Phalanx: Molon Labe

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

The X-Men receive a call from Val Cooper, relaying a request for help from the Greek government. A military experiment has gone out of control on an island the X-Men know very well.


"Been a while since Cooper called us directly," Scott said to Kurt and Sam as the elevator opened on the X-Men's sublevel. He stepped out first, looking back over his shoulder at the other two with a faint smile. "Wait, last time there was a nuclear bomb in San Francisco, wasn't there? Suddenly I'm so very not reassured."

"It's not like she couldn't be callin' socially or somethin'," Sam mused, attempting to keep a straight face. "Okay, Ah'm totally lyin'," he said, shaking his head. "It'll be somethin' she needs our help with. Ah just hope there's no nuclear bomb this time. That'd be great."

"Yes, I think we can all agree on that", Kurt said solemnly. "No nuclear bombs." He wasn't brooding about what had happened on the nuclear-bomb mission. Not at all.

"It says something profoundly disturbing about us that our minds immediately go to the worst-case scenario, you know." And they were going to start thinking he was a pod person, Scott thought, what with the joking and all. He paused at the door of the Situation Room. "Everyone have their 'yes, I'm a serious professional' face on? Good. Let's see what the lady wants."

The video screen in the Situation Room was already lit up when they entered, the seal of the US Secret Service filling the screen. As the three X-Men sat, it vanished, replaced by a head-and-shoulders view of an unamused blonde woman.

"You should be receiving files now that were forwarded to us by the Greek government," Val Cooper began without so much as a polite salutation. "It seems that something like a ghost from the past has reared its head again. Their equivalent to our Joint Chiefs of Staff has asked for your help specifically, since you were rather useful the last time you were there."

The screen split, showing Cooper on one side and a familiar rocky island coastline on the other. "Youra, a small island off the Greek coast. Formerly a training base for Mistra, it's since been reclaimed as a cultural research facility, where archaeologists can classify artifacts in reasonable solitude."

Scott quite literally blanched. Youra? What the fuck? He bit his lip hard to hold back any kind of immediate reaction. Realizing that his hands had clenched into fists below the end of the table, he forced himself to relax. Of all the things he'd expected to hear from Cooper today... No, Scott, you may not think even for a moment that you would have preferred a nuclear bomb...

Scott's hands weren't the only ones that had unconsciously clenched into fists at the name of the island. Many of the X-Men had memories of Youra, and most of them, unfortunately, were like Sam's, of the people who hadn't made it out alive. "If it's a cultural research facility, what are we needed for?" he asked dully, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Kurt's face was set, and a paler blue than usual, if anyone could tell. He currently had a list of names running through his head, but he tried to ignore it and looked to Cooper for the answer, silently.

Val's face took over the screen again, flat and impassive. "When the Mistra facilities were demolished, the Greek government seized most of the materiel and property from the island. And apparently a research think-tank managed to recover some data from the computers, specifically subconscious training methods. And they've put them to use, although not as initially sinister as we might think."

The screen split again to show what seemed to be stock footage of Greek Army soldiers training on an obstacle course. "This think tank has developed a device that can transmit radio waves directly into the brain to instill a set of instincts and behavioral patterns that override the subject's natural reactions. What Mistra did with empaths and psionic conditioning, they've managed to recreate technologically. The main difference being, this think tank asked for volunteers, and got them."

Another exterior shot of Youra was displayed, this time showing the cultural center erected on the southern tip of the island. "A platoon of forty-five Greek soldiers volunteered to have a preprogrammed set of trained reactions and instincts transmitted into their subconscious via these implants. They call it Phalanx, after the old Greek military formation. Turns out someone had the idea that if they could recreate the esprit de corps and unit cohesion of the ancient Spartans, and instill it in modern soldiers, that it'd be a good idea. Instant elite training, basically."

The screen shifted again to the same group of soldiers, this time drilling as a unit, in almost perfect synchronization and coordination. "It worked like a charm," Cooper related, "to the point where the soldiers ceased taking leave to visit their families, stopped socializing with anyone but each other. When their commander stopped reporting to his superiors, the project was terminated. And that's when the shit hit the fan. At three forty-five a.m. local time, this man," the screen blinked to show a lean-faced Greek soldier in his mid-thirties staring at the camera, "Captain Leonidas Nikostatis, led his group of Spartans to a naval facility, hijacked a crew boat, and made an assault on the cultural center at Youra. When the Hellenic Navy sent in a special ops team to try and neutralize them, the ops team was subdued and next seen," an aerial photograph appeared on the screen, zooming in to show a group of soldiers in distinctly different uniforms than the others, working in concert with the Spartans, "bearing the Phalanx implant and working with Leonidas. Nikostatis and his Spartans have full control of the island, using the cultural center as a command base and having installed two anti-aircraft guns on the shore. The Greek government has asked our help in resolving this situation without loss of life, they would prefer not to have to resort to a brute-force military solution if at all possible. Your people have experience not only with handling this kind of situation, but you're uniquely trained and familiar with the insertion location. How soon can you deploy?"

There were going to be a range of reactions to this among his X-Men, Scott knew, already running through a potential roster in his mind. I wish to hell I could leave Nathan off, but from the looks of it we're going to need both him and Jean... "There are some obvious tactical problems we're going to have to solve before we deploy anywhere, Agent Cooper. I can't land our plane if we're under fire."

"You'll be meeting up with Admiral Stilianos Milios," Cooper explained, the screen displaying another file photograph, this one of an older heavyset gentleman in a well-decorated naval uniform. "He'll be coordinating your actions with the Hellenic Navy's follow-on force. I'll leave this in your hands, Summers. We'll be in touch once you get to Greece."

With that, Cooper gave a nod offscreen and the video went to static.