Originally designed to intercept supersonic NATO bombers, the Foxhound has the immense speed and climb rate we will need to catch fast UFOs and the additional firepower required to deal with heavier alien craft.
Naturally, we will be modifying the Foxhound to make it more effective against extraterrestrial craft (hence the updated "Foxtrot" designation). The airframe can be reinforced with the same laser-resistant coating that has improved our Condors survivability against alien point defenses, whilst the fuel tanks will be enlarged to increase the range of the interceptor. We only have three prototype models at our disposal right now, and due to the crippling of Soviet (and global) heavy industry by the bombings we're not going to be receiving much in the way of replacements. After the initial three, we'll have to put together any new ones by hand in our workshops. As you can imagine, this process will be neither fast or cheap.
Nevertheless, once successfully converted, the Foxtrot will be a formidable tool in our battle against the aliens. It can carry either six Sidewinder missiles, or two of the heavy air-to-air Avalanche "torpedoes" we've cooked up as a way of damaging the larger alien craft. Unfortunately, the Foxtrot does not possess anything in the way of a gun, and its agility in combat leaves something to be desired. Its only real tactic will be to close with the enemy, expend their munitions, and then retreat from the combat zone. It would be wise to have these planes be escorted by Condors when possible, but given the dramatic difference in both speed and range it is unlikely that they'll be able to accompany them as often as we'd like.
We can begin conversion of the Foxtrot in our workshops immediately. I would avoid spending too long down there, though - I feel like my IQ drops a dozen points every time I visit our resident ogres.
—
XENOPEDIA: HOU-YI Class Experimental Surface-to-Orbit Missile
Just like it's mythical namesake, the Hou-Yi is built to shoot the stars right out of the sky. The Hou-Yi is less a testament to our engineering talent and more a testament to just how potent a force the Mass Effect can be. Even with our comparatively primitive propulsion technology, the ability to increase or decrease an object's mass means that previously impossible speeds can now be achieved with minimal effort.
While humanity's submarine launched nuclear missiles were never intended to actually enter orbit, the massive increase in acceleration that the mass effect provides means that it only takes a pittance of fuel (relatively speaking) to achieve orbit, so SLBMs suit our purposes well enough. However, a purpose-built surface-to-orbit missile is still, of course, a desirable near-future goal. With the influx of new resources coming in who knows what will be soon be possible?
—
XENOPEDIA: Alien Autopsy - "Goblin"
Well Commander, I think we've found our second alien from the Iceland incident. It certainly fits the description. Which is to say, it is a ghastly looking thing. Appropriately, our troops have dubbed it the "Goblin".
At first glance, nothing seems particularly out of the ordinary about Goblins, but when looking at the cellular level it rapidly becomes clear that this is far and away the most truly alien creature to be put under my scalpel. Its countless clusters of non-differentiated cells give it a level of regenerative ability that gives it more in common with a Planarian worm than a terrestrial animal. Indeed, even in death these cells still continue on in fruitless regeneration efforts. Without a live specimen it is difficult to say how far these abilities can go, but I'm reasonably confident in saying it likely surpasses anything on Earth.
Fortunately, despite its abilities, these aliens are as mortal as anyone else, If our troops put a bullet in its brain it will be no less dead than a human.
—
XENOPEDIA: Alien Autopsy - "Rhino"
Of all the nicknames our troops give to our foes, I think this one fits the best. It is an apt comparison, as this alien is effectively a living battle tank (Though admittedly Rhinos don't typically come with telekinetic powers).
This alien is so difficult to kill that I almost suspect genetic engineering is at play. Multiple sets of redundant organs, bones that rival steel in their strength, and to top it all off you have to kill it twice for it to stay dead. Indeed, this alien has a redundant nervous system, as our unfortunate troops discovered. Fortunately, this creature is still perfectly capable of dying, it's just a question of how many Xenonauts it will manage to kill before it goes down. For combat, the best advice I can give is don't. Hit it with a rocket. Or perhaps an airstrike.
Just make sure you do it twice.
—
XENOPEDIA: Alien Weapon (Intact)
It seems Lady Luck has finally woken up from her coma, because we've caught a break, for once. We have recovered a fully-functional example of an alien magnetic accelerator. Why it wasn't sabotaged like all the others, I can only speculate. My best guess is that this was some kind of heirloom or sporting weapon or otherwise "civilian" model. The handmade case and the fact that it is almost completely lacking in all but the bare minimum in terms of electronics is what guides that suspicion.
Whatever the reason, this has been a boon for our research. For starters, we finally have a tool we can use to test armor and other protective measures with something resembling accuracy. Now that we have a working example to experiment with, it's quickly becoming clear that our lab-made test accelerators were woefully inadequate in terms of providing an accurate ballistic model of our enemy's weapons. No mass accelerator we can currently build can come close to simulating this one.
Which leads me to a more discouraging point: I fear that developing weapons comparable to our enemies is much further away than even our most pessimistic estimates. Everything, from the impossibly-efficient batteries to the precision laser used to make the slug to the mass accelerator itself is many orders of magnitude more advanced than our closest equivalent technology. Having a working example has only made this gap even clearer. This weapon is the product of an entire manufacturing base, one which we simply do not possess.
It is not all doom and gloom, fortunately. While I can't build weapons like the ones the aliens use (or at least not yet), I can build new weapons with our existing technology using what we've learned from studying this one and a generous application of the Mass Effect. Already my team is spewing out more ideas than we can fit on the chalkboard. I'm confident that we will have substantially more potent weapons and more protective armor for our troops in the very near future, we just need a bit of imagination