[ EU ] A squad of new XCOM recruits are about to embark on their first mission .

`` Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.'' 
 
 `` Shut up, man. You're making me nervous.'' 
 
 `` *I'm* making *you* nervous?'' Rookie Smith waved his hands wildly at his friend, `` Are you fu-'' 
 
 `` I mean it, man. Shut up.'' Rookie James leaned back against the interior of the sky ranger, clutching his assault rifle to his chest. `` We'll be fine.'' 
 
 `` *Fine? *'' Howled Smith, `` Fine?! The only reason we're on this mission is because the A team got torn apart by those creepy bug thingies-'' 
 
 `` Chrysalids.'' 
 
 `` The B team got eaten by those hench sheep-'' 
 
 `` Muton.'' 
 
 `` And the C team- all two of them- were mind controlled into frag grenadeing themselves''. 
 
 ``... Well, yes.'' 
 
 `` We are *literally* the only two healthy soldiers left in XCOM.'' 
 
 ``... Yes.'' 
 
 `` I'm a programmer, man. I do n't want to die!'' 
 
 `` Shut up.'' Jones slapped his friend across the face. `` We have to make the commander proud.'' 
 
 `` The Commander?!'' Smith half groaned, half sobbed, `` You mean batshit Bradford's imaginary friend? You notice how we never see him, Jones?'' 
 
 Jones did n't say anything. 
 
 `` They did n't even give us proper armour, for Christs' sake! Just this... crap!'' 
 
 `` Hey, its heavy crap.'' Jones reached out, awkwardly patting Smith on the arm, `` Relax buddy. After all, how bad can a fishing village be?'' 

