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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 5009683" data-attributes="member: 143">Interlude: Vasily (June 10, 2008)"I can go now?" The orderly nodded. "Yes, sir. Try to take it easy for a few days." Vasily nodded, and began limping out of the medical wing, though he doubted there would be any taking things easy in the near future.  Things were moving fast, and troubling news seemed to come from every quarter. The base was on edge; the stand-off with the alien saucer proved beyond a doubt that the aliens knew where to find X-Com, and worse, that they knew what kind of defenses the base had.  The saucer's dancing in and out of missile range was too precise to be coincidental.  Whole military bases had been annihilated by alien attacks; he wasn't sure how X-Com would fare, because he wasn't sure exactly what the aliens could bring to bear. They still had hidden strengths, of that he was sure.  His gloomy thoughts that the sectoids might simply be scouts seemed to be more and more likely; the confrontation with the massive snakeman and his high-bore alien weapon proved that much. But then, what did this new change mean, he wondered as he limped into the cafeteria and stared at the chalked-up menu.  Were the snakemen a form of vanguard?  Or, a curious part of his mind wondered, were they literally something new the aliens had brought up?  Were they making new soldiers out of snakes? They seemed so different from the sectoids, and a possible answer for the alien obsession for attacking and experimenting on animals and humans swam into focus. They are trying to find the best way to kill us, and are using our own planet's animals to do it, he mused, buying a tuna sandwich from the subdued-looking chef.  It was only a guess, but it felt right to him, felt appropriately sinister and menacing enough to be alien.  Maybe he was wrong; but perhaps the inevitable autopsy of the dead snakeman would tell them more. He limped out into the corridor, munching away to the sound of banging and drilling coming from the workshop to his right.  The sheer scale of the dangers the agency was facing was only becoming clear, and deep down, Vasily wondered if the new weapons and equipment were doomed to come too late.  He wandered away, industriously chewing, shaking his head. And then, of course, the most worrying development of all, he thought, as he wandered past the lift guard posts and into the rec room.  A saboteur. He had wondered if it had not been an agent of some rival organization or government, but after thinking about it, he had to admit that was a short-sighted guess.  Such an agent would likely be there to gather information, and attracting attention to him or herself by sabotaging what was really a sideline project seemed rather counter-productive.  But then, the alternative was that someone in X-Com really was working for the aliens, and that was unthinkable.  Either by choice or by some kind of coercion, either possibility was terrifying. Or, even more chilling... they made their own little sectoids, Vasily thought unhappily.  Can they make their own humans now too? He sighed, nodding and giving a half-hearted wave to the X-Com members in the rec room as he marched on.  One problem at a time; he was a soldier, a counter-insurgency unit, an expendable asset.  The others could look for the saboteur; Buzz, Cat, Jane, it was their arena.  For him, work was about killing the sectoids and now their big snakeman cousins, and possibly wringing the neck of the one betraying X-Com after they found out who it was. But the snakemen were bigger, and scarier, and though bigger challenges called for more extravagant efforts, having the right gear helped too... He had come to the training ground, where some members of Alpha and Beta teams were hanging around.  He nodded in greeting, but he knew why he was there. He walked up to the big Icelander, Sveinn, and gestured at the insane rotary cannon by his side. "Hey," Vasily asked, "You mind if I have a go?" The big bruiser seemed only too happy to hand it over, with a slightly mocking grin as the Russian struggled with the weight.  There was laughter from the onlookers, some polite, some raucous, as the recoil sent him tumbling to the floor.  Grimacing, he picked himself up again. If any of you are the traitor I would enjoy shredding you with this gun - just not right away, he mused as he rubbed his shoulder and tried to grin along with everyone.  Maybe it was time to upgrade his own firepower after all.</blockquote>

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