Chapter Text
Ah jeez, I’m runnin’ laaaaate…
The sliding doors of the ADVENT research facility opened for Dr. Gordon Freeman as he hastily walked into his workplace. This wasn’t the first time he had come in late to the job, and more than likely, it wouldn’t be the last. For as good a scientist as Freeman was (in his own estimation, anyways) his attitude towards his peers was questionable at best and outright dismissive at worst, and his attitude towards his work mostly consisted of him being able to get a free oxycodone prescription.
Even in alien-occupied New Mexico (now City 19), a totalitarian state in every respect, man’s old vices still came through. Still, he kept his job for two reasons. One is that the research and development work he was doing (the overall goal of which was still mostly unclear to him, but ADVENT paid him well for it) was good work. He was a smart guy, a PhD in theoretical physics, clever since he was young. He was seven when the aliens took over Earth, but scientific education was still a thing, especially when the aliens needed it for their own projects. So in spite of his attitude, he was very good at his job.
The other reason…
I wonder if ADVENT’s security gets paid. We need translators to understand them, but do the aliens have any actual concept of money where they’re from? I mean, they obviously know what money is now, we get paid for working for them. Paid good, too. I have a good memory, I remember what the old world was like, and I remember my dad barely making five figures a year. I haven’t seen my parents in a while, actually. Or heard from them for that matter…eh, whatever, they’re fine. Just gotta get to my office, get some oxycodone, and zone out for the next six hours. If I was fired, I’d know it by now anyways.
Rushing past his co-workers, none of whom he really bothered to get to know, he made it to his desk. Raising an eyebrow, however, he looked at the contents confused.
What the hell? Why’s all this stuff on my desk, and whose is it? My nameplate’s on here, but…a bowling certificate? Baby pictures? Blue poncho? He checks the drawers. What the fu- where’s my stash?! Did someone steal it? Is this some kinda prank? Aw man, if someone found my stash, that means I’m caught. I’m gonna get reported to the ADVENT higher-ups. Probably gonna-
BOOM!
…What the hell was that? That was an explosion. ADVENT still keeps some old movies available. I’ve watched Die Hard fifty times. I know what an explosion sounds like. Alarm’s going off now, too… Aw man, wait, I bet I know what caused that. One of the morons over in the other sector probably fucked up an experiment, again. Goddammit, first the stuff on and in my desk gets swapped, then some moron screws up an experiment! This day is just weird so far…well, might as well go see if I’m right. I bet I am.
Freeman’s assumptions about the competency of his peers was nothing unusual, but jumping to conclusions like this definitely was. If his desk hadn’t been clearly tampered with, he might not be as stressed out as he was right now, and thus might’ve clocked that something else was going on besides a botched experiment. Unfortunately for him, though, he didn’t.
Still, it’d be a lie to say he wasn’t at least a little bit suspicious, despite what his inner monologue attempted to convince himself of. Stepping out of his office and into the hallway, Freeman nervously went down to where the source of the explosion was. One of the doors on the left-hand side had been blasted off its hinges, so it wasn’t hard for him to find it.
Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen something like this in real life! I mean, on the news, sure, but…wait, on the news? Like those XCOM guys-
The lights go out the moment Freeman steps into the center of the room, a boisterous high-pitched voice coming from one side of the room. “Strike him down!”
“What the fuck-” Freeman found himself beset upon and assaulted by two people he couldn’t see. “Hey! Cut it out! I have a doctor’s degr- oof!”
He was on the ground in three seconds, a swift blow to the back of his head knocking him down. The last thing Freeman hears before falling unconscious is a timid voice going “N-Nice work, LCB-03…let’s get out of here…”
Okay people, listen up…today we’re talking about fermions. Fermions have a half-integer spin, NOT a full-integer spin, those are bosons…
A bright light greets Freeman as he slowly comes to, an unamused, slightly older man in a white and blue soldier’s uniform staring him down with his arms crossed. “Oh thank god, finally…Central, the VIP’s up.”
“Excellent work, Suit.” comes another, more authoritative voice from nowhere. “Now time to see what he knows. Don’t be too rough with him unless he’s uncooperative.”
“...I…wh-what?” Freeman looks around to find he’s in a holding cell, dingy but clearly military in nature. His hands are tied behind the chair he’s in, and the soldier in front of him is holding…a crowbar? He comes to his senses. “Hey, listen man, I don’t have any money and my family doesn’t either. We can talk this out!” A massive lie.
“I’m not interested in money, you piece of shit. You’re part of ADVENT’s research division, you obviously know where they’re keeping the prime specimen.” Suit brandishes the crowbar. “Now tell me, or this is gonna take off your goddamn jaw.”
“Suit, what did I just say?” Central pipes in again.
“We’re not gonna get anywhere if we play nice with him.”
“He clearly doesn’t know who we are. He thinks we’re trying to get ransom money.”
As the two men argued, Freeman struggled in his seat while trying to think of a way out of the predicament he now found himself in. C’mon, Freeman, remember every single James Bond movie, all the times you’ve watched them are about to pay off…wait, prime specimen? What’s he…wait, he must be talking about that thing the division three cities across from us is keeping. Does he think I know about that? I guess whoever these guys are, they’re planning on stealing it. Probably to sell it, or…wait a minute. Freeman takes a look at the uniform the man with the black parted hair is wearing, then takes a look at a logo conspicuously plastered on the wall outside his cell.
Ohhhh, these guys are XCOM! Yeah, I was watching the news about these guys. …Shit, that means they’re probably gonna kill me. …Ah, fuck it, might as well be honest with them in that case. Not like I’ve got much to lose, now!
“Uh, guys?” Freeman tries to pipe in, Suit and Central still arguing with each other on how to conduct the interrogation.
“This guy’s probably bugged, anyways! Did LCB-11 even check him when he and that annoying girlfriend of his grabbed him?”
“Suit, we checked the VIP thoroughly for anything and we found nothing.”
Wait, thoroughly? …Ah, never mind. “GUYS!” Freeman finally gets their attention, clearly annoyed at the comedy routine he’s now become a part of, let alone being held captive. Suit gets ready to smack Gordon upside the head with his crowbar, but he thankfully gets one more word in. “Yeah, I get what you guys want now, I’ll tell you everything!”
“...Huh, seriously? Is this some kinda trick?”
“I got nothing to lose by lying to you guys, seriously. I only worked at ADVENT ‘cause they paid me well. If you want insider info, I’m fine as long as you let me live.”
Suit looks at him, perplexed. Central adds his input. “Hear him out, Suit. I’ve seen enough interrogations to know when someone’s telling the truth or not.”
The soldier keeps his grip on the crowbar, clearly staying cautious in case Freeman was about to lie. He wasn’t. “You guys want the prime specimen? Being honest, I’m not even sure what it is, but it’s in a research facility in City 22. I know that much, at least. I’m not even sure why they told us, it’s not like our division was working with it, or even knew what it was. I mean, I’m a physicist, ADVENT was just having me do stuff like analyze subatomic particles. Y’know, sometimes I wonder if ADVENT’s higher-ups, you know, the Elders, are actually super incompetent. Like, a lot of the way they run things doesn’t make sense. But then, if that’s the case, that means humanity lost to a bunch of aliens that were also really dumb. So it’s like, what the he-“
CLANG!
Suit hits the wall with his crowbar. “Alright, holy SHIT! You gave us the info we needed, great, now please shut up! Central, we got what we needed, what happens now?”
“Hold up!” Freeman pipes back in. “Yeah, I talk a lot, but that’s because I’m usually the smartest person in the room! I have a doctor’s degree, dickmunch, I can talk as much as I want.”
“I can still rip your goddamn jaw off with this thing, y’know. You just gave us what we needed. Actually? Keep talking, I changed my mind. Keep talking. I dare you. Keep fucking talking.”
“Suit, enough!” Central overpowers the argument between prisoner and soldier, and directs his attention towards Gordon. “Look, Dr. Freeman. It’s clear you aren’t loyal to ADVENT at all. We figured not every scientist that worked for them was brainwashed, but you…honestly, I’m curious. Why were you working with them?”
“…Uh, money?”
Suit looks like he’s going to snap Gordon’s neck. Central continues.
“Dr. Freeman, I’ve got an important question. Would you like to join XCOM?”
So…guess my life’s completely different going forward. Damn, this feels weird.
It was an easier choice than either Central or Freeman knew. He’d stayed in the brig for a week as a precaution on XCOM’s part and he certainly complained about it, but he’d already made his decision. Today, Central came to open the cell.
“Dr. Freeman, you’re up. Good. Follow me.”
The way I see it, I’ll be working for people that actually appreciate my talents. They did mention they’ve got a science team, so that must be where Central’s taking me. They said this is some kind of ship? They must’ve stolen this place from ADVENT, I guess. No way XCOM has floating bases just lying around. I have, like, no faith at all that this is gonna go anywhere, the aliens have way more resources than us, but it’s either this or go back to ADVENT and they put me in prison or kill me for snitching. So…I’m delaying the inevitable, now that I think about it. I gue- oh, huh. We’re already here.
Central had led Freeman to a large, slightly crowded room, several men and women conversing. One man with a thick Russian accent complains of how hard it is to find some vodka with ADVENT ruling the world. Another short, orange-haired girl describes how much she misses old internet message boards.
Huh. Weird science team.
A bald man in a labcoat with a scar on the back of his head turns toward the two and approaches them. “Ah, Central. Don’t mind me, I was just gathering some data from the soldiers’ weaponry. We’re getting ready to look into modifying them, so I needed to get a closer look.”
“No problem, Dr. Tygan. Just don’t tamper with any of it as is.”
“Of course not.”
Freeman crosses his arms. “So, you’re the head of the science team here? I’m Dr. Gordon Freeman. I’ll be working with you from now on, so you’d better treat me with the respect I deserve. Honestly, I’d be surprised if I’m not the only one on the team with an actual degree, so really, I should be the new head.”
Tygan blinks. “He’s smart, but he’s just like this. Get used to it.” Central says, trying to ease the immediate awkward tension. “Dr. Freeman, welcome to the Armory. Your new workplace. We’ll show you to your living quarters later, so-“
“Whoa, hold on. Do we not even have a lab? We have to work in the same place that the soldiers do? What the hell? This operation is even more fucked than I thought. Maybe this was a mistake... Ah, whatever, I can work with this.”
“We do have a lab, Dr. Freeman.” Tygan replies. “It’s just that you won’t be working in it.”
“…I’m sorry, what?”
Central finally clarifies to Freeman why he brought him here. “Truth be told, we were gonna put you on the science team at first. But the fact is, XCOM’s a guerilla operation and we need all the manpower we can get. I brought you to the armory because you’re our newest operative. Welcome to XCOM’s ground unit, Dr. Freeman. Or should I say, Private Freeman.”
“…what?”